FATE

Bear with me as I babble on my blog.... 

(that sentence has a lot of Bs...reminds me of one of my favorite movies:  Overboard...when Goldie Hawn was going "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b" and one kid is throwing grapes at her and the other one is going, "I like when she goes "b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b")  Anyway...

About a week before Justin and I were going to run off to Mexico to get married, (not really considered an "elopement" since we told everyone beforehand -- well, like a day or two beforehand...) we went to a Kenny Chesney concert.  We love going to concerts.  We love live music.  Kenny Chesney ("Kenny, buddy, ole' pal, as Justin says....ha) is one of our favorites.  He puts on a great show.  To add to the sweetness, Uncle Kracker opened for him.  And, I love me some Uncle Kracker!!!  We sat down in our seats and quickly took up with the great couple in front of us -- who were with their two grown daughters (early 20sish).  They were fun and awesome...I told Justin I loved that they were there with their kids.   They were one of the first people we told about our plans to marry.  I love families that WANT to be with each other -- and not on holidays -- but on all days.  Throughout the concert we talked, and sang, and laughed and high fived.  They didn't mind that we drank too much or sang off key -- and it quickly felt like we were all at the concert:  together.  When it was over, we swapped "facebook" names and went on our way.

Leslie and I kept up on facebook.  She was excited to see the pictures of the ceremony.  We chit chatted...small talk...and stalked each others facebook pages.  We had so much in common it was weird.  More so, I just REALLY liked her.  That's strange, people.  I dont' really LIKE many people off the bat...women, in particular.  But Leslie was different.  I have this strange magnetic pull to her.  It's almost motherly/best friendish/soul mate kind of weirdness, I can't explain it.  So, a month later when we had the reception -- Leslie and her daughter came.  It was SO good to see her, albeit slightly awkward to say "these are my Kenny Chesney friends!"  Time went on and we still talked.  We missed each other by seconds at subsequent concerts and always talk about all getting together.

You know how that goes....life.

We are all so busy -- my schedule, while I only work 3 days a week, is never consistent.  We all work full time.  She helped plan her daughter's wedding, only to turn around and start planning her other daughter's wedding (much like my parents did...wowza...busy.)  But we still connect and catch up...and I just love her to death.  I knew that when everything chilled out that we would find time for each other...a strange thing to say, but I KNOW she will be in my life.  We will celebrate happy times and tough times...I just know it!  I loved her pictures of the wedding...and smiled with her smiles of how much she loves her family.

Friday, May 25, as my shift is about to end, a colleague gets a new admit.  He needs help getting her settled (no, it's not Leslie, but the story is building, isn't it?).  A woman, I would say -- in her 40/50s was there with her mother.  I helped get her situated and then gave my reports and was off work til Sunday. 

Sunday, May 27, I get my assignment for the day.  I have 718.  I go about my day -- I learn that this woman has been told only a week or so ago that she has uterine cancer -- and now she's "ALOC"  (altered level of consciousness).  I fear that it's mets to the brain...I fucking hate cancer.  And always try to love on the family as much as the patient during these times because I remember too vividly the nurses that did NOT care about my dad or my family when we were going through it.  I heard the background.  I met her husband, her mother, her daughter.  I did my best to make my patient comfortable.  The family was told that the cancer was everywhere.  I sat in on the family meeting with the oncologist.  I put the DNR bracelet on her arm and changed her code status in the computer (the HARDEST thing I do as a nurse...because it was like time .... stood.... still.... when my dad was sick....but the minute we signed that paper...he's chart was changed, the board was changed and someone we didn't know was putting a purple DNR bracelet on the man that meant more to me than anything in the world.  Jackasses...)  I gave her a bath and tried to soothe her pain and wet her lips.  I stared into the eyes of this woman and saw confusion and pain...meddled with strength and beauty...and learned about her husband's own cancer diagnosis....her daughter's training in the medical field and about her 5 grandbaby boys.  It's crazy to be honored in a way of caring for someone that you know doesn't have long on this earth....and I take it very seriously.

So, I was administering pain meds....cause God knows how much pain this woman was enduring...and I look up....

...and there is Leslie.

"You met my sissy..."  she says....

...and I BAWL. 

See....she had told me her sister was terminal.  I told her I know how hard it is...told her I would pray...send positive thoughts, the whole deal....but now...

...I'm her nurse....

...and I KNOW her. 

And in one swift whirlwind, everything flashes back to me...and I'm worried about Leslie.  I've been there...devastated...pissed the fuck off....sad....you want to be hopeful, but you are also realistic...you can't even grasp it -- it's just too fast....and it's just too much -- you want to throw up, punch someone and grab your loved one and say how much you love them...how sorry you are...how much you wish you could change it...change that...change this...    I literally lost my composure...with 10 people in the room....and had to excuse myself.

My beautiful friend.
My beautiful patient.

So I did my best -- I'd like to say that I am the best I can be for each and every patient, but I felt this duty in my soul.  When they decided on hospice, I wept.  I specifically pulled the oncologist aside and said "are you sure there is nothing that can be done?"  I did my job.  I fulfilled the duties asked of me.  I kept her pain medication up and helped transport her to hospice...and when they left...Leslie asked me "are we doing the right thing?"  and I fumbled my words, cause I'd asked the same question with my dad.  "It doesn't seem like you have a choice...I wish there was something else I could say."  And in a swoop, they were gone.

We've sent messages since then...Leslie's daughter and my patient's daughter also commented to me.  It's NOT about me but the words were kind. 

Today, I found out that she passed away though the night.  How crazy fast and unbelievably difficult.  And I bleed for this family. I wish there was something I could do.

Instead...I'll just be there....be here....and when Leslie is ready, I'll be ready too....and if that time never comes...well, we can just have a quiet comfort that the other person just "knows"

...and perhaps... we can hit the next concert:  together.  Because I do know that happiness and joyfulness does return.  And I can't wait to be there when it does.