The Now

I am finding it hard to fabricate my to do list today.  I know there are a ton of things to do...I've been thinking about them all week.  However, after being extremely task oriented at work the past few days I am finding it hard to get motivated when I don't have to worry about someone's ABC's (airway, breathing and circulation).  

I am also procrastinating.  The backyard needs raking and unfortunately a temperature of 34 degrees fahrenheit is no motivation for me to get outside.  I realize that in March I will be extremely grateful for this type of weather, but right now...no thank you.  I even cheated this morning and turned up the thermostat.  Don't tell Nick.  The dog on the other hand refuses to come inside.  She absolutely loves this weather.  If only there was a way to attach a rake to her as she forages the yard, then I'd have it made.

Alas, here I am, sitting in front of my computer ready to blog.    

I don't think there is any other profession that can remind a person so consistently about the fragility and unknowns of life than that of the healthcare profession.  In the ICU where I am employed we work primarily with individuals who have suffered from various types of strokes and brain aneurysm ruptures.  These events occur with very little warning and can create significant life changes for all those involved.  I used to think, mistakenly, that these events were reserved for the elderly.  Unfortunately, I have seen some very young people affected.  In fact, the majority of our patient population is in their mid-40s to 60s.

I often struggle with the stark reality of how quickly a caretaker becomes the cared for.  In fact, this week I was assigned to a man who had suffered a stroke that resulted in massive brain swelling.  In order to control the swelling, he underwent emergency surgery and was placed in a medically induced coma.  His prognosis is unknown until the swelling retreats and we are able to see what the underlying damage is.  Yesterday, I listened to his wife as she described to me her battle with MS.  She had always known that someday she would need to be cared for, but never imagined that her husband would find himself in a position that would threaten his ability to do so.

There are obviously many complexities to this job, but one of the hardest is the lack of predictability.  Sometimes patients arrive in the worst shape possible, and they end up eventually returning to their previous lives.  Others come in, face numerous complications and are never able to reach a full recovery.  I often find myself reminding patients and family members that we need to work with the challenges we have right now and then our next steps will depend on their response to the current crisis.

I think one of the greatest lessons I am learning in the ICU is that the only predictable thing about life is that it is unpredictable.  My mom was constantly reminding me as a child to "never say never."  She used to tell me that God finds opportunity in that statement and makes the unthinkable possible.  As a child you grow up thinking and dreaming about what your life will be like when you are older.  It may change from time to time but rarely do you imagine several dreams for yourself simultaneously.  Suddenly, as an adult you begin to realize that life comes with a plethora of options.  You start to see that the journey isn't as concrete as you once thought.

As I have mentioned multiple times in these blogs the year ahead is anything but concrete for Nick and I.    I have a sneaking suspicion that next year I will look back and think about all the things that happened that I never expected to happen.  I am also certain that the addition of another person to our family will only increase the possibilities.

I can, however, take comfort in knowing that a few constants will remain intact.  I take solace in knowing that the love and support of my family has been unwavering for 27 years now, and I don't anticipate that changing.  I know that despite challenges Nick and I have continued to grow as a couple.  We have navigated many changes over the past nine years of our relationship, both individually and together, and eventually end up stronger.  Finally, I know that through the various growth opportunities of life I have always been filled with a sense of calm and peace in knowing that things will work out.  After all, I believe it has been said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.