Why I'm blogging

When I was young I had a diary. I loved the idea of being completly honest in writing, to express yourself where outwardly I sometimes struggle. I quickly learned that even that required a hiding spot... thank you sister. But the main lingering reason I decided to blog was a patient that I once took care of, that I have never been able to get out of my mind. I think of her often, and I like to think that she is still with us, although I don't dare ask the Drs for an update on her. Her name was Sarah. She normally stays at home on hospice;  She was experiencing complications and they were determining rather or not they were going to treat it or if it was just closer to end of life. I had the pleasure of being her nurse the day that she was admitted. I went in thinking that I hoped that I could do something for her... instead she did something for me. She was around eleven or twelve years old, frail but otherwise intact young lady. Her mother was with her and they were understandably very close. When the doctors came in to talk to the mother-- the patient took out her hearing aids. She said that she didn't want to know what they were doing or how much time that she still had. She smiled, closed her eyes and tried to sleep --- all while the mother and dr's decided her course. They ran tests, changed meds and went on, all the while she was the perfect patient. Her only request--- to have no information as to what was going on. I could do that. Her mother asked me if I could stay in the room with her while she ran to the cafeteria... we normally don't sit in the rooms when parents aren't there, but in this case I felt like I should, so I did. The minute she knew her mother was a safe distance away, she broke down.... completely. It turns out, she had forgotten her notebook at home. She needed something to write in. She had written to her mother almost daily for years since she was diagnosed, and hadn't came prepared for all of this. She wanted to make sure her mother knew all of her, and while she didn't want me to tell her... if she was truely close to death this time, she wanted me to tell her mother that her notebooks were for her. They were under her bed.  WOW. I got her a notebook... well... actually a packet that the chaplains hand out that has a diary in it. (which she was thrilled about) And thankfully, I didn't have to tell her mother about her notebooks. This was something that they could treat and she would go on about her way. This patient would stick with me, and probably will for the rest of my career and life. I was shocked that she was so caring and selfless at such a young age. She was more concerned for her mother's loss than she was of her own. She was an amazing young lady and I was lucky to have met her. And while I don't want this blog to be like a memorial to me, I do want a closer glimpse inside of my mind. If something should happen to me, I would want my children to know how much I loved being their mother, and my family to know how much I loved them.