You can call us crazy, if you want. It’s okay. You can shake your heads with that knowing smile at the chaos that’s certain to become our lives. We don’t mind. You can even think it’s way too soon after losing our sweet Cookie just a week before. That’s fine. We just disagree.
Today’s groan is not so much about the pain, as the weariness. That bizarre resistance I feel when I get up some mornings – where every movement I make carries a heaviness, as if I’m walking through chest-deep water.
Surprisingly, every teary-eyed step I took down the ramp that day left me feeling just a little more free. By the time I made it to the elevator at the bottom, my tears were actually dry. Miraculously gone. As was the pressure.
I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I’d like to say that the events of the last few months have just left me speechless, but those who know me best will know right away that this is a lie. Debi is never without words. Truly.
Don’t you hate how it’s the most difficult days that actually teach us the most? The ones that seem to engulf you in a neverending downward spiral that both hits you rapid fire, but moves in maddeningly slow motion all at the same time?
What is normal, anyways? Well, whatever you do … don’t ask a nurse because their view has been forever skewed. We truly have no idea anymore. And we have to not only learn to live with it, we also have to press on in spite of it.
I’ve never been comfortable with nurses being called heroes. Yes, we’ll fight for you – even though we don’t know you. Yes, we expose ourselves to whatever you happen to bring our way – whether physical or emotional. It’s all pretty contagious, actually. And yes, as we’ve all seen plastered all over the news and internet lately … sometimes we work under some pretty grueling circumstances.