Sunday, August 22, 2010

romanced

What is the exact definition of romance?

I don't know. And my current internet connection won't let me access a dictionary to find out. But when it comes to healthcare and my role in it, that's the only word that I can seem to fit. I am romanced by my job.

Cheesy - and kinda scary - I know.

Really? I ask myself. I mean, really. The whiny people, the close encounters with body fluids, the ceaseless beeping of monitors and call bells, the heirarchy and subsequent gossip? I like this?

Yep. I do.

I love the chance to help people. I love being part of something that's bigger than me. I love learning about how the human body works. I love getting a difficult IV. I love that, even on days when I don't want to be at work or deal with anyone, I can still say that I love my job.

There are nearly unlimited opportunities in healthcare. Most of them have initials: RN, NP, MD...hospitals are full of more acronyms than a military base.

And then there's the history. You can look back at the history of humanity and see evidence of medicine in practically every era. Greeks and Romans, medieval times, eastern medicine...the list continues and advances through time. Everything we know today is thanks to the efforts and errors of previous generations.

Society isn't unfamiliar with my romance. There is plenty of entertainment out there based on healthcare drama. I think the close association with life and death and the drama inherent to them draws people in. It's fascinating in ways unlike anything else.

Monday, August 02, 2010

There is no try.

I think the thing that’s been eating at me so much recently is this question:

If we spend all of our time just “keeping up appearances” aren’t we simply living shadows?

For the past few years I’ve tried to consistently be the same person, no matter the circumstance. As it turns out, I have such a wide variety of interests and broad spectrum of friends, that it seems I cannot be me without offending someone. So I’ve become this half version of me that people cannot fully embrace because I can’t fully be present.

Don’t say what you think because it may be offensive. Don’t do what you want because you’re obligated to be somewhere else. There are bills to pay and people to impress.

Why?

Am I so terrified that my opinion will leave me friendless and alone?

Even when I know I’m right?

How arrogant is that?

And twisted. I mean, seriously, it goes back to that whole “I want him to like me” mentality. If he doesn’t like me for who I truly am, then what sort of relationship do we have? And let’s be honest. That hasn’t worked yet for this still very single nearly 26 year old white American female.

Twenty six. It’s my golden year. Why do I feel like I’m asking the same damn questions I had seven years ago? In some ways it feels like I was closer to knowing who I was then than I do now – at least there wasn’t as much artifice in between me and the person people see.

Even more maddening, I tell other people this constantly. “You cannot control how people react to you.” But I try. Oh, do I ever try. I observe, evaluate, consider and anticipate and keep my mouth shut because of it.

Sometimes it’s because I see things as bigger than they really are. Sometimes it’s because I just don’t have the energy to fully engage the situation. And sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being rejected along with the Jesus I supposedly love.

That’s what this really comes down to, isn’t it? Faith. The questions, the answers, the lack of answers, the ignoring the answers, the questions the answers raise…and the nagging suspicion that, despite all I’ve done and tried to do, I still don’t get it.

I still can’t stick with a decision long enough to see it through to completion. Still can’t express genuine affection without feeling as though I’m overstepping some invisible line.

Still look at myself first instead of keeping my focus directed on the only One who can fix any of it.

I ask the questions, beg for answers and try so hard to make it all work out. Only to fall flat on my face with lack of self discipline.

Do I know how to fix it? No. But I am going to stop half trying and see if that makes a difference.