Honestly evaluate the way you respond to crisis situations. Are you happy with the way you react?
The Daily Prompt
Oh brother, what a topic for me to have to write on. I bet you all can’t wait to see the answer to this one, right? Anyone who knows me knows that I panic first, think later, and accept last.
I didn’t used to be like this. I remember once upon a time I used to laugh at everything and even laugh off events in my life. Then serious things happened. Divorce, illness, death. These things started to place a thumb print on my heart and soul.
I started wondering about my own life as I sat closely to others who were in the dying process. I got to the place that I wanted to be working anywhere that death was not even standing around the corner.
All I wanted to do was be happy and laugh and care free. Like I was when I was a kid and I was speeding by on my bicycle. My pig-tails flying in the wind. The clatter of my tickers on my bike spokes and the tassels on the handle bars. Wow look at them go!
What happened though didn’t make me content. It was a pretend game where no one won. I needed to be me once again. The facts are that I do love taking care of others. I do like knowing they depend on me. I like knowing they feel secure in my hands.
But with this does come a side-effect. Too much war paint on the face. Too many scars and too many memories of loved ones gone by. I tend to be over active in my mind when something odd is facing me. I tend to worry I may lose the one I love. When I lose a patient or a client, I fall hard. I give my heart 100%.
This can be a bad side-effect but it is who I am. I would rather be me and have the support of my blogger friends, than to pretend that I don’t give a hoot. I want other people to know that I care.
I will end this with sharing a vision of a patient I once had;
A female patient in her nineties. Quiet, very seldom spoke. I was filling in at a nursing home where I once worked through an agency traveling all around my home state working for short-staffed facilities.
This was a lovely lady with pure white thinning hair and big adorable blue eyes. Her skin so frail that if you touched it you could end up with torn skin. I was privileged to work with her for five days. She was dying and she knew it as well as I did. When ever I had time I would go into her room and sit with her. I would hold her hand and say nothing. Her family I didn’t know anything about. All I knew was that she was alone. In her last moments, she said in her very frail voice, “Honey, you have been my angel. You have been sent to me to keep me company until I died. Don’t ever change who you are”. With these words spoken, they were her last. I cried like a baby. Staff came in and left and commented to me about getting used to this. It happens all the time. But for me, each time is the first all over again.
I am who I am. Over reacting at times. Looking for support to you. I have good days and bad days, but one thing that will never be a crisis in my life is the lack of caring… because that is just part of who I am.
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