Illumination

Illumination
Or how I gave myself permission to live

Early in my career I understood the relevance of patient teaching but could never have understood the importance what they may teach me. As I contemplated my professional life, they often taught me more than I ever have learned in school. Formal education was the transportation that allowed me to travel the path that I chose. However, patients, family members, or even friends shaped the kind of person that I am today. They continue to sculpt me just as an artist works with clay.
A long time ago, someone told me that you never know where your life may lead you. As a young person, if that person is a speaker at a dinner, you really do not listen. If that person is a clergy, the message may fall on deaf ears. This can be true of almost anyone who advises you. Hopefully, when you mature, these words may ring true in your ears. That is exactly what happened to me.
As a high school girl, I was carefree just as we all were in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s. Those years were filled with homework, rules, parents, and dating. Not much has changed for today’s youth. Imagine my surprises over the years when fellow high school classmates became my patients. The role was usually uncomfortable, but many of the illnesses were not life threatening. All of this changed for me last year.
The shift began just like any other. I received report from the day shift nurse and hurried out to organize myself to the chaotic first three hours of middle shift. My first priority that day was to change an IV bag that I knew must be nearly empty. As I walked into the room, I was stopped dead in my tracks. My patient was an old friend from school. Not only did I know her but also I knew her prognosis. I had been told that she did not know the outcome of the surgery. Her surgery for a brain tumor was believed to be a glioma, a particularly fast growing and always-fatal malignancy. I knew that she would not be alive for our next class reunion in three years. My mind was racing. What could I possibly say? Where to start a conversation? Would she notice the shock on my face? I hoped not. She said hello first. Thanking God for her initiative, I said hello back. We spoke briefly while I hung her IV, and I told her that I would be in later to speak with her. I left the room briskly trusting she could not see the horror on my face.
I went into the staff lounge and began crying. This cannot be happening, I thought. No one deserves this, and least of all her. She never hurt a fly. She is such a good person. I don’t know if I can care for her. Just as I was feeling sorry for myself and my inability to deal with reality, truth came down and hit me with a big hammer. Who am I to complain? My job now was to provide her with the very best that I had to offer. She deserved that and more. Spiritual growth happened for me that evening.
Fortunately, my evening was not too hectic. I was able to carve a good block of time to spend with her. I know she appreciated my time. We caught up with the years that had passed, exchanged pictures and stories, and remembered those good old days. She told me of her hobbies and showed me some needlework that she was doing for a future grandchild. I told her that I write poetry, and she asked me to write one for her. I promised her one the next day.
That night, as I sat in front of the computer, I wondered what to write. The events of the evening unfolded in my mind. Boy, was I ever self-involved. My first impulse was to run and feel sorry for myself. I began to review my own life. What would I do to make the most of my time on earth if given her prognosis? How could my poem make her understand everything that she meant to me? As those thoughts played out in my head, suddenly the following verses easily appeared. I hope that you enjoy my efforts as much as she did.

Illumination

You suffer for me
Friend from my past
So I may dare
To live at last.

Challenging myself
In spite of my past
Savoring each moment
As though it’s the last

The days of our youth
Are come and gone
With memories of them
Locked away in our hearts.

We’re told to live
One day at a time
Then I see you
Knowing the truth.

That suffering should be
A reason to live
Or give us permission
To capture our dreams.

Is to minimize our lives
To the point of irrelevance
And tell us our fears
Were all invalid.

No words can tell you
The grief that I share
With your spirit and mind
And what you must bear.


I pray for your soul
As I pray for my own
So we may find peace
With strength to go on.

I take from you
A lesson to last
You give without knowing
My friend from the past.

So I may gain wisdom
From this suffering of yours
Move on with life
And not regret failures.

These are the lessons
That help us improve
Our spiritual selves
That only God knows.