Apathetic

ap·a·thet·ic [ap-uh-thet-ik]
1. having or showing little or no emotion: apathetic behavior.
2. not interested or concerned; indifferent or unresponsive: an apathetic audience.

Yep, that about sums it up.

Crying

There is so much going on in my life right now. I find I am spending a lot of time crying... but when I am at work, I keep it together. When I am at work my mind and my focus is on my patients. I can put my bull shit aside for 12 hours to do something that really matters. It is my escape from my own personal pity party.

Tonight, however, I cried.

There is a patient on our floor who is here for alcohol detox. He has been 2 weeks without a drink, so he is in the clear medically. Any chance of withdrawl symptoms (which he had severely) are over. This issue now is, he has been pickling his emotions for the past 21 years... now he has to cope.

I work at a VA hospital, so, I work with veterans. There isn't a greater patient population out there in my opinion. I love the patients I care for, they have unique characteristics and special needs. This fella tonight is dealing with PTSD issues that he has been drinking away for 21 years. He was under attack, hiding under his bed, screaming, yelling, fighting. He broke through several different kinds of restraints. Thought he was in the jungle. Saw the helicopters, watched his buddies walk through trip wires. He described this clearly, so clearly that I could almost see it myself. Now, he was not my patient, but I try to help out when I can.

We got him back to bed, call the house doctor and tried to calm him down. I finally ended up sitting at his bedside, holding his hand, repeating over and over again "You are in the hospital, you are safe. I am a nurse and I will not allow anything bad to happen to you. Let us help you." He would calm down, close his eyes for 2 minutes, then he would startle in panic and it would begin all over again. I did this for over 2 hours while the doctors debated on the best course of action and the meds finally kicked in.

I sat in this dark, quiet room with a man I had never met before holding his hand and reassuring him he was safe... and I cried. I cried for the pain he was feeling that we could not relieve. If someone is in physical pain, I can give them a multitude of drugs to make it go away. There was nothing I could do to help this man's pain but hold his hand. I felt helpless, impotent.

He is sleeping now, I am glad. Sleep at least brings a slight reprieve from his demons. I love these patients. I love them because they remind me that I am human, that my petty issues are issues, but not the end of the world. Maybe I'm all cried out for today. Maybe I can smile today instead of cry. Maybe my perspective has been changed.