a few weeks ago I was really struggling, really struggling.
I had a day at work where I was called to HR for a good reprimanding. It's not uncommon for me to get called into the office for speaking my mind. I am a charge nurse...and if you aren't familiar it is a low paid leader. A leader of the people(nurses etc) who save your life , I make the schedule and do everything no one higher up wants to do...with no extra pay. If you are a nurse long enough in an area it is inevitable that you will be moved into a charge position. Something that I have avoided up until late. I am a leader by nature, but I am not a role model. I can educate people and preceptor, but I am not an ass kisser and never will be. I am unable to follow rules consistently, especially if I think they are asinine. I am able to follow policy, but not made up rules by people who have no idea what the hell is going on in the real world. And if you do not understand that last statement, then really think about some of the shit they come up with at work that is not policy....ie: only 1 ream of paper at the desk, no drinks etc at the computer, no listening to headphones ( even if you work independently on a computer in the basement). I just can't buy in. Policy yes, rules no.
Besides this, I had been called to the office, once again, for a snarky attitude and standing up to a new Doctor who came into our operating room and wanted to change the way we do things for his benefit and I called him out on it. But honestly, this is not the issue. I knew I would get called in. Nurse vs Doctor....never going to win unless it is a critical situation and 98% the nurse has better skill than the education of the Dr. But this wasn't the case that day. I said what I said and stood by it, not backing down and 3 days later got a call to the pretend HR department. **** HR: the lady who does payroll is also HR, she hates everyone and you cannot go to her for anything because she is part of everything. It is so biased that I'm not even sure how they can even legally call it HR.
I took my lashes and left. grumbling under my breath , wondering why I stay, why I put up with a place that does not appreciate my work ethic, skill, humor, and even snark. But the big part came as I drove home.
I had no one to call. My rock, Sissy, is gone. She was the one I spoke to every single day on my 45 minute drive home. A check in call, a "hey, whatcha doin?" call. But, she is gone. then I realized I have no one, Not a single person I would call to tell my shit to. Not my friends , not my other half, no one. She was my burden carrier.
As I thought about this.....
my heart sank dark. I have always been a person to have many friends. And I do. So many, but not a single person I would tell my heart ache to. Zero. I drove home weeping and snortling with self pity. I have felt this before but this came over me like a heavy weighted blanket.
Why am I here?
Why do I go to a job that hates me?
why do I continue to move forward? what. ?? to make some money, pay bills and encourage others to be happy? all while I want to die?
I was so heavy with burden I went home and thought that my life , as valuable as I know it is, because it is LIFE.....life , at that moment, carried no value to me at all.
I picked up the phone and put it down, I started to text a few people, but erased it . I cried, I thought about life in the future with out my sis. without a person to talk to, without that friend , or really any friend who knows everything about me . I thought about death.
i thought about death
How I know I need help with the burdens I carry. It has become too heavy for me.
How I wanted someone right then to not say a word but encase me in their arms and say, "You are strong, I am here" yes
that is what i need, needed safety
I got through it. I sat and thought about the people I love and my kids. It was strong enough this time to keep me safe.
I didn't have a plan, but I did have a vision of what it would be like to not carry the pain.
Arriving on Friday afternoon was like walking into the past. Landing in my home town, in which I escaped from so many years ago, held a feeling I didn't realize I had in me.
Home....Old home....history home
I drove the Miracle Strip to my destination
not really worrying about time or distance, and you know what ?
I arrived...
no stress.
That was the last part of my
"stress"
Well, honestly it wasn't stress it was something I am unable to describe....
but it was something.
I'm just going to type what I feel.
Not sugar coat anything for anyone
because, honestly, this is for my heart and a way to sort out feelings
We sat and reminisced , and really did whatever she felt well enough to do.
Would it have been easier if she was literally on her last day? maybe for me.
but I was thankful for this time.
We ate...
and I welcomed that.
She had a rough night....and that made my heart break.
As we talked we discussed life and death and the untimely way it shows up.
She told me she wasn't scared to die anymore.
She had a dream
She dreamt (or not) that she was above her body, she said,
" I was looking down on my body and I wasn't scared. Not at all. I was fascinated....my body was like transparent and I could see every vein in my body...it was glowing the most beautiful blue. Myssi, I wasn't scared. But what did amaze me was that I could feel warmth and comfort. I realized we have one life and we need to love and be the best we can. My body looked so amazing under me...
then as I was looking around, there was a warmth and I swooped back down into my body in the bed.
Thats when it was weird because I wasn't sure if I was actually dead or alive. I knew I needed some water, so I slowly got up and walked to the bathroom to get a sip. I still felt weird so I still wasn't sure what was real or not. the retrieval of water went well in the bathroom so I thought , what the hell, I'm hungry so Im heading to the kitchen for watermelon. By my 5th bite of watermelon I knew I was alive....but what I saw and felt was very real."
"but I'm not scared"
Well, I'm scared.
The reality that we are no longer young and invincible.
We are older and we may not have long to live.
Friends are passing and there is really nothing we can do.
I text her every day.
I look to see if she has turned on her phone.
The past 3 days she turns on her phone and sends this :
I'm guessing this may be the last bit of conversation I have with her.
I'm going to talk about things people don't want me to talk about
I want to die
often
I know it's not ok...I know we aren't supposed to talk about it
it's for teens ....it's for crazy people ...it's for psychos
but....
I'm just a mom, struggling....53.
struggling
I ache with pain from what my son has experienced and what I had to see that day....and the aftermath it has brought. being a nurse, I have seen so much....but this hurt me...his love, there on the floor...him outside in his underwear with no support ....nothing....her on the floor dead......
it hurt me
I couldn't fix it
I couldn't help myself by leaving and going to NY to help with Covid,
I divorced...
I hopefully saved him, but not me
I still couldn't feel like I did anything. I really did nothing....
NY
I was just there...I did what I could....I did my job....but my heart still hurts
I couldn't fix it....
my daughter hurts....
I can't help her
I can't fix it
I can't fix myself
I go to work everyday and help fix others ..........
It's my job
but here I am,
every night with no sleep
with thoughts of death....
with thoughts my children may kill their selves because of my poor parenting
I have been back a couple of days and have been working on my FEMA tests to become a reservist...
because maybe that is why this all happened...
my mind keeps wandering to my last few days.
Demobilization was just that.
I had 24 hours to say good-bye, clean my room, and get a flight.
I did all three....
alone and with much thought.
My room was left just as I had entered it except for a box of chocolates, 20$ bill, and a thank you note to the cleaning staff that continued to work the "dirty floor" at the Sheraton for us.
it was the least I could do.
I shut the door at 450 am, just like I had been doing for the last 22 days but this time I was heading home.
My stomach rolling with anxiety, and maybe some fear of moving forward, when I really wanted to stay, or at the least move sideways.
{This may be a long post}
The last day at Jacobi Hospital was, as I said, bittersweet. I spent the day saying goodbye to nurses, residents, and doctors, who came around after hearing "Colorado" was leaving today. I teared up every time someone said, thank you....you brought a light that was desperately needed in this area.
I fought for my last 2 patients:
One, to discharge home so that I knew she was safe and also so that I could wheel her out, as I promised I would when she was on 80L of oxygen and I was questioning the sustainability of her life.
and the second: to stay alive ....just stay alive.
All the patients who were directly under my care lived, except for 2, that I am aware of. They were my ICU patients. They were only in my care for a couple of days.
The other ones,
even the one who kept asking if he was going to die....made it out.
Wait, except for Teresa....she is still in.
Mamacita....
she spoke no English and for 20 days we used hand signals and occasional yelling to communicate.
From ventilator to Hiflo oxygen to hopefully home...
here was my day
The two women shared a room, no private rooms in covid central. One a younger social worker who fought like hell everyday to get better, and my job was to keep telling her she was getting out alive.
the other a much older hispanic woman who was slowly giving up on life and everyday I begged her to breathe...to eat the horrible hospital food, and to to move her feet so that she didn't get blood clots and die of that.... opposed to Covid.
For 20 days straight, minus the one day I got floated to another area, I walked into the room and picked up and removed all the garbage ( housekeeping was swamped and short staffed), I emptied and cleaned all bedside commodes, wiped every surface with bleach wipes, made sure Jackie and Teresa got their teeth cleaned, gowns changed, and bed linens changed (even if it meant I had to go to different areas to find what I needed).
every morning...
and every evening before I left...
I did it again.
They came to know I was fighting for them...I wanted the area clean so that they could get well.
If they were able to get to the bedside commode it was required by me...
No one gets to sit in diapers,
they must move to keep the blood flowing and to facilitate breathing.
I "suggested" they prone, or Tummy Time as we called it, and actually made a time frame for when they should do it so that we could check to off our to "do list."
Proning is one of the most effective ways to open the lungs during Covid. It is a proven help.
I wrote my name, date, goals and Dr names on the white boards so that they knew what was going on.
And when I knew what type of food they liked, or would at least try to eat, I would trade other nurses one thing for another and even bring stuff from the hotel or my personal lunch so I knew that they at least got something in their bellies.
Jackie, the younger of the 2 was making wonderful progress, she became the voice for Teresa...updating me every morning to what the night had held and what bullshit might have happened, or setbacks and began to translate for Teresa through the curtain divider.
this became our needed norm.
Teresa at one point took a turn for the worse and oxygen needs went up quickly. I begged her to breathe, and to leave the mask on which she would pull off in her hypoxic state. I sat next to the bed and held the mask to her face and told her she needed to get better...
for her kids and grand kids...
I thought....
she is going to die today...
fuck
I finally pulled open the curtain which separated them and said, "Jackie help me talk to her, please"
and they saw each other for the first time...
I asked Jackie , " please tell her...tell her she needs to breathe, she needs to be on her tummy when I ask and she needs to live...not to give up"
Jackie barked at her in Spanish and something changed....
to me it looked as if being able to see each other they became fighters on the same team.
They were in the battle together.
It took a couple of days but Teresa began to get better.
I was able to get Jackie's Hi Flo machine when she no longer needed it...
I slid it over, got everything together, and set the settings as I had watched the therapists do for the past 2 weeks...then grabbed a respiratory therapist to double check the settings and I put it on Teresa.
This meant no full face mask....she was able to drink water and take a bite of food without her oxygen level dropping to 70%
She could talk on the phone....she could sleep.
I felt like a secret agent hero getting that machine to her without anyone's help.
There were so many doctors rounding I'm sure they just thought one of the other doctors ordered it. I just charted it and kept it maintained and no one asked where it came from .
The day I left,
the doctors were slow to get everything in place for Jackie to discharge to home. She needed an oxygen tank and for some reason they could not get the paper work together.
I called every dr I had come in contact with...
I begged them to send her home...she only needed 1L of oxygen for when she got home and needed to ambulate.
"There are no tanks."
I quietly suggested that she call the insurance and tell them she would purchase her own tank...go around the doctor orders and take care of it herself.
She did...
it worked...
they still wouldn't sign discharge orders so she left Against Medical Advice and I wheeled her out to her car and her husband she had not seen in more than a month.
When she got home she texted me pictures of her new Oxygen tank, an oximeter, and correspondence with her insurance that it would all be taken care of.
Yes! Home
(she changed my life)
Before she had left, Teresa realized she was going to be alone and begged for me to get her home too...before Mother's Day
She cried and cried and Jackie kept telling me she wants to go home for Mothers Day...it is a huge deal.
she can't...she is not ready.
I cried too...
I cried because it was my last day and I didn't get her out....
I went to my google app and translated to Spanish:
You will get better
You will see your family
You are strong
and You are my heart
so please, keep breathing...
today is my last day but you are going to be ok
I can promise you that
I asked Jackie to help me get her granddaughters phone number, which she did and I was able to find her on Face Book, contact her, and tell her who I was and that her Abuela needed them...and we would like to face time.
she said give me 5 minutes and call me back.
I took the letter I wrote to Teresa ...she read it, cried, grabbed me and hugged me so tight( which we are Not supposed to do) folded the letter up kissed it and put it where her bra would be if she was wearing something other than a hospital gown.
Then I showed her my phone
and hit the dial button.
Up popped her family...and the screaming and crying began.
She had not seen them in over 37 days
they cried and cried and we said hello and laughed and I gave her the phone with a battery charger from Nurse Chuck and told her to take her time...
2 hours later...she handed me the phone and kissed my hands.
before I left that evening,
Nurse Chuck and Nurse Ivey came in the quiet room where Teresa was, now without a roommate, and soon to be without her nurse...
and we promised she would get to FaceTime again on Mother's Day
That was Wednesday
Sunday afternoon I received texts from Ivey and Chuck that the FaceTime would start at 11 rain or shine.
people are good
I sent her a video to Ivey's phone saying
Feliz dia de la Madre
Mi Amore
Ivey said Teresa watched it about 10 times and kissed my face on her phone, held it to her heart and cried.
I'm going to miss her
I do miss her
and I actually ask about her every morning....
I send a text " what's the oxygen"
and they just answer with a number and a thumbs up.
When I got home the first random message I got was from a lady stating that they heard the nurses were killing patients....letting them die. That they weren't treating them with medication,
that no one gave a shit....
that the old and weary got left to die so that someone else could get the equipment....
that people were working above their knowledge base which in turn was for sure doing damage.
I cried when I got that text...
I cried because yes....everyone was working above their knowledge base...there is no treatment for Covid except ventilator, vitamin C, Zinc. proning, and luck...We did not do compressions when someone coded....because it spreads the virus everywhere and it wasn't safe...but that didn't mean we weren't trying. We all did are best and many are still there, still cleaning up and continuing to finish their job in NYC.
all I can say is, wear your mask...
take your vitamins,
and know that there will always be a nurse to care for you
it is 3 months....3 months since it happened.
3 months since the 645 am phone call...
"your son is alive, but....."
no one asks me how I am and honestly , I am just me
my heart hurts today.
I have cried
I have tried to text people and I have tried to reach out.
2 people, one being my son, have responded....and he should never have to bare his mother's pain
I must keep quiet
I must be strong.
what I saw was what I saw...
and yes I was the parent notified that day,
only because my child was alive.
I saw her, I identified, I watched and cradled my son in the back seat of a squad car....vomiting and cold.
I shielded his view as they brought her out...
I blocked them from staring when the people on the street were curious...
I pleaded for them to retrieve the phone with all the numbers so that I could call her mom....
They said it is on the table...cannot move it now.
crime scene
They will call....they promised.
3 months later....
I still have the burden not calling.....
the pain of what I saw, yet grateful her mother did NOT have to see
even knowing she wishes she had been there....
I understand.
I drove home today....
3 months post....
contemplating death....
being done with the pain I carry, which should not be
It is my own ....
it would not help....
I know this.
my heart hurts for all of them....
I cannot fix it...
but yet for some reason....
I carry it
I still hear the cries,
I still see what I saw
I still carry guilt
wtf
I just want this to end...
for the sun to shine
to be done
no one asks how I feel or did feel.
what I saw....
am I ok
yes.
sure
I'm ok
we don't talk about it
we stay strong
mother
strong
He called and said,
"Mom, It's been 82 days and it has not gotten any easier, everyday still hurts like the first day"
it makes me cry....and I hate to cry. I cry for her, for you, for Gretchen and Charlie and for everyone who has to deal with this type of death.
Elliot never intended for any of this and would hate for us all to be so sad....I know this in my heart and you do too....but here we are, with nothing to grasp except sadness of this entire situation. We now have a hole where she was to be and grow and experience life with you, Ilin....that was cut too short....and as your mother, this has to be one of the most heart wrenching things to watch unfold. I can in no way take away your pain and that hurts. I had no preparation for this and I'm not sure you really were prepared either, even being in the situation. Gretchen Ford my heart breaks for you, you know that...and nothing you could have done or said would have prepared Ilin or me for this either.
Here is something I would like to add as not only a mom, but as a person who lived a very similar life to Elliot....
1.) stop glamorizing drugs and the culture.... if you know someone who is thinking about trying these drugs, stop them...be stronger than the drug because if you never do the drug, you won't die from it....and I'm being serious. When I talked to Ilin as a young teen, I always said, " I know you are going to do things and try things, that is a known rite of passage, but I want you to know....never do heroin or meth....these are 2 drugs which you will never win with." I reiterated this many times in Ilin's growing years and I feel that maybe it helped a bit to be honest. (A hard line sometimes has to be drawn)
2. If you have younger siblings or friends...keep them from doing these drugs.
They look up to you....
and you may think you don't have an influence, but you do.
The first time I heard to never do heroin, or ever even try it, was from my brother Jack....and I listened.
He looked me in the eye, and said'
"I've done a lot of stuff, but I will never shoot heroin, that shit will kill you, regardless of how good the high might be. Never do heroin, don't even try it. Walk away if anyone tries to get you to do it or tries to make it sound good. It's bad, and it kills you"
3. If you know someone who is struggling, understand that this is not a game, and not a choice
at a certain point, no one can help them except them selves, they have to try to get help on their own and it takes strength and the ability for failure. Often the type of people who get addicted to these drugs are not great at failure, so it is a vicious circle.....and they won't succeed without 100% support, regardless of the situation.
So if you know someone who is trying to get straight, don't push them in the wrong direction.
Please.
4.losing anyone to an overdose is a horrible thing, but also, understanding that, most likely, dying was not their intent....
As Many of my good friends from my younger years can attest to.... with these drugs, there is no in-between. there is no...".I'll just do it today and then I'll be good for a a week....there is no, I'm pretty clean...." 5.The truth, the very hard shitty truth that no one speaks about because it sounds rough ( But sometimes we need some real life truth) either you are 100% clean and sober or you will eventually lose to the drug. This is a truth. so think about that, think about the pain to your friends and family that this may cause. Stop thinking it won't happen to you ....because...... we , this group of Elliots friends, family and lover, thought it would never happen to us.....
I love you all and I want to see all our kids make it to their destination in life and fulfill their dreams, so start talking to your kids and friends and speak up!
Jesus criminy....
if you, as a parent, think this is not in your kid's life...think again.
Ask them if they know anyone who does a little Molly, or smokes alittle heroin in their weed?.
If you are ok with them vaping?....then you have a problem going on...
.ask them. you might be surprised...but you shouldn't be.
This little soul loved ice cream and sushi...
She danced and loved hip hop...
She didn't smoke cigarettes
then...
it became a thing, everyone was doing it.
then she met a person who said,
"You are beautiful, do this with me"
and it was about as simple as that...
One try...the wrong person, a weak hurt teen...
and then
we couldn't fix it.
