sighhhh.....when tears are shed, at least they evaporate and water the world again...

When an everyday occurrence in your line of work, includes making people cry...after a while you can't help but feel like a jerk. In my line of work, I see tears just about every other day. In my patients, in relatives....these people are grandfathers and grandmothers, kids and grandkids, neighbors and friends. I knew it was coming, we were 'taught' how to handle these situations in school. At first I used to try really hard not to shed tears myself. I always thought I had to look strong and be supportive and sympathetic. And I have to say I have done well. I have probably welled up inside a handful of times, but only ever let the rivers of Jordan flow once.


I don’t think that is anything to be proud of or sing as some sort of victory, but its one of those things you've got to do. If I cried every time I saw someone struggle (like I do on the inside cos I am a big sook!) and they saw me cry, perhaps they would think that 'I' thought their prognosis was bad and then give up. Its one of those things where you know someone is suffering, but you have to be strong, so that they remain strong and positive, and remain warriors. Studies have shown that patients who are positive and go in fighting- always tend to have better outcomes then their counterparts who remain feeling hopeless and seemingly give up- for whatever bizarre reason -when a very ill person says in their head, this is it.. I give up, more often then not, they tend to fade away pretty soon after. So we try not to give people the impression that all is lost, even when we know...that their chances are dim.


Today I watched on with 6 other people (daily gaggle of ward round people, 3 docs, nurse, physio, social worker...etc) as a 75 year old man cried. He cried because he was a victim of his own body failing him. He has pretty advanced Parkinson’s and Dementia...and slowly he loses not only the function of his body, but his sanity. At present his mind flickers in and out of sense, but you can tell by looking in his eyes that he fights it with every single muscle in his body. He can answer simple yes/no questions appropriately, but once he starts to speak in sentences his mind soon wanders and before you know it, he is making no sense at all.

The heartbreaking thing is you can tell, he knows it. Throughout his 'mumbo jumbo' talk he will say things like "my mind is all nonsense" and things like "who would want me anyways, my wife should divorce me" (wife is sole carer- no kids, and does everything to prevent him from going into a rest home). When we try to tell him that the reason he is in hospital( because he forgets) is that his health, including his Parkinson’s is getting worse, he will look up at us, then look down at his feet and cuts us off and says " I would rather not know, thank you"...

Yesterday he became unwell with tummy pain, and we discovered he had difficulty going to the toilet and his bladder was extremely distended. He needed a catheter. When I went to tell him he was floridly confused, counting 1- 20 repeatedly and making no sense at all. But the moment I mentioned catheter he stopped, looked at me and said hurriedly “I have the right to refuse! I have the right to refuse!" through all his mumbo-jumbo he still tried his hardest to keep his dignity, despite knowing he was in pain and needed intervention. Eventually he agreed, but not before breaking down and crying in front of me. I felt like a jerk, making a grown man cry. Not just a grown man but a man who had experienced this world 3 times my lifespan including WW2. I felt so insignificant next to this man, and felt like a jerk for stripping him of his last few bits of dignity.

Today we also had a 30 yr old woman cry, she had developed this weird lump around her neck mysteriously over the last few weeks. She has had numerous scans and test done and so far no one can really tell her what it is, so we are having to send her on to another specialist centre. All day she has been sat on the ward, and everytime you go to chat to her you can see her throat gets all choked up and her nose goes all red and eyes water up. She is scared she has cancer, and she may well have. I try to be supportive, though also try not to falsely re-assure her. But there is really only one phrase that will take her ache away. She wants someone to tell her, her with her 3 young kids, that this is not a cancer. And nothing I can say or do from the bedside can help. I want to cry with her, but of course...for her sake, I don’t.

The only person so far, as a patient, that I have had to remove myself from the situation (ward) to cry for, was this little old tokelauen man. He was in his early 70s, and had 8 wonderful kids, all grown with their own families. He was crippled later in life from a nasty illness but had managed, despite having a wife who also developed dementia, to keep his independence and remain in his own home. His kids had developed a fearsome roster of care. So that they all took turns everyday of the week caring and providing for their parents with only the help of a district nurse once a day. He presented to hospital, only because a skin condition which he had, had flared up and was quite painful. To cut a long story short, that presentation to hospital, unknown to him, was his pitfall. Despite initially clearing up his skin, the hospital would not let him leave.

The managers and social services and government organizations were not happy with the home situation. They found it appalling, how could this crippled man and demented woman NOT be in a rest home with hospital care?? They were shocked that his family 'had to do' all his cares and showering and feeding etc. His house was deemed "unfit" for them both , there were no ramps and the corridors were too small and who was to stop his wife from wandering out the door and into oncoming traffic?? In the end, it took months to slowly get things into place.

They used me to translate alot cos the old man spoke no English, and only Samoan and Tokelauen. The old man, who was really on top of his game, intellect wise, could not understand. Tell them our pacific people don’t go into resthomes he said, tell them I have 8 kids, goodness they are going to look after me to the day I die he said. I tried to advocate for him, but "they" would not have it. They got ramps put in and hoists in the shower and a toilet by his bed and people to go in and check on them (because he refused to go to a resthome) special wheelchairs and beds with wheels, there were alot of delays because equiptment had to come from south island and australia etc etc, and in the meantime, he probably caught a nasty hospital bug from some other sick patient, and died in the hospital, still waiting patiently- to just go home to his wife.

He had asked me every single day, every single morning, when would he go home. He told me to tell 'them' he missed his wife, and he would be fine, not to worry about him. One morning I came to work and he literally took his last few breaths. My team stood around humming and haaing and trying to make it out as if it were a good thing, he had suffered with his illness and was old and weary, the tears turned on like a tap that day, no- more like a burst pipe on the side of the road someone had accidentally put a sapelu through. I had to leave because I was so angry. I was sad and angry and horrified. Horrified because he had not go to die in his own home, with his old and demented wife whom he had loved and missed so much. That he had spent the last few miserable months of his life, in a stale and lonely hospital room, waiting for beuracacy to tell him how to live his life.

Anyways, so thats my crybaby story, as for today, ia..I have had enough of my share of tears...now I am going to have a shower, make some dinner, and try to shake off my work invisible jacket, which carries so many woes, and watch "Americas Funniest home videos" ..and try to laugh.

Christmas!

My Hubby and I had nothing planned for this christmas. We were both so depressed about not being able to spend it at home, neither of us could bother planning anything. So the friday before xmas we decide, at the very last minute, to go on a road trip! Ultimately Monday would be spent with the FamBams ( Hubbys' cousins in auckland) but we would spend a night in Rotorua on the way up and a night in Tauraga on the way down. So that was Fabulosoooo! Beats staying at home kuikui gifo-ing!!

Interesting bits re: the road trip?

1) It took us freaken 10 hours to get to Rotorua becooooossss---- we left Wellington at 11am, and hit 3 jams in 3 different little towns who were having their midday christmas parade...yup...3hours just to get outa wairarapa....bugger. So of course we arrive in Roto-vegas too late to do anything, basically eat , shower, sleep, wake up the next day, eat again, and head off for Auckland... (what a waste!)

2) We arrive in Auckland, and the room we are given ( with the fams) has a green skirt and ie faikaga waiting for us on the bed.?? hmm...whaa?? we quickly find out, the old lady of the fams had them sewn for us in the last few hours when she heard we were coming. The family were peforming an item at the church xmas service and we had been made honorary members!!hoh! thus poi and I's outfits...... (like OMG!!)

3) So.....within an hour I find myself on a stage at a church I have never been to, shoved to the front of the choir coz I am short (damned them genes! :) ) singing songs I have never heard of before, trying to act as if it were the 100th time I had done it!LOL! ( all that was going through my head at the time was my year 6 singing teacher's voice (ms solomona) going "fa'amaga le guku as if o gae ofi ai le fuamoa when you are singing!!"..so awkwardly found myself doing just that !LOL!)

4) The service was 3.5hours..yes, and I was there for the entire thing!!! But as much as it dragged on far too long, it was entertaining. My favourite performance was this one family, See all the performances were just the different families in the church doing a few christmas carols...and from the way the night was going, it was all about whos family had more people on the stage and the loudest choir with the most number of instruments being played at any one time!.

So this one family gets up, and there is only a mere hand ful of people ( compared to everyone else who had no less then 20 persons up there) the old man comes to the front, and starts a little speech which goes ( in samoan of course) Firstly, I would like to apologise that all you see up here are women, and me. ( looking at his feet and shaking his head) For the last 10 years I have been trying to get my sons to come to church, but they insist they only need to send their wives..and their sins will be forgiven ( nodding his head still) then I also apologise that their are still others missing. Only this morning I have been informed that my youngest daughter, has a boyfriend, and they have eloped to Australia to be married ( shaking his head still ) of course no one was invited.

Then he goes on about not having time to practice the songs he wants and not having a pianist. They start singing, and only a quater into the song -half of them sorta die off, as if they dont know the words and the old man looks like his face is going to fall...and then some people in the back start cheering them on, and singing along with them, and before you know it, the whole church is humming along with them, the old man and his choirs' faces all had smiles (mines tears!!LOL) and it was just the most beautiful thing ever. I think what made it great was the fact that it was acapella, no instruments, no fancy radio in the background, just pure singing...and it was lovely.!

anyways that was that. The rest of christmas was what you'd expect...eating heaps of BBQ and kalo, drinking, catching up with people I havent seen in ages, calling my fams overseas to wishem a merry christmas and ask what they're all having for lunch!! Ok guys, hope you all had a festive one too !! ciao later and look foward to reading all your xmas blogs!

pics of trip home!

more at www.flickr.com/photos/samoanola/

blues

Why I have the blues

-I got on a plane yesterday and returned from a 3 week holiday in Samoa

-My husband gets to spend an extra week in sa, whilst i have to come back to work!

-I left welly on a cold and windy day 3 weeks ago, and arrived back on another cold and rainy day!

-I am addicted to sun, and wellington aint got any- losing the tan already!

- I arrived at work today, 10mins late because 1) I was travelling yesterday -thus, even though I was sat on my butt most of the day, I was shattered at the end of it. Then this morning I woke up, got in my car and found no gas so had to get gas, then drove for 10mins and realised I forgot my stethescope so had to go back and get it, and got to work, to face a very grumpy person (worked before me) who couldnt be bothered handing me over anything ( ie who is sick from last shift etc) and gave me the worst bitch face a guy could give ( yes it was a guy) before storming out of the place!! talk about PMS!!! ..Great way to start the day, first day back infact after a luxurious holiday!!

-I miss the beach
-I miss vailima
-I miss the close proximity of friends ( ie 1 min drive away)
-I miss having heaps of nosey family around, wanting to know my every move, wanting to book me for breakfast,lunch,dinner,movie, going out, going to the beach, going to a party, hanging out or just chatting in my mums patio.

- I miss the fact that a roadtrip to the store means you could run into at least 4 people you know, and everywhere you turn ie, read a newspaper/watch telly/ listen to the radio..there is someone you went to school with/knew your brother/is your husbands cousin/ met out one night or you just know through word of mouth- NZ is so impersonal, and although some may see the advantage of this at times, i dont miss it like i miss the personal touch of life at home...

thats why i have the blues