The Indomitable Spirit

WARNING: The following involves the loss of a child and could trigger some people.

So, where shall we begin? Or more correctly, where shall I begin? Let’s see, how about there’s love in living, life sucks, or rose-colored glasses?

For those that don’t know, I was an LPN. Hospice and homecare were my specialties.

One of my patients was actually a hospice patient as well. The difference was that this was a toddler. I don’t recall his illness. I’d been out a few times and the family had bonded with me, and I with them. This is a danger for the nurse, at least for me when it came to caring for children.

It had only been a few visits when I pulled up and there were police and ambulances everywhere. I went into the home where the family greeted me with tears and hugs. I went in to see the child. I introduced myself to the paramedics (who, by the way, did not perform any life-saving action due to the do not resuscitate order in place).

The toddler had been pronounced as I arrived. I made the necessary phone calls to the agency, RN, physician, and lastly, to the mortuary. I sat with the family to talk to them, to try to ease their pain. It must be said, though, that there is nothing that can be said to ease that kind of pain. So, I let them talk and cry. They told me that the child went peacefully. This was actually the family’s second loss. This toddler had a twin that was an infant when he left this earth.

The mortuary arrived. They needed me to help with the child while they attended to paperwork. I was the one that placed this child in a white bag and zipped it up. I refused to do it all the way and wrapped his blanket around him so that the family would only see their child wrapped in a blanket, looking like he was sleeping.

It wasn’t till I got out to the van that I completed the job and zippered up the bag.

Where does this leave us? Oh, okay, this is the never-ending life painfully sucks part.

Part 2: There was a family who loved their child so much that instead of admitting this terminally ill child to a hospice unit and leaving him there, they took him home and loved him till the end of his life. They did this knowing the pain it would cause them personally. It’s also about a nurse, who cared so much for this family, that she would care for this child even knowing the pain it could cost her.

In this life, we are all terminally ill. I’m not referring to death will happen to everyone, although it will. I’m referring to our attitudes towards each other, the planet, and the rest of the life that lives here.

We destroy each other’s spirit through words and actions. We allow our thoughts and biases to color the way we behave. That could be even through rose-colored glasses.

We don’t bother to ask questions or look for truth other than to do a basic engine search.

When will we learn to help build each other up instead of tearing each other down? Even those we don’t know? Is there hope left for us?

Yes! I firmly believe so. Through everything I’ve seen and experienced, I still believe there is hope. I suppose it’s because I’ve seen so much love. I believe we can nurse each other back to health. I believe that there is hope for humans to see the harm they cause in the world. If there are things in our lives or world that seem truly hopeless, we can still hold them with love. We can let go with love and learn.

Why? Because the alternative is unthinkable.