I have hesitated in writing a new post lately. In my line of work, one has to take the sad days with the good days and lately there have been a lot of sad days in the PICU. Some days it just seems so difficult to do my job. People come into my life at the worst time in their lives and it's my job to be not only their child's nurse but their source of hope, comfort, and strength. And when there is no hope of giving a parent the answer they want to hear, it hurts to be the one who has to continue to repeat the same answers over and over again. Then there are the times when even though a patient will eventually be ok, the family won't. Multiple traumas, fires, car accidents...how do you explain to a parent why one child was taken and another wasn't?
I often share my losses with my patient's parents if I think it will give them some insight on what they are going through. While I know every situation is different, there is a common bond between parents who have lost children. It is the club no one wants to join but it often gives one strength to know that someone else has gone through it and survived. My emotional investment in my patients and their families can take a big toll on me, though.
Today as I get ready to leave for work, I mentally put on my armor and pray for the right words to say to parents who have lost children, parents who stand by and watch their child hurt while powerless to do anything for them, and parents who may or may not have their hopes dashed. I pray for the strength to hold these parents up when they are unable to hold themselves up.
Peace.
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