Birthing a Misconception

I have heard, way too many times....”Rich is so lucky you're a nurse.” It's time to birth that misconception and change it's diaper.

Living in the epicenter of no less than five major medical facilities, I face a less than favorable concept of Nurse. First of all, there are two kinds. RN's and LPN's. Round these parts, RN stands for Real Nurse, and LPN stands for Little Pretend Nurse. I looked into both when I made the decision to become a nurse and I chose LPN for several reasons—none of which are because “it's easier”. It's not.

That said, I have never told any of Rich's health care professionals that I am a nurse. Mainly because I've heard nurses do that and it sounds really rude. It's like someone announcing to you that they are a Christian with a tone that suggests “so you'd better watch yourself, because I'm watching you, and I have a direct line to GOD.!”

Every nurse I know and respect has had the experience of having a patient or family member stridently announce to them, “I am a Nurse” (and yes, they do say Nurse with a capital N) Which suggests that a) they know how it SHOULD be done so you had better damn well do it that way; and b) they will not accept the sub-standard care you give to the rest of your patients. This is offensive. Therefore, I do not volunteer that I'm a Little Pretend Nurse. Rich on the other hand....

No matter how many times I've tried to explain this to him, he just doesn't get it. He loves to tell everyone he meets that his wife is a nurse. I cringe. I prefer to give the name of the facility I work for and they can assume I work in housekeeping. I learned this from my son, who never tells people he's a police/SWAT officer, he tells them he works for the City of _________.

So now that Rich has blown my cover, I have to work even harder to be polite and obedient to the point of being obsequious, lest I offend the people I'm relying on. 95% of the time it's not a problem because in the past 712 days I can count on one hand the number of healthcare professionals that inspired me to jump ugly, and I assure you they had earned and deserved my wrath.

I assure you that I would have far more muscle if they knew me only as Rich's wife. Once they know I'm a nurse I lose my power to question and demand answers. It's the dynamic of the doctor/nurse relationship. I wish I knew how to explain it.

If anything, being a nurse has made dealing with Rich's cancer much more difficult. If I were not a nurse I would have fired the first infectious disease doctor-ass wipe three days into Rich's visit with the hedge hog people. That's what spending years of being reminded on a daily basis how inferior you are to a first year medical student does to you. I would have asked the questions that were gnawing at my gut before he had the chemo-embolization that nearly killed him. The doctor did a fine job of explaining the procedure....entering through a femoral vein, injecting a bolus of chemo into each of the two large tumors in the liver, then clamp their blood supplies and the result is we've killed the tumors. I asked what would happen to that dead tissue and the doc looked at me like I was a two year old with diminished capacity. Clearly incapable of understanding his wisdom, he simply assured me that Rich's body would take care of it. Really?!? Really. Apparently Rich's body could have used a little help dealing with two large lumps of dead, rotting, necrotic tissue in his liver.

Two weeks later the infectious disease doctor doesn't know where the infection is coming from. Really?!?!? Really. On three occasions I suggested the dead tissue in the liver might be the site of origin, and he dismissed me with, “well, we can't be sure of that.” The nurse in me backed down while the wife was screaming in my head “WELL I CAN BE SURE!! You flaming fuck. YOU need to step away from the patient and get Dr McGee and Dr Awender on this because those two are the ones who run this show.”

If you've been with this blog from the beginning, I don't need to repeat the episodes of pure frustration. I realize now that being a nurse did not make any of it easier for me or Rich. Except for one thing. I was able to access enough information to select the right doctors—McGee and Awender. The interlopers in Rich's treatment would have been better handled by Rich's wife.

I wish I had some halfway decent instruction for being your loved one's advocate in the arena of healthcare. I just don't. You're in the Ring, both hands tied behind your back and as soon as you get your balance, someone puts a blind fold on you. Yee-hah. Fun times.

At the risk of sounding “New Age Sappy Happy” I can tell you what helped me.

Number One is Trust in your higher power—your Creator, your God, your Goddess, your Allah, Buddha, Jehovah, the Force, Jesus Christ, Judas Priest, Luke Skywalker, Doctor Who, or the elves in your garden. Whatever Label you Choose, Trust IN (insert Name Here):_______________.

Number Two—when the plane is going down and the oxygen masks drop from their compartments, there IS a reason that you put yours on first.

Number Three—Live in Dog Time. This is what I miss most about losing my dogs. No matter what was going on, they always knew what time it is. It's Right Now. That's the only time there really is. Live in Dog Time.

Number Four—Build your Team, and let them do their jobs. Good leaders don't micro-manage. Let your healthcare professionals take care of the physical body while you take care of mind and spirit. When you have the right team, and a plan, it's far easier to reach your goal

Number Five—When someone has cancer their soul is searching for equilibrium, so how you treat them defines them. If you treat them like a victim, they become a victim; if you treat them like a patient, they become a patient; if you pity them, they become pitiable; if you treat them like a warrior...

Number Six---you're not always going to be in sync with your cancer warrior. In those moments you have to remember that you are the Second, and bottom line decisions are theirs. This is when it's good to call a friend. I pray you are as blessed as I have been.

Number Seven—Laugh. Laugh as much and as often as possible. I have DVDs always at the ready for this. Caddy Shack, Blues Brothers, Animal House, anything Mel Brooks is a solid gold guarantee; British comedies are always a winner, and I'm learning to love the Three Stooges. I consider these treatments every bit as critical as the pharmaceuticals.

Number Eight—cry. Cry as much, as hard, and as often as you need. Cry together. Rich had surgery to remove the necrotic tumors in his liver. Crying removes the necrotic emotions in the heart and soul.

Number Nine—Be. Be present in each moment, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Be kind to yourself and others; be patient with yourself and others; Be ready to accept whatever follows Right Now. To Be, you must Breathe. So Breathe. Breathe with intention; breathe energy In, breathe toxins Out. Breathe and Be present in each moment. Namaste