The "Post" Language change

When I see a picture of Waylon, one like the one above, I think, "how" or "why", a person who is so physically fit and strong,

does not survive...

A young adult, just starting his life...

Just beginning...

I actually started this blog awhile back, but was unable to finish at the time.  When I  work on one of my posts, I want it to be authentic, real, honestly written and I have to be in a quiet place.  No distractions, no noise.......

Language change

There are certain words that I never struggled with, words that I was able to speak so freely and without even a hesitation, that is "pre-accident".  And then, there are words I couldn't even say, couldn't even let in my thought process without breaking down, "post-accident". 

I wanted to share this with you, because, to tell you the truth, I never even thought about it before.  I mean, it had never really crossed my mind.  And, why should it?  I had never experienced such a devastating loss as I did nearly two years ago.

I have been in the nursing field since I was 18.  (Really since I was 16, if you count the year or so that I worked in a nursing home, in the kitchen.  And yes, I saw things that scared me.  Almost scared me out of being a nurse.)  So, frankly speaking, I had witnessed death.  I had seen it first hand.  Over and over.  And I'm not saying it didn't bother me, because it did.  But, when you are a nurse you have to learn to be compassionate but you can not let your compassion for others, consume you, you have to hold it together.  Sometimes, you are in life and death situations, and if you let compassion lead you during a critical moment, instead of your keen nursing skills, you will fall.  Tears have to stay in, emotions during a moment of grief, and awareness of another's suffering and loss have to be held back.

In a way, you are jaded to this, in that moment.  I'm not saying it is a good thing, because as a family member of a loved one, that is dying, medical personnel may seem cold, distant and indifferent to what has occurred during your time of loss.

(Interjection here....when I walked into your hospital room that night Waylon....the first thing after looking quickly at you, was to look at your nurse....I met her eyes....I think I saw some fear...
and I had to quickly release myself from "being a nurse" to "being a mom"....I wanted to help fix you...
I wanted to ask more questions....
It was hard not to pressure them more for answers..
Then, I looked back at you,
I had No control over any of it,
I had to hand it all over....
to the nurse,
to the physician....
to
God.)

I want you to understand this is not what it appears.  I'm speaking for myself and all of my fellow comrades.  We do care, we do have compassion, and that is what makes it so hard.

So, I had pretty much heard all the medical lingo surrounding, "death".

Words like, morgue, mortuary, cemetery, burial, Casket, funeral service, grave, coffin, autopsy, post mortem, death, dead, killed, cremation, rigor mortis, depart, afterlife, Casualty, eternal rest, euthanasia, fatality, Time of death, the clock stopped and so on.......I am sure you are catching on.  These words had meaning, don't get me wrong, but  I would soon come to realize though, that,  after "the accident", these words would become my nightmare, my worst enemy....
they hurt, they stabbed me in the chest,
I would cringe at hearing them........
It was like being tormented, over and over...I hated it...
and it was my job.
I struggled over and over and over,
at work,
watching the news,
in conversation.........
seeing it in writing,  newspaper,
the radio.....
People would ask about....
"where Waylon was"
"his Monument,"
and ...
in general conversation........the words and statements that people would say.....not knowing.....what it meant to me....
I mean, you don't walk around with a sign on you that says....shhhh, "watch what you say
I'm grieving..."
when you go "back to work,"
you run into the general public...
not everybody knows...
sure, they may look at you and think...


"what's with her,"
"why the sad look all day long,"
"don't you ever smile,"
"do you need something for those allergies"
"you need a Pill"
"Wow"...



and all I could do was cringe back at these thoughts...

this is how it is...




At the time of the "accident"....I was employed at a "long term facility".  You may call it a "nursing home".  I enjoyed my position there.  It was a "nicer" facility, and I had involvement with the skilled part of the facility.  But, after the "accident", it all changed, I knew I would have a very difficult time with what I saw and dealt with every day. 

I did try to go back....
and it became very stressful for me....
the anxiety that filled me every day..
I made it as long as I could...
but stress is my enemy..
it robs me
drains me
and kills me a little every day...


It has been a very long and difficult road...
I am now back in a hospital...
Yes....it's hard...
I face the demons head on...

I have had the opportunity to "share Waylon" at work now...

Now, after 2 years....
I can usually say his name, without bursting into tears,

it's hard...
I cry with some of my patients...
some that I "get to bond with"
The ones I can tell that have also
experienced a "hurt"...
And, the ones willing to share with me,
even during their own illness.

It helps...
but it is very difficult...
I have to stay so focused at work

Or I wont make it my 12 hour shift...
(I have been fortunate, to have a group of nurses that
have helped me through some of this..)


If you are reading this..
and you know me...
thanks for sharing your story with me.
It helps...


But with every "bonding" moment I get
I suffer great pain...

I try not to cry...
but
some of my patients cry with me...

and "It helps".


This week.  Has been so painful.

Yesterday, was Waylon's birthday.
June 21st, 1990.
Waylon shares his birthday with his brother,
Wyatt..

Wyatt turned 19.


Happy Birthday to both of
"my boys".

Two of my daughters took me away this week.
We took a little float trip...
walked through downtown shops..
ate a "quaint" little eatery..

I know they were trying to help me.
Take me away from some stress..

But still.
You are always there with me Waylon.
Always,
in my heart,
on my mind....

You are still here,
with all of us.




So, do I have difficulty with words..
yes.
It hurts to say them.
Hurts to hear them.
Hurts to think of them.

I avoid them.
As much as I can.

Maybe, someday.
It will be easier.




This blog may be scattered and almost rambling.
But, that's how my thoughts are right now...
I have not been able to "blog" for awhile..
It takes times....
I want to be as honest  and forthcoming,
with all of this "process",
journey
road to healing..
whatever we call it.
So that maybe it will help others.

God bless the suffering,
the weak,
the sick,
the lost...
Help us God.

Thank you for reading.

Endure the Race.