Self compassion has to be one of the hardest things to embrace. I think it is inherent in our human nature to question "what ifs" - what if I said this, what if I did that. We'll never know if those "ifs" would have made a difference, but we still obsess. The responses to your inner critic, Anna, were so spot on.
Your beautiful essay also validates just how broken healthcare can be. Options must be discussed and understood. Care must be given. You are clearly in the right profession. Those who benefited from your care are very fortunate.
Someone wise once told me that I can't judge yesterday Shannan with today's Shannan's wisdom and knowledge because it's unfair to yesterday's Shannan. And as I read your note, tearing up at your experience, feeling the pressure of the decisions and the post-decision "rehash" and guilt and the guilt and grief and anticipatory grief you are so strong and brave. and you did it all while your brain was swimming in cortisol...chronically.
Self-compassion is a journey.
And honoring the legacy of those we love is a lifetime.
Thanx for your feedback. Yes the cortisol. Just imagining in my head that stuff rushing through me like jet fuel on the cusp of igniting. One thing it has done for me since Stu died--I am ferocious about self-care now.
Anna, my heart aches for everything you and Stu went through. I was in awe of how you managed to convince the supervising nurse to allow you to stay. It takes extra pain and stress to persuade medical staff you need to stay, even or perhaps especially if you're an RN!
I've had the most frustrating, counterproductive, angry tears a couple of times, when staff use them as a sign of exhaustion and push me home.
'The conveyor belt' is so true! I lost count of ER times when a medic wanted to operate or 'take care of' Dad's sub-renal aortic aneurysm...I tried my best not to get stroppy with staff but not many people saw him holistically, as a whole complex person. Each ER visit felt transactional. We had to keep pointing out the complexity and above all his fragile heart.
Self-compassion for me is literally placing my hand on my heart and feeling a situation. Breathwork is important. My overactive brain often needs reassurance about taking head-heart-gut-aligned decisions/choices. I try to feel underneath things via meditation, not just in the quiet and sitting in a formal practice but also informally walking/during everyday tasks.
Well, I have to admit to leaving out the part where I threatened to call Risk Management because they had no staff to sit with him and he was 10/10 risk for falling in the middle of the night. So yes, they gave him up when I threatened them because I knew the system well enough to know which buttons to push.
Such a sad postscript on a look inside the system.
Anger management at the system is more my problem now. It is driving me to finish my memoir though. So yeah.
Love this example of how to give ourselves compassion.
Self compassion has to be one of the hardest things to embrace. I think it is inherent in our human nature to question "what ifs" - what if I said this, what if I did that. We'll never know if those "ifs" would have made a difference, but we still obsess. The responses to your inner critic, Anna, were so spot on.
Your beautiful essay also validates just how broken healthcare can be. Options must be discussed and understood. Care must be given. You are clearly in the right profession. Those who benefited from your care are very fortunate.
Don't get me started on the U.S. health care system. It is a national disgrace.
I fully agree. It is overwhelmingly sad!!
Anna -
Someone wise once told me that I can't judge yesterday Shannan with today's Shannan's wisdom and knowledge because it's unfair to yesterday's Shannan. And as I read your note, tearing up at your experience, feeling the pressure of the decisions and the post-decision "rehash" and guilt and the guilt and grief and anticipatory grief you are so strong and brave. and you did it all while your brain was swimming in cortisol...chronically.
Self-compassion is a journey.
And honoring the legacy of those we love is a lifetime.
Thank you for your sharing your truth.
Thanx for your feedback. Yes the cortisol. Just imagining in my head that stuff rushing through me like jet fuel on the cusp of igniting. One thing it has done for me since Stu died--I am ferocious about self-care now.
Anna, my heart aches for everything you and Stu went through. I was in awe of how you managed to convince the supervising nurse to allow you to stay. It takes extra pain and stress to persuade medical staff you need to stay, even or perhaps especially if you're an RN!
I've had the most frustrating, counterproductive, angry tears a couple of times, when staff use them as a sign of exhaustion and push me home.
'The conveyor belt' is so true! I lost count of ER times when a medic wanted to operate or 'take care of' Dad's sub-renal aortic aneurysm...I tried my best not to get stroppy with staff but not many people saw him holistically, as a whole complex person. Each ER visit felt transactional. We had to keep pointing out the complexity and above all his fragile heart.
Self-compassion for me is literally placing my hand on my heart and feeling a situation. Breathwork is important. My overactive brain often needs reassurance about taking head-heart-gut-aligned decisions/choices. I try to feel underneath things via meditation, not just in the quiet and sitting in a formal practice but also informally walking/during everyday tasks.
Thank you for sharing your letter. xo
Well, I have to admit to leaving out the part where I threatened to call Risk Management because they had no staff to sit with him and he was 10/10 risk for falling in the middle of the night. So yes, they gave him up when I threatened them because I knew the system well enough to know which buttons to push.
Such a sad postscript on a look inside the system.
Anger management at the system is more my problem now. It is driving me to finish my memoir though. So yeah.