Tuesday, September 14, 2010

fa-fa-fa fatigue

My head is pounding and my eyes are drooping, but I know that if I don't type tonight, I will be up again at the buttcrack of dawn trying to figure out why I am not sleeping well. Because I'm not. I fall asleep as if sleep were a drug and get about four hours, which is about what my poor mind apparently requires before it shifts back into high gear and bids me rise. Not a good pattern to be in right now. How am I supposed to learn to care for others or even actually do so on four hours of sleep or less?

We went to psych court today, which was a sad experience. I wept a bit while I was there, inwardly anyway. It was too crowded and populated to cry for real, but I wanted to. All those lives lost to a mind that does not function appropriately. I wish so much modern science could unlock the mysteries and if not cure things, then at least make the medications, which treat them very effectively, not have such bad side effects that the poor souls in need of them just can't stand to take them and contemplate feeling that way the rest of their lives. I actually stood there today watching a particularly heart-wrenching case and thinking "There IS something worse than cancer".

I am stumbling my way through so far. We had our exam on Monday, the first of the semester and I am waiting for grades to post. I suspect a nice, solid mediocrity is in wait for me on that one, which I also suspect I am going to be real okay with and yet feel guilty about. Nursing school is pretty tough. My standards change a bit.

Tomorrow we go to Terrell State Hospital, a state run mental hospital. I am more moved by these souls that I ever would have given credence to. Interestingly, they have lead me back to prayer on occasions, because the things I have seen wrong in the mental wards have been such that the lack of a cure is just pity inspiring. Beyond what I have seen in oncology and pediatrics. I do not know how to explain it. But it feels good to pray for them and to know God sees the real soul beneath the illness. This in turn comforts me, that perhaps in the darker moments of my life, the ones I have less pride in, perhaps God has the same sense.

I am so tired I can hardly type. I wanted to take a bath tonight but the idea of drawing it and waiting for it to fill and then sinking into it...and then having to get back out, dry off, hang up the towel and go to bed literally feels like far too much effort to accomplish. Yet I lay here in the dark and cannot shut my brian of enough to take advantage of the early bedtime. So maybe jotting this little note will do the trick. I am still loving school. I am in a phase where I am learning a LOT, about things I never even contemplated let alone acknowledged I did not now.

I am missing Joseph acutely. I am loving Nick and Alex with active mother-passion. And I am thankful for my large, sane, loving family. I would not trade a single thing.

3 comments:

Karen said...

Deep tiredness, but such eye-opening experiences. Prayng for people seems such a little act, but in Heaven we will find our how important it was. Hopefully rest will come...

karen gerstenberger said...

I'm thanking God that He called you to be a nurse. I'm thanking Joseph, too. You have a gift for caring. Your prayers are needed, and I know they avail, some way, some how. Your prayerful, caring, loving heart has the ability to bring healing to others. I believe with all my heart that you have been given what you need to fulfill your calling. Rest, dear friend, trusting the One who calls and equips you for the work.

Elizabeth said...

I grew up during the 70's with a bi-polar mom. She took lithium for years & years and went dutifully to get bloodwork done to monitor her lithium levels. As she aged, the side effects were terrible on her body. During the late 80's-mid 90's they substituted her medication to reduce the constant shaking in her hands. My mom was a by-product of thorazine, electric shock and straight jackets. I know the medication she took over the years ultimately shortened her life. She worked very hard to be 'normal', and I am proud to be her daughter. I want to thank you for your compassion and your insightful vision of the mentally ill. You are going to be one hell of a nurse! You should sleep easy as you deserve it!