Eve of the Last Day

Tis the eve of my last day of fieldwork. Can't believe how fast these past twelve weeks have flown by. Wish I had something real inspiring to say, but right now my brain is pretty shot. Ready for some time off. One month till I begin my second level II fieldwork at a private pediatric clinic.

I suppose if I was to something of worth right now, I'd talk about how much I've learned from everyone- from my supervisor and everyone in the dept to each patient. I'd probably mention how fulfilling it has been to have been such involved with so many strangers so intimately. Hmm, that sounds a little off. See my brain has "fallen out." Think what I'm trying to say is that there is something very powerful and moving in assisting people with their daily activities. Washing someone's feet, shaving a man's face, helping a woman don a bra... I will miss these unique moments of human connectedness. These moments are now "tattooed on the surface of my heart."

It's been real. See you in four weeks!

Flexing the Emotional Muscle

I've really toned up in the last few weeks and I'm not talking about my abs. (On the contrary, I've eaten my fair shair of treats during this fieldwork.) I'm actually refering to the intense emotional workout that I participate in routinely. Every day my ability to handle emotional stresses increases and although you cannot see this type of tone physically, I can certainly feel it. Midge brought this analogy to me the other day and it has helped to understand and accept the new "strength" that I've developed. Just as an athlete pushes their bodies to handle more and more physical stress- gaining strength and endurance, I have done so emotionally. I can handle more situations without breaking down emotionally, thus being able to provide more for my client. However, there is a danger, a risk of over-doing it. Becoming too tough, so that I cannot engage emotionally. I need to be strong enough to protect myself, but flexible enough to feel, empathize, and connect.

Today my strength was tested. One of my patients, with whom I really bonded, was sent out to a skilled nursing facility (SNF aka nursing home) to continue therapy and receiving medical care until he is ready to go home. But the idea of this didn't thrill him and the look in his eyes could have killed me. Not sure what it was, as we both knew it made sense, but the idea of not being able to return home was just devestating to the both of us. I shook his hand, gave him a hug, and ran out the room before he could see the tears in my eyes. Maybe it was the thought that if had a better team of doctors and therapists he could have done better. Maybe it was the thought that he should stay here until he can go home regardless of what his health insurance policy says. Maybe it was the thought that his daughter who has taken care of him for many years at home just can't do it anymore. Maybe it was the thought that he's a veteran, but not enough of one to receive benefits from the VA. Or maybe it was just that I saw a man who was facing the beginning of the end. Anyway you cut it, it hurts and like after a good workout, I'm a little sore.

PS- My bond with this patient really formed during the initial eval when I asked... "So are you right or left handed?" Considering that his right hand was missing (amputated from the elbow down due to an electrocution injury 35years ago), he's pretty much left-handed. We laughed.