The Places You Go
I wrote this in July of 2018 during a tough spot, which is when I first started thinking about hitting the road and travel nursing.
Today while walking down the hallway on a particularly challenging day at work, I thought to myself: dig deep, Wheelis. Dig deep and find some more empathy. (There's gotta be some around here somewhere, right?!) As I thought that, I pictured myself diving into the center (my center? The universe’s center? My soul? Do I have one? Anyway…) and the image that appeared was me diving into a pool of green water, sparkling in the sun. Due to recently going on one of the most fun and best river trips EVER in Idaho, the first thought I had was: is this the Middle Fork of the Salmon? Insert long, wistful, slow smile here…It could have been many different rivers, though: the White Salmon, the Clackamas, the Molalla, the Misahualli, the Colorado...or even an alpine lake somewhere in the Cascades, in the Wallowas or Goat Rocks. Or the Pacific Ocean. Or the Caribbean. It could have been one of the couple of water-filled places that I used to have recurring dreams about, but that do not actually exist. The mind is a funny thing.
Every patient room I went in today was a tiny universe of The Worst Month of This Person's Life. I felt like every room I walked into, someone was nauseous, grimacing in pain, complaining constantly about a variety of very trivial things, about to have a panic attack, holding hands with family and crying and praying in Spanish for the loved one who tried and failed to kill themselves and will never be the same again, declining to take their much-needed psychiatric medications because "I'm half-alien!" and therefore the medications would not be effective, desperately trying to come to grips with the new reality of being paraplegic...ALL. DAY. LONG. Mind you, 12 hours of this while not entirely succeeding to hold my own shit together in regards to personal things in my own life. Thank the baby jesus for amazing co-workers. Oh, and they pay us! That helps too.
The last couple of days have been a whirlwind of Let's Stay Busy. I accomplished the following in approximately 36 hours: went running, went grocery shopping, made food, took a nap, cleaned the bathroom, talked to my family, cried, painted my toenails blue, watched Love, Actually, did the dishes, cried some more, had a solo dance party in my living room which involved me mostly spinning around in circles listening to many pretty, bittersweet songs, went bouldering at the rock gym, got my oil changed, bought a dress online for a funeral, did laundry, and talked to my boyfriend. I feel like I'm missing a couple of things...
Yesterday, I had a really lovely day out on the water with two good friends, both of whom were celebrating returning to a section of river that they hadn't done in a while. The water looked like my little dive-for-empathy-visualization: sparkling. And then we went and drank beer and laughed at my friend's very independent toddler who was attempting to befriend everyone in the restaurant. That's the trick, I guess; finding those places inside and outside yourself where you go for refuge when the buzzing of life becomes too harsh and heavy. And reminding yourself to return there when you need to.