Feeling Another’s Pain — Accepting Our’s ~

The other morning, I entered the elevator at the hospital.  It was 0615, I was tired and wishing I was still in my warm bed at home.  I was followed by a younger woman and an older man.  They resembled one another and I assumed it was a daughter - father pair.  As the door of the elevator closed, the man let out a heavy sigh… the kind of sigh that came from a heavy heart.  The anxiety in that tiny elevator was palpable, as the daughter reached across and touched her father’s arm.  Their eyes met and their connection was undeniable.  I felt their pain and anguish.  The door opened on the surgical floor and they begin to exit.  As the daughter stood in front of me to wait on her elderly father - I touched her shoulder and just gave her a nod and a smile.  Words escaped me at that moment, but I wanted her to know I felt her pain.  How could I not?  Their expressions told stories of apprehension, fear and concern.  The love between them was tangible.  The daughter’s eyes as she looked at her frail father’s face made my heart ache.

My father died when he was a young 56 years.  Fortunately, he had been fairly healthy and I hadn’t had to bear the burden of accompanying him to a surgical appointment.  But being a neonatal nurse for over 20 years, I had felt the pain of many mothers and fathers as they’ve held their dying babies.  One father saw me years later and verbalized his appreciation for crying the day his son died.  How could I not cry, I felt their heartbreak.  That’s how I live, so it wasn’t a difficult task to feel the pain that spring morning in that tiny space.

I arrived on my floor and entered my unit, ready to start my day.  My heart was sad and I wondered often that day how the father had done and if his daughter had someone to support her.  I offered a prayer on their behalf and wished I could do more.

Accepting their pain came as second nature for me.  Accepting the pain of a new mother trying to understand the loss of her tiny baby came as part of my life as a nurse and the mother of a healthy daughter and two babies sleeping - as they await Christ’s return.  Two second trimester miscarriages, I never allowed myself to mourn until now.

Why is it easier or second nature for us to accept the pain of another, but yet, we deny our own?  As much as I’d like to find a clear and simple reason, I find it impossible.  Was it my childhood and watching my parents torn apart by infidelity?  Or was it my own marriage that failed early due to the same?  Was it how I was parented, being the second daughter of four children?  So many questions, so few answers that could truly be confirmed.  

Is it necessary to continue searching for those answers?  Will it decrease the chance of failure with my new life?  Will it increase my motivation?  Perhaps not. 

More than anything, I want to be successful, but at what cost?  It’s painful reliving the past, while picking apart every event, every experience and every hurt with a therapist. If a new life will be mine, through better understanding of my old life, I am ready, willing and with God’s help able.

May 17, 2008 | Filed Under My Everyday Life

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The Naughty Chair~

Bad weekend!
ARGH! If I had a Naughty Chair at my house, I’d make myself sit in it until I promised that I’d be a good Bandster and follow the rules! This was a bad weekend, I’m here to confess!
Nurse’s Week, Hospital Week, whatever, BUT I found myself at work surrounded by goodies! I am proof that what caused Obesity — in myself certainly is a Food Addiction!
Hello, My name is Dee and I’m a Food Addict!
Sure life goes along fine, until I am faced with Deep Fried Cheesecake or Parker’s Double Dark Rich Chocolate Chip Brownies! How unkind for the hospital to celebrate my profession with food! What about a $10.00 gift certificate for Kohl’s. Or a new really nice waterbottle, How about a day off with pay?
The fact is that it’s my fault I couldn’t resist bites of the fried cheesecake, the rich brownies and handfuls of the Sesame Sticks in the huge basket from Mountain Man Nut Co.
It’s not the hospital’s fault! Mine! All Mine!
I remember when I was in my early 20’s, I worked at a bank in Albuquerque. I was a college graduate who couldn’t find a job in my chosen career and I went to work daily with this gigantic chip on my shoulder. I sat in a tiny vault counting and paying Bearer Bonds. Angry at the world, angry at the fact that I had to work in a Bank, after graduating in the top 10% of my graduating class! I would have nightmares often of them dragging me to work, I’d be kicking and screaming! I’d wake up — a huge ball of sweat! Anyway, that year for our Christmas Bonus, they gave us 2 bottles of wine. “Wine?” - I questioned the Human Resource lady. “What if I don’t drink?” “What do you have for recovering alcoholics.” “You’re assuming everyone is over 21.” “What do you have for us?” She looked shocked at my questions and I realized not one other person had been so ungrateful in the face of such an irresponsible gift. “Give it away,” she said in a harsh tone! “No one is going to force you to drink it.” “It’s my Christmas Bonus!” I said trying to make myself sound really pathetic. “Why should I have to give my Bonus away?” She looked at me and said, “are you going to take it or not?” HR knew me well, I had been the one who had made a not so anonymous call to complain about the cigarette smoke in the tiny vault where I worked 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I was concerned about my unborn child who was growing in my womb. They brought me an air filter and set it on my desk after reporting my complaint to my manager who happened to be the chain smoker - she’d light her next cigarette with her last. Well, the unborn child was born and now I am once again being a pain in their necks! I left the office without my Christmas Bonus.
About 3 weeks later, I got a call from that HR lady. She was calling to inform me that they had a case of grapefruits waiting for me in their office. My new Christmas Bonus! Yum! Others in my department questioned why I got such a nice bonus when they got wine. I replied, “I refused to take the wine.”
Now giving alcohol to a group of over 800 employees, of all ages and social backgrounds, I still feel is very irresponsible. But is it the same as giving Deep Fried Cheesecake and Brownies? No. It’s really not. Why? Because I need to be accountable for me! I need to stop, think and consider what I am stuffing in my pie hole! I can’t blame anyone, for my bad behavior, but me!
So here I am, feeling like I need a Big Naughty Chair. One that could hold a big naughty child, like myself! Feeling regretful and like a failure. Two feelings I am quite familiar with, being the addict I am.
Responsibility, Accountability, Knowledge — just plain, paying attention. I remember reminding my daughter regularly that the key to success was paying attention. Maybe I should remind myself that!
The band isn’t a choke chain! It’s not going to reach out and block the food entering my mouth. It’s not going to give me G.I. upset from malabsorption if I eat the wrong foods. It allows me to be responsible and accountable for what I eat. I can easily by pass the band — by grazing, by drinking with my meals or by just eating what we call slider foods. Darn! I thought this was going to be easy! But seriously what’s easy about trying to overcome an addiction?
I will forever be a food addict, even if i weigh 110lbs. My name will be Dee - the food addict - the former Super Morbidly Obese girl, the one who was always the fattest in every room! Thankfully, I do not have a naughty chair. Thankfully, because I don’t need to be beating myself up for bad behavior - instead I need to be learning from it! I need to remember next time I am faced with treats, I can resist. I need to know that I can have something healthy to eat in place, if I’m truly hungry and if not, drink some water and pray that the “head hunger” will go away!
I’m human. I’m not a bad person. I’m an addict. I’m a Band owner.
Now, let me start over –
Hi! My name is Dee and I am working toward becoming a Recovering Food Addict. My goal is still to not be the fattest person in the room!

May 10, 2008 | Filed Under My Everyday Life

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