My smile is a large part of my identity. I greet everyone I encounter by smiling. Regardless of what is going on in my life, each new interaction I treat as a fresh start. Everyone deserves the best side of the people they are around. Every patient I meet, every stranger I run into, every coworker I see, I welcome them with a smile.
Several years ago I had a very sick patient. When I arrived on scene, I greeted her with the same smile I still bear to this day. Maybe it’s a comfort measure to me. I don’t know when or why I started smiling but I do. She looked at me and said thank you. While we were treating her, starting IVs, placing her on the heart monitor, giving her medication, she told me my smile made her feel safe. She said it was warm and comforting and she knew she was in good hands. All because I smiled.
Now my smile is gone.
It’s still there but it’s hiding. It’s covered up by a mask. My patients can’t see me try to comfort them with my smile. My coworkers can’t see my warm greeting. I don’t have that as a part of my identity anymore.
I will still wear a mask. I will continue to wear a smile. But some days are harder than others.
Some days look more like this picture. The juxtaposition of the graphics on this shirt while I am in tears isn’t lost on me. This is me trying to show the world a brave face but hurting inside. Wearing my metaphorical mask. Hiding behind an actual mask.
I’m getting better. My mask is more literal than figurative now. I know masks have become a part of everyday life and they will continue to be a part of my life. I will have to comfort people in a new way.
I will find my smile again.
Oily Minded Medic 