Tag: mask

Life Lessons

I’ve learned and grown a lot over the last couple years. My entire world was ripped out from under me in a 6 month span. I could have collapsed. At times I wanted to. But I didn’t.

I persevered. I pushed forward. I grew. I learned. I became stronger.

I’ve learned my children will always be my motivation. Everything I do is for them. I want to be there for them and provide for them but also I want them to see resilience. I want them to know it’s okay to be hurt and life is hard but they can do it and it is worth it. I want them to know I am and will always be there for them.

I’ve learned it doesn’t matter how many years or miles separate you, good friends will always be there for you. ALWAYS.

I’ve learned friends come and go. And that’s okay.

I’ve learned some people like drama. They want to be a part of it. They will try to exploit yours or create their own to drag you into.

I’ve learned those people aren’t worth my time.

I’ve learned your emergency isn’t mine. I won’t make it mine. I can’t bear your burden and my own. I can help you help yourself. It’s all I have to offer and if you can’t help yourself, I can no longer help you either.

I’ve learned I will never be consistent posting blogs or to any other social media platform. I’m having fun and that’s all that matters.

I’ve learned I can have friends and go out with them when I want. I can buy that car or that house all on my own. I can have elective surgery if I choose. I don’t need permission from anyone but myself.

But most importantly I’ve learned we are all responsible for our own happiness. True happiness can only come from within. Being satisfied with who you are and where you are going.

I realised somewhere along the lines the biggest leap of faith one can take is to believe in oneself. Sure things will go wrong. Mistakes will be made. Don’t let that bring you down. Learn from it. Grow in spite of it.

I’ve learned I am enough. I was broken. Now I’m happy and stronger for having lived through it.

Moving On

How does one move on when his or her life has been completely turned upside down? Resiliency.

I can’t say where I would currently be if I didn’t have children to worry about. If my well being didn’t directly affect that of my children’s, I would probably be in a much darker space. I lost my father. I was grieving while caring for a grieving mother. She then broke her hip so I chose to tend to her needs over my own. All the while I was working full time as a paramedic in the middle of a global pandemic.

At some point in time my husband turned to someone else for his struggles. Now, we have to face them on our own. I am no longer the one he comes to when times get tough.

In the last 6 weeks I have learnt a lot. As it turns out, I am pretty strong. I am pretty resilient. I am a fighter. And I love fiercely. My children’s well being is more important than mine. I will make sure they are doing well even if it means making a sacrifice of my own. Sleep and nourishment have been second place to making sure my boys and girl know they are loved and I am there for them at all times these last few weeks.

As unintentional as is has been, I have lost almost 30 pounds in less than 6 weeks I try to eat. Food just makes me nauseated. I get hungry but then I can’t stomach anything. One or two bites and I have to stop.

It’s not just my marriage. I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve also lost all the family and friends that came with him. I am lost. I am hurt. I am trying to move on.

I am looking forward to 2021. I am looking forward to new beginnings. I am looking forward to a new life. I am looking forward to happiness that comes from within.

I miss my husband and our past life. I will add that to the list of bereavements I have accumulated in 2020. But one thing I refuse to do is show my children that they can’t overcome anything life throws at them. They need to see resilience in order to be able to replicate it in their own lives.

I may be hurting. I may be broken. But I refuse to let my children see that because there is so much more to life than your brain wants you to believe.

You are enough. You can do anything on your own. You will survive.

Pandemic Paramedicine

The first time I had to suit up to respond to a cardiac arrest at work during this pandemic, I was nervous. I have worn N95s and other protective equipment before but it felt different this time. It felt so much more dangerous.

This time I could bring home a virus that I didn’t know I was carrying. I’m already immunocompromised but so is my mother. She has been on inhaled steroids for most of her adult life and lives with us.

To all of you who work on a COVID unit, thank you. I don’t know how you do it.

I was so scared when I had to respond to the COVID unit of a local nursing home and transport a known positive patient. I can’t imagine that stress every time you go to work. You can’t become complacent because that’s when you get sick.

Thank you to everyone who wears their masks properly. Thank you to those washing their hands and properly socially distancing.

A HUGE thank you to everyone who works on the frontlines and to those in support services helping them behind the scenes.

Hidden Smiles

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.