Poker face...

I'm steadfast and I'm quiet,
I listen and observe.
On the surface you don't see my wounds, on the surface I'm not heard.

My strength doesn't lie in things I know, nor things I can explain.
If strength was left for me to find, my search would be in vain.

I've dug deep trenches in my heart,
I've built up walls of stone.
I’ve worn a poker face more times, than anyone would know.

Surreal's become reality, in more ways than I'd wish.
I never imagined way back when, it would all add up to this.

There's lessons in the heartache,
there’s  growth that comes from pain.
I may be playing poker now, but winning's not my aim.

I aim to find the quiet, the peace that once was lost.
Sometimes putting up a fight, is far too high a cost.

I'm steadfast and I'm quiet,
I listen and observe.
I've worked out what this life's about from all that I have learnt.

KT x

Each and every day!

 

I have had the privilege of nursing some truly amazing, inspirational people in my career as a nurse. With ten years looking after patients and families dealing with cancer, there aren’t many human emotions I haven’t met- my own and those of the people in my care. Ironically, working in cancer as a speciality is not a depressing job, despite any misconceptions that it might be. It’s challenging, saddening, and frustrating sometimes, yet completely humbling.

I was twenty-one years old when I worked on my first cancer ward. Looking back I realise just how young that was to face some of the things I encountered. I began to think about my own mortality and the mortality of my family and friends, more than your average person in their twenties. I quickly learnt that cancer doesn’t discriminate; nursing people the same age as my parents, grandparents, and some who were even the same age as me.  I’ve watched many fight cancer and win; celebrating with them and their families as they received their amazing news, and I’ve shed a tear for those who fought on bravely and did not overcome- I still remember a great many of those patients and their families. What continually surprises me over the years is the strength of character that people display, along with the simple joy of being alive each and every day. There is a good lesson in that for many of us.

My work with these patients has meant that I spend a considerable amount of time getting to know them and their families; I would often see some of them more than my own family- or so it seemed. Caring for them daily, weekly, monthly; from the devastation of diagnosis, through treatment and into recovery, which I always hope for. I would learn about them and their families- those that were getting married, passing exams, having children, taking cruises, buying and selling houses, and all the other aspects of their lives. At first, I had a hard time learning not to get too attached; the first few patients that I nursed and sadly lost hit me the hardest. It was only after a couple of years that the words of one matron made sense; ‘you must save your grief for your own loved ones’. It was true, and spoken with the wisdom of no doubt learning the hard way, as we all do. Grief is a difficult emotion, one that everyone deals with differently. In the job I do there is a balance of achieving compassion, yet not allowing yourself to grieve alongside people; if we did, we wouldn’t be in our job for long, and perhaps that is why some people could never do this particular field of nursing. There are many fields of nursing I know I wouldn’t be suited to, children’s nursing for one, particularly now that I am a mum myself.

My job isn’t easy, and some days I don’t want to face bad news and suffering. On those days I have to remind myself that I am not the one going through, what they are going through and I also remind myself of the people I have helped over the years; the hands I’ve held, the hugs I’ve given and received from relieved family members, when a scan result came back clear. The relief on a person’s face when I’ve stepped into a room to see them, when they’re unwell, and the phone calls from scared patients whose voices lift just enough to know I made a difference to their suffering. Living with the trust that people have in you to make them better, is a great responsibility and a deep privilege.

We are only human and we all have bad days, where the trivialities of life overwhelm us and this is okay, but I try and remember how fortunate I am every day that I am alive and well. Every day that I get to see or speak with my loved ones, I count as a blessing. Because being a cancer nurse for over a decade has taught me not to take those things for granted.

KT x