Saphire
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Feb 28, 2000
- Messages
- 4,035
As a physical therapist, every day I see people in various stages of dying. I do get used to it, it is part of the job, and there are so many people that pass through my care that I couldn't possibly feel the intensity of every story, every family. But once in a while, someone touches my heart and reminds me of how personal and sad and devastating it is to witness the physical decline of a loved one. If I felt it all the time, I couldn't possibly do what I do, it would be far too painful.
Sometimes I know immediately who will touch me like that. A glance, a joke, a smile, a sparkle in the eye, an immediate connection. I have treated thousands of patients yet sometimes I know after 60 seconds that 'this one' will capture my heart. After doing this for 24 years, I still find myself thinking about someone at night, praying for them, hoping all will go well with them at home. 'Bill' is the one I think of tonight. Dying of lung cancer and struggling for each breath, it is up to me to get him just a little bit stronger to go home. I have met his wife and sons... strong, caring men who love their Dad. When you look at a family in action, speaking to each other in their familiar ways, I am flooded with emotion and think of how this man raised these boys, loved these boys, and now tenderly they give back to their Dad the love that was given to them. Sometimes it is too much to hold!
I look forward to going into the hospital tomorrow and working with this special man. The truth is, they are all special. I pray every day that I give each patient the effort, respect, time, and compassion they deserve.
Sometimes I know immediately who will touch me like that. A glance, a joke, a smile, a sparkle in the eye, an immediate connection. I have treated thousands of patients yet sometimes I know after 60 seconds that 'this one' will capture my heart. After doing this for 24 years, I still find myself thinking about someone at night, praying for them, hoping all will go well with them at home. 'Bill' is the one I think of tonight. Dying of lung cancer and struggling for each breath, it is up to me to get him just a little bit stronger to go home. I have met his wife and sons... strong, caring men who love their Dad. When you look at a family in action, speaking to each other in their familiar ways, I am flooded with emotion and think of how this man raised these boys, loved these boys, and now tenderly they give back to their Dad the love that was given to them. Sometimes it is too much to hold!
I look forward to going into the hospital tomorrow and working with this special man. The truth is, they are all special. I pray every day that I give each patient the effort, respect, time, and compassion they deserve.
