A few weeks ago I read a quote by mother Theresa. It spoke volumes to my soul. Love until it hurts, then there will be no more hurt; only love. I have recently gone back to college after 13 years out, and an outstanding career in occupational therapy for 10. I really Loved my career. Though I always had passion and genuine respect for OT, and I did love my career, I realized that I had never loved it until it hurt. It began hurting when I knew I was going to have to quit. I tried pushing on, my co - workers accommodated so I could continue to practice even a few short hours a week.
There were 3 defining moments that hurt like hell. They are seared in my memory, and though they don't feel like hot coals piercing me to recall, the embers continue to smolder even now. I had known the time was near, what I did not expect was the way the 3 events unfolded : one morning one of the patients I worked with who had advanced dementia grabbed me By the wrist. This is not something unusual. Only this time, i couldn't get away. He had my right hand. I had known that the grip strength in my left hand was weakening, as we had been measuring it with a dynamometer. I hadn't known that combined with balance issues and distal weakness creeping to the right side i would be unable to get away from a wrist grab. To make matters worse, we had State inspectors there... To make a long story short, I was " rescued" by a C.N.A. Who trusted me as a resource for working with the population who had combative behaviors. I thanked her, grabbed the key to the oxygen storage room, only for the first time ever, it was not to go refill an empty portable tank. It was there that I cried, thinking... I'm almost at the end of this road. This lovely career path that I believe God had chosen for me and sent me on.
My team of co- workers were very aware of my limitations, and by this time I was only treating patients with cognitive impairments, helping with medication management and what we call IADL's. Instrumental activities of daily living. This is where many people with early stages of dementia can " talk the talk"... Yes, they can do everything independently and safely and could they please go home now sort of role talk. When you hand them a phone book and ask them to find a mechanic, they might be unable. When you hand them a piece of paper with a phone number to call, they are sometimes unable to operate a phone. When asked to preheat the oven to 350, they might preheat it to 500 and so on. They can't " walk the walk" and the next defining moment came... When I couldn't either. There was no one in the gym that day, and a patient needed to use the bathroom... Urgently. I had not worked with anyone with balance issues in quite awhile. I managed to get the gait belt on the patient ( so I could help them when their balance failed) something I had done automatically for the last 10 years. The problem came, not when the patient experienced balance problems, but when I did. I was holding onto the gait belt for my balance. It was over. And I knew it. I cried for 45 minutes on the way home that afternoon, called my district manager and thanked her and the team for their continued support and gave my notice. They had been waiting. For me. After working in this business for so many years, they knew I had to make the decision.
My last week of work, I told a few co- workers that on my last day I would appreciate it if on Thursday they would say " see ya on Monday, Cindy, have a great weekend." just like always. 2 complied with my wish. 1 rode the elevator down with me ( which had been humbling itself since I had always taken the stairs unless I had a patient... Oh how I raced those stairs) as I sobbed uncontrollably, helped me in my car , hugged me and thanked me. I drove a bock away. Sat for 2 hours wailing like a grieving spouse.
I had never known how much I loved my career, until I had it no longer. But the great news is that I have finally returned to college and am preparing for a new career that still encompasses the health care profession, and even OT. I plan to do medical journalism, revise OT textbooks now that ive been on the other side of the fence, research, and wellness education and am toying with the idea of putting together some seminars. I should graduate next Summer. I am looking forward instead of back most days and feel like helping others overcome obstacles all those years, prepared me to have courage to attempt to overcome mine. I have discovered that my brain is still a sponge, and I have a renewed hope that the first 10 years as an OT were a pre requisite to the path I am now forging ahead on, and I still have a lot to learn, and thankfully a lot of knowledge to share, just getting some more letters to add behind my name so I have the credibility to do all of that I am proclaiming.
That mother Theresa was incredibly wise being.
Museos-Música-Mange y mas
16 years ago
