It’s been a while, I apologize. So much has happened, I barely know where to begin.
Well, I guess I should start with a plug for a fabulous young band from Canada, The Abrams Brothers. About a week ago, my family & I went to our local park to see The Courtyard Hounds – the band featuring Marty and Emily from the Dixie Chicks – play. They are beautiful and they sound FANTASTIC!!! Check out their album. It’s worth it.
Anyway, on that beautiful evening – one I feared would be ruined by the torrential rain most of the day – The Abrams Brothers took to the stage and blew everyone away. Their blend of blue grass, country and rock ‘n roll was incredible, especially since the youngest one just graduated from high school! We had the opportunity to meet the band afterwards, which our daughter jumped at. So we went and spoke to each of them. Two of them are 20 years old, the other is just 18 – and he plays fiddle like a seasoned pro. It was really nice to see who they are right now, because one day they will be really famous and I’ll remember seeing them at the beginning.
So, movin’ on.. my husband has been trying to organize our apartment for far longer than I care to admit. Since our little sweetie is off visiting family for a few weeks, I thought I would work on getting rid of old nursing texts. They are big, bulky and take up a ton of space.
Looking back, I think I can safely say that I would have stayed a post-partum nurse forever, had it been up to me. As I went through all of the books, and even some notes from my clinical days, I felt incredibly sad. Cheated even. RSD took so much from me. It took then and it continues to take now. When I read through the evaluations I received from the RN’s in my labor and delivery training, I was reminded that I was a good nurse once. They said such positive things about the person I was all those years ago. Things like, “eager,” “professional,” “caring,” “I hope she comes to work here after graduation.” The tears came. But then I looked around my apartment. I saw photos of my family and remembered moments I would have missed if I was working full-time.
I can only imagine how hard it must be to have to choose between being a full-time employee outside the home or a full-time stay at home mom. I feel for every parent who has ever been forced to choose. But I never got to make that choice, it was made for me. When I was first diagnosed, I went through the motions so quickly that I barely had time to process what happened. I went from working full time evenings as a registered nurse – with a couple of really bad heel spurs – to being diagnosed with RSD and having to give up my job. To being told that my left foot and leg would never be the same.
Although I am feeling a bit nostalgic for my professional life, never think for one second that I haven’t loved every minute all of this has given me with my family. I just wish that it happened differently. I wish I had been given the choice. But I wasn’t. So I tied up the old texts, too old for anyone to get anything from them. They can’t even be donated since they’re about 15 years old. So they’re being recycled.
I’ll always be a nurse. I was published in a nursing journal, I could try for that again. When things like this happen, it certainly isn’t the way you thought it would be, but you can reshape your ambitions. You can mold your hopes around what life throws at you. I’m only in my late thirties, young enough to get a lot done. Young enough to…… well to do whatever the heck I can do. And that feels pretty good.
But all I want right now is to be a good mom and wife. To be a decent person to those around me. I have been here for everything my child has been through and there isn’t enough money in the world to match the value of that. I am incredibly lucky. And very happy.
So take THAT RSD. And while you’re at it, pass me the Kleenex.
Peace & painlessness,