I'll share my experience as of late. Currently I'm numb and think I should switch my feelings off. Then I reason that without my feelings or ability to take onboard others' problems, then I'm not 'me' anymore. Anyone relate? I figure it could be an introverted Ethical thing but I suppose any other types feel this way at times too. I'm a suspected EII...
Some context; I work as a receptionist for the Endoscopy department of a city hospital. We perform camera tests inside the oesophagus and bowels; and sometimes people are diagnosed with cancer or are here because they already have the disease and need scoped to check out the area for potential surgery and assessment of tumour growths.
My job is to check in patients and their information, and then hand them over to the nurses. Yet I can't seem to 'ok, next!' push them along. I let them talk to me about their anxiety of the test, I try to reassure them that the tests will be ok and that they'll get better. I get involved. I have been 'told off' before for letting patients talk my ear off when I should just shush them up and say a nurse will speak to them.
Well...I'm not sure I can do this anymore. My whole approach is questioned now. A family friend has had oesophageal cancer. Recovered after surgery on the tumour in his throat. Has died early hours of this morning because it had came back a few weeks back and spread. I'm heartbroken. I didn't know him well as such and was always fairly timid around him and his family. But their loss has rocked my core. Also I have lost a Great Aunt to Bowel Cancer. Same thing happened. She was better then suddenly it returned and killed her.
I feel like I've been false to all of those patients I've spoken to in my year of working at the hospital. I am not a nurse or a consultant. And despite my prayers and attempts at comfort I cannot take their pain away.
I'm not sure I can go back into work tomorrow and put on a brave face for people who have suspected cancer, or are undergoing treatment. Just last week I checked in a man who is due the same op my dad's friend had. I told him he looked well despite his complaints of chemo being gruelling, and said I had no doubt that the consultant would get the rest of the nastiness away. I lied to this man. And to myself. I like to believe everyone will be ok. But I'm wrong. So wrong.
A naive ideal of mine left over from childhood dreaming days. This belief both crushes me when it's proven wrong, when people aren't ok, yet also gives me hope to keep on keeping on. But all I can see is evidence lately that life is cruel and twisted and I have every right to be afraid anxious and sad because nightmares will come true...
Some context; I work as a receptionist for the Endoscopy department of a city hospital. We perform camera tests inside the oesophagus and bowels; and sometimes people are diagnosed with cancer or are here because they already have the disease and need scoped to check out the area for potential surgery and assessment of tumour growths.
My job is to check in patients and their information, and then hand them over to the nurses. Yet I can't seem to 'ok, next!' push them along. I let them talk to me about their anxiety of the test, I try to reassure them that the tests will be ok and that they'll get better. I get involved. I have been 'told off' before for letting patients talk my ear off when I should just shush them up and say a nurse will speak to them.
Well...I'm not sure I can do this anymore. My whole approach is questioned now. A family friend has had oesophageal cancer. Recovered after surgery on the tumour in his throat. Has died early hours of this morning because it had came back a few weeks back and spread. I'm heartbroken. I didn't know him well as such and was always fairly timid around him and his family. But their loss has rocked my core. Also I have lost a Great Aunt to Bowel Cancer. Same thing happened. She was better then suddenly it returned and killed her.
I feel like I've been false to all of those patients I've spoken to in my year of working at the hospital. I am not a nurse or a consultant. And despite my prayers and attempts at comfort I cannot take their pain away.
I'm not sure I can go back into work tomorrow and put on a brave face for people who have suspected cancer, or are undergoing treatment. Just last week I checked in a man who is due the same op my dad's friend had. I told him he looked well despite his complaints of chemo being gruelling, and said I had no doubt that the consultant would get the rest of the nastiness away. I lied to this man. And to myself. I like to believe everyone will be ok. But I'm wrong. So wrong.
A naive ideal of mine left over from childhood dreaming days. This belief both crushes me when it's proven wrong, when people aren't ok, yet also gives me hope to keep on keeping on. But all I can see is evidence lately that life is cruel and twisted and I have every right to be afraid anxious and sad because nightmares will come true...