Rivers

Feeling deeply for Jean, who seems to be going through a particularly rough patch. She isn't specific, but I think I know the kinds of changes that leave one raw and lost and miserable, even as they are right and true.

She put me in mind of my first year in the OR. After so many years of struggling through, never resting, no stretches of calm water, dominos for as long as I could remember, the hours and stress of surgery wrung me out completely. Despite this, I knew I'd found my niche, a place to bloom. I came home every day and cried, and napped before dinner, then went to bed early. It's a difficult specialty to learn, because there is no slowing down for new people - learning at full speed takes more time, and can be terribly frustrating both to the newbie and the trainer.

Seems a long time ago, that sense of stumbling along. A childhood where I never felt safe - studied with all my heart for the sake of a chance out. College in a major where I had no talent, but my scholarship depended on my grades - so I struggled to get As. Uncle Walt died just as I started. Always had a part time job to pay rent, eat ramen and eggs, and not much else. Moved several times, had a series of bad roommates. Got involved with a bad person, married him. Car got stolen. Moved across the country. Multiple part time jobs, so I joined the Army - a year of disruption, then a year of overt abuse (started nursing prerequisites - and kept a 4.0 GPA) before I escaped. Within a month - sent to Gulf War I. Strangely, that 6 months were a kind of rest, no decisions to make, nothing I could do - except fall in love with D. Every quarter of nursing school beat me up, still scraping financial bottom every month. Then working in a nursing home, until I got the OR job.

The structure and protocols, back-up and support systems, reassured me. It hurt every day, as I painstakingly gathered up every wit and forced myself to learn and memorize. Then D smashed his elbow, and I tried to be a good nurse for him as well. But I was on solid ground in a way I'd never experienced before. Even the move to Boston, which upended my assumptions nicely, couldn't touch that sense of stability.

I remember when I saw my life only as a series of crises, each one triggering the next, lost and frantic. Wondering how to find respite, and crashing into another obstacle. Finding D meant having a good boat, and the OR first year rapids flowed toward a deep, slow river of a living wage and mastery.

I don't think it's age, either. Every life has roils and breakthroughs and sticking points, in no particular order. A wonderful childhood and a peaceful early adulthood can be overthrown into chaos, illness, grief. There are no scripts, no maps.

Life, what a mess.


Beats the alternatives.