For the past four days I have been wandering down a path with twists and turns that have transported me from 1960 until this May, 2014. I have walked through a glass building and sat among others as we were waiting in private or separated sitting areas. I have walked along windowless glass paneled walls and looked down from my perch on the high level of the sixth floor. When I stood there long enough, I could imagine my view as that of a bird while perched from a lofty place.
When I entered this architectural marvel, my eyes followed the majestic rise of the walls to the ceilings. Enormous paintings of landscapes from the mountains to the sea adorned those giant walls. The elevators were concealed as if in a private domain and upon entering a lovely young voice announced "going up". When I pressed the button for the sixth floor, the lovely voice responded with "door closing." The elevator stopped on the sixth floor and the lovely voice announced "floor six"! The doors opened as I exited into yet another waiting area with conveniently placed private sitting areas. The signs along the long corridor guided me to my destination to see my husband who had a very long surgical procedure that day.
When I entered the Intensive Care Unit, I was, once again caught in the time travel. To this older retired registered nurse, who graduated from her nursing program in 1961, I came face to face with scientific wonders that I could not have imagined fifty-some years ago! During the next twenty-four hours I would be amazed at how teen-agers could become doctors in such a short while. When did it become permissible for nurses and doctors to wear jogging suits to work? What happened to the sturdy white nursing shoes that had been replaced by "tennis shoes". When did the nursing cap, that crowning halo, stop adorning the heads of the nurses who work tirelessly to earn the cap and the stripes?! When did doctors begin introducing themselves by their first name, even though the name tag clearly designated Dr. So & So?!
I watched as each person entered the room carrying their hand-held computers, and I observed the ease with which they approached the sophisticated equipment. One large screen that was situation above and over to the right of my husband, the patient, was equipped with detectors, bells and whistles for any slight movement made at any moment. I'm quite sure there were sensors for breathing, blood pressure, pulse, oxygen concentration and perhaps even one if my poor husband, forbid, expelled an unusual amount of gas!
I looked at those young doctors who so casually introduced themselves as friends and I remembered those before him who demanded the formal title of Dr. and intimidated you with their presence! I looked at those teen-age nurses in their scrubs and jogging shoes. Their hair worn any way they wanted it. I remembered myself as a young nurse in my white starchy uniform, white stockings, white shoes, with the little cap with the black stripes on my head. My hair was worn neatly and pulled away from my face.
Yes, I traveled back and forth between the two centuries and I found myself longing to once again be a young nurse. I wanted to have the freedom of casual dress and comfortable shoes. I dreamed of acceptance as who I was and not as the person I was expected to be. I imagined how free it must be to lose the intimidation imposed upon me as a young nurse.
I sat there and watched, and remembered, and dreamed. No, I could not imagine. The journey had taken too long. My time was behind me.
Another fifty years, another nurse, another time travel..................................................Come, Walk with me.
(Note) Written earlier, lost in my archives, discovered and decided to publish on 10/10/14)
Come Take A Walk With Me
Friday, October 10, 2014
A Mirror Image
Good to see you on my walk today! I know I have been away for a while. Seems I veered off the path and journeyed to a land full of white coats. Not for me, but for my husband who continues his journey of recovery that is now beginning the fifth year. You can read the entire story from my book, "Now We Have Hope", amazon.com, or you can follow my other blog, leekanipe.BlogSpot.com.
You know how you have been told that eventually we all begin to look like one of our parents? This is true! I doubted it for years, wondering how in the world I could look like my Mother, knowing that I looked more like my Father, or so I thought! I guess I needed another person to confirm my suspicion that maybe I had been wrong.
I happened to be asked to join a group of fellow classmates from long ago to plan a reunion for all graduates of our particular school. During one of those meetings, one of the committee members, a male upperclassman made the comment as we greeted each other. We had not seen each other in thirty years or so, and along with attending the same schools, we also grew up in the same small community. He was still quite handsome, and you can imagine my surprise when he exclaimed very loudly (so that all could hear), "Why, you look just like your Mother"!
Later, as I was driving home, I pondered his salutation, and decided that he must be getting a little dementia and probably had mistaken me for my older sister, who indeed does look like my Mother. I did see myself a little differently when I looked in the mirror that evening. As my Mother peered back at me, I dismissed it and decided I was tired and would look more like myself in the morning. As the weeks passed, I became more and more aware of my traits, passed genetically to me. I have her physique, her straight back, good posture, slender body, and her hands and her feet. Every time I prepare a meal, I see her in my kitchen, working along side as her hands stir the bowl, or pour the ingredients.
I am reminded of one of our last evenings dining out. She loved to go to the BBQ Barn in our neighborhood. Most of all, she enjoyed listening to the blue-grass music band after dinner. On that evening, as she was approaching eighty plus years old, she was feeling very well. Other than Alzhiemer's, she was in good physical condition. As we were relaxing at our table, watching the dancers and listening to the music, my Mother was approached by a gentleman who invited her to dance with him. Before I could tell her NO, she bounced from her chair and accepted his offer. I watched as she swayed to the rhythm of the slow music, and as she looked into his face and smiled from time to time. In that short period of time, I saw my Mother as a young girl who was enjoying the flirtation from this stranger.
After the dance, he escorted her to our table and thanked her for the dance. She smiled and told him she enjoyed it. A few minutes passed and the band began playing a fast tune. The gentleman returned and once again, Mom was up and going. I was amazed at her agility, even though I knew my older sister would kill me when we got home. Sure enough, when I shared our story, she declared no more nights out with the band because mom might fall and break her hip! Mom and I giggled together when we listened to her worry. After all, we had a wonderful evening together!
Glad I look like my Mom!
Enjoyed the walk! See you next time.....................Brenda
You know how you have been told that eventually we all begin to look like one of our parents? This is true! I doubted it for years, wondering how in the world I could look like my Mother, knowing that I looked more like my Father, or so I thought! I guess I needed another person to confirm my suspicion that maybe I had been wrong.
I happened to be asked to join a group of fellow classmates from long ago to plan a reunion for all graduates of our particular school. During one of those meetings, one of the committee members, a male upperclassman made the comment as we greeted each other. We had not seen each other in thirty years or so, and along with attending the same schools, we also grew up in the same small community. He was still quite handsome, and you can imagine my surprise when he exclaimed very loudly (so that all could hear), "Why, you look just like your Mother"!
Later, as I was driving home, I pondered his salutation, and decided that he must be getting a little dementia and probably had mistaken me for my older sister, who indeed does look like my Mother. I did see myself a little differently when I looked in the mirror that evening. As my Mother peered back at me, I dismissed it and decided I was tired and would look more like myself in the morning. As the weeks passed, I became more and more aware of my traits, passed genetically to me. I have her physique, her straight back, good posture, slender body, and her hands and her feet. Every time I prepare a meal, I see her in my kitchen, working along side as her hands stir the bowl, or pour the ingredients.
I am reminded of one of our last evenings dining out. She loved to go to the BBQ Barn in our neighborhood. Most of all, she enjoyed listening to the blue-grass music band after dinner. On that evening, as she was approaching eighty plus years old, she was feeling very well. Other than Alzhiemer's, she was in good physical condition. As we were relaxing at our table, watching the dancers and listening to the music, my Mother was approached by a gentleman who invited her to dance with him. Before I could tell her NO, she bounced from her chair and accepted his offer. I watched as she swayed to the rhythm of the slow music, and as she looked into his face and smiled from time to time. In that short period of time, I saw my Mother as a young girl who was enjoying the flirtation from this stranger.
After the dance, he escorted her to our table and thanked her for the dance. She smiled and told him she enjoyed it. A few minutes passed and the band began playing a fast tune. The gentleman returned and once again, Mom was up and going. I was amazed at her agility, even though I knew my older sister would kill me when we got home. Sure enough, when I shared our story, she declared no more nights out with the band because mom might fall and break her hip! Mom and I giggled together when we listened to her worry. After all, we had a wonderful evening together!
Glad I look like my Mom!
Enjoyed the walk! See you next time.....................Brenda
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