Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Keeper of Bad Days

{I have very limited internet access for the next several days so I am unable to do a lot of posting or commenting on your posts.  I will be back soon, but until then, I hope you enjoy one of my older posts.  It helps explain why we need a vacation!}

It’s getting late and I am tired. My husband’s shift in the Emergency Department ended a couple hours ago and I expected him long before now. A day off school means the children have had all day to chip away at my patience and sanity; I’ve counted down for the moment I get a break, or at least acknowledgment from someone who doesn’t call me Mom. Frustration builds as minutes multiply and by the time the front door opens, I’ve had the argument a thousand times in my mind: “What have you been doing?” or perhaps “You knew the kids were home today, how could you be so inconsiderate?“ maybe even a “Don’t you even care how difficult my days can be?”

But as he walks in, I see his troubled face and I swallow the angry words already half formed in my mouth. Instead I replace them with, “How was your day?” The world has weighed so heavily on him today, I worry the couch frame may break as he collapses into it. As the children crawl and chatter over him, he tells me about his day. There was an attempted suicide and his failed effort to reverse what was done. Followed by another attempt, half successful, leaving a body alive, a brain dead and a face half missing. He must call far away relatives to offer terrible choices: permanent life support or organ donation. Finally he sees an irritated family waiting for simple test results for their mildly ill child.

“They had waited a long time and I didn’t want them to be lost in the shift change, so I stayed till the results came back. By that time the hospital was nearly ready to take the man up for organ harvest so I stayed with him and, as I was leaving, his grieving sister called desperate she had made the wrong choice. I comforted her the best I could.”

As I listen to his day I remember something his colleague once told me, “I never say I’m having a bad day. I’ve seen thousands of truly bad days and to call mine bad would be disrespectful.” I see a glimpse of those bad days now reflected in my husband’s tired eyes. I can’t even begin to understand the memories my husband owns: the child he spent a fruitless extra hour trying to revive only to face notifying her still hopeful mother, telling a young father of three his wife’s stroke has left him a widow, child abuse leading to 3rd degree burns.

My husband sees bad days every day. He sees some of the worst humanity has to offer: suicides, assaults, attempted murders, child abuse. He also sees everyone’s worst nightmares: severed limbs, car accidents, strokes, psychological breaks, sudden and unexpected deaths mixed with long mourned ones. All this is a part of my husband’s existence.

I can imagine him, despite a long and difficult day, consoling a stranger over the phone, with the image of her brother’s wounds still fresh in his mind. I see him reluctant to leave that man alone his last minutes of life. Still willing to go the extra mile for a family visibly frustrated with their long wait and unaware its unfortunate reason. I see him hugging our children tighter and longer than normal, patient despite his exhaustion. He tells me he is sorry to come home so late, but I know that’s a lie. He doesn’t regret his actions today. As I see him, compassionate and kind despite the constant barrage of tragedy, I suddenly realize I’m not sorry for it either.

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20 comments:

  1. This post really resonated with me. My husband is a paramedic. I know he sees awful things. But I don't know if these really effect him. He always tells me he's fine and he seems OK.

    I guess as a social worker, I see crappy things to, but I have to compartmentalize those things, from my own life, or I wouldn't be able to go a day witout crying.

    I'm excited to see you in a couple of days!

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  2. Your husband is an amazingan. To deal with that day in and day out takes a very special person. I don't think that I could do it. I will keep your post mind the next time I'm overwhelmed.

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  3. thank you for sharing this today.
    truly it puts whatever woes I have been facing into proper perspective.
    Blessings to your sweet husband and those he serves.

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  4. Wow, wow, wow. I literally need to bookmark this post to read on my "bad" days, because they come nothing CLOSE to this.

    What a great man you have there, and we are so grateful for good doctors like him in the world.

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  5. Perspective makes all the difference, doesn't it? I really don't have anything to complain about.

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  6. what an amazing bit of perspective that gives us all... this is one of those posts that the world would be a better place if everyone understood what you are sharing. really.

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  7. Poor Peter, but what a good man.

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  8. My husband has spent the summer working in a federal criminal court. We have just begun to glimpse the underside of most people's "bad days". I cannot imagine what working in an emergency department must do. The toll it takes.

    The world needs men who can behave as your husband did and treat those emergencies with the care and respect they need and deserve. Your husband has proven his strength.

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  9. Thank you--this puts my bad days in perspective. And thank you to your husband for doing his best to help others with their bad days.

    Looking forward to meeting you tonight!

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  10. I've been out of town and I'm playing catchup with my favorite blogs. So glad I didn't miss this one. Wonderful post.

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  11. What a great tribute to your husband and, in turn, your marriage. I can't even imagine those burdens...

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  12. Definitely makes me think twice when I'm about to say I had a bad day. I can say though, I would rather continue with my version of a bad day, than ever have any of what your poor husband has to deal with. You are so wonderful for being so understanding too!

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  13. I love to read your blog post, you really inspired me day buy day. Thank you.

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  14. Thank you for running this post, Charlotte. I'd never read it before and it was so lovely and important to read. " That part about the colleague who never says he has a bad day because he's seen so many - that is really moving. Thanks for reminding me of what's important.

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  15. It was really informative and useful. You are blessed to have that guy. Great post! I will keep visiting here. Thanks for sharing.

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  16. I read this before but I couldn't leave a comment then; too many tears. Today, my second time reading it I still cannot stop the tears. What an amazing person he is, and what an amazing person you are to be able to handle all that you do with patience and grace. I admire you so much more than I can tell you.

    p.s. I miss you Miss Charlotte. I will be happy when you get back from your vacation. Although, I know you need it so take your time!

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  17. Charlotte, that brought tears to my eyes. Good for your husband. I can't imagine what that's like. And good for you for being so supportive and mature. I admire you both. I'm glad he is there for those people. And I'm glad you're there for him.

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  18. I don't know how I missed this..but it was such a wonderful read. You tugged at my heart with your words...and I am so grateful to your husband for what he does..and all those like him.

    I hope you had/are having? - a wonderful break!

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  19. My husband in an IT guy for a group of doctors and even seeing the way it affects him to see the way it affects his doctors when they have to deliver the worst news (a lot of cancer in their firled), well, it's so hard to see, and yes, it really does put our hard days into perspective...

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