I have a new friend living with me. He gets to stay in my office on my desk. I’m sure that he will get on famously with Henrietta, Pickett, and Dobby. His brother, Gerald, used to live with us a lot of years ago. My wife picked Gerald up a couple days before we were married. That guy lived a lot of years and grew to about 8’! Eventually, though, he became compost. Cycle of life and all that. We haven’t named this one just yet. Maybe Gerald II, esq. That would be fun!
He, like Gerald before him, came to live with us at a momentous moment. Gerald was our first almost 47 years ago. (It doesn’t seem nearly that long. Besides, I can’t be that old!) This occasion is my wife’s birthday and her retirement. She is hanging up her stethoscope after 25 years in a neo-natal intensive care unit at one of our local hospitals. Twenty-five years of caring for the sickest and frailest of all humans. Many of these kids enter our world weighing in at a whopping 2 pounds! Some never get to go home.
Working in the NICU takes a special kind of person. The person must be focused and engaged all of the time. They have to be tender and hard at the same time. Not only to these nurses need to care for their young charges, they have to balance the fine line of dealing with doctors who don’t know half what they think they know. In these cases they truly have to be the patients’ advocate. Then there is the PR work that is necessary when talking to parents and other family. At some hospitals the parents are in no condition to care for their child. Nurses need to advocate for these children, also. Sometimes it’s hard to talk to a mother who will not get custody of her baby.
The hours on their feet, the all too infrequent trips to the lav, and many missed meals are only the physical stresses these folks need to manage. There are the hospital rules and policies that are really not employee friendly. Many times concern over this or that policy adds stress to stress. It’s truly no wonder many of these nursing professionals suffer physical injury and illness. Such is the role they choose to play. Oh, and for my wife, she has had to put up with me. No easy task.
I know that I painted this in rather stark terms. There are always the rewards of this work. When the child responds to treatment and begins to flourish. I have seen the pictures of children that my wife cared for, sometimes for months, who finally went home. The grateful mothers have sent pictures to my wife as these children turn 1, 2, or 5 years old. They are growing and learning and loving. This is the payoff for all of the difficulties that the doctors and nurses, respiratory therapists, social workers, and all of the staff receive.
And, it is enough.
So, after all of these years I say, “Happy Birthday!” and “Yay, You! It’s time to retire!”