|Crossroads: Image from my|
I had called for a meeting to discuss Mr. S's code status with his wife and the rest of the team. Right when she walked in, I detected moisture around her eyes. But it was difficult to tell if she had been crying. She's a strong and well-composed women. We all knew what needed to be done. It's just about finally allowing the tongue to spew the words trapped in the heart.
Mr. S is still not eating. . No artificial nutrition. The drugs are not helping. "What would he want?"
Mrs. S is also a realistic woman. And brave. That morning she was taking the first step of a long journey of "letting go..." And now she was crying right infront of me.
"You are such an amazing wife." She nodded as she wiped her brown eyes. I rubbed her back. I learned this technique from observing my nurse coworkers. Sometimes a hug is just plain awkward when the subject of discussion is painful.... A back rub is a good compromise...but it always seems fake.
I need my own technique.
I didn't want to write about Mr. S. again or anything else work related for that matter.. But my two worlds always clash...and then you ask what is art? And what is life?
"Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life" - Oscar Wilde