gloss

he: hey, so...remember the budget?
me: yeah, i know. well i had to buy those fresh flowers and the lip gloss and that book and that bottle of limoncello...because my patient died.
he: ....and she left you some money? and, just curious...lip gloss?

(insert giant sigh here) dear, i don't write the facts, i just report them. you're just going to have to trust me on this one. yes, lip gloss...which part of mourning did you not understand? jeesh....

they should have support groups for spouses of onc nurses...with an emphasis on finances. i know some banks/debit cards will automatically sort your purchases for you - detailing at the end of the month how much you spent on groceries, entertainment, gas, etc. in my case, even more sensitive software would be able to detect yet another layer of purchases - the screw it (SI) category. given the day and the events that unfolded, the SI purchase might be in the 'life is beautiful, life is good, carpe diem, i'm going to buy something beautiful for everyone i love because i can and the hills are alive with the'...well, you get it. another day, or later that same day, the SI purchase might take the form of 'everyone around me is grieving and sad and trying to make the most of their last days with their loved ones, why the hell am i worried about whether i can afford the $4 matzo ball soup.' of course i can and i'm thinking a giant cauldron of it up in the treatment area might just improve everyone's day.

this all reminds me of those night shifts...you know the kind. you're only halfway through and you can't remember a time in your life when you've heard or seen or smelled anything worse - and you start fantasizing about all the things you're going to do for yourself if you make it through this shift. because you deserve it. because you need something to look forward to. because it all sucks so very, very much. you start planning out the hot yoga class that will the burn the whole memory of this night out of you, the massage that will make your body yours again, the coffee with friends that will restore your spirit. somehow when 8am arrives and you reach your car all of your grand plans get translated into an egg mcmuffin via the drive-thru. and surprisingly, it actually makes you feel better. i don't want to know what they put in those.

i believe most of us have visceral and/or primal reactions to endless exposure to other people's grief and suffering. it will manifest subtlety, differently in everyone, but it's what sets us apart as a profession. it moulds our personalities, and affects our relationships and alters how we process all of the input we receive each day. and nothing against real therapy, from which most of us could benefit i'm sure, but sometimes it's the small therapies in life - the gentle tending to the soul that only a good book can provide, the steaming cup of tea that restores your faith, the matzo ball the size of a softball floating in some nectar-of-the-gods broth, the new facial cream that makes you feel dewey instead of old - these are the soothing balms on the emotional micro-tears we all face every day.

so go enjoy that purchase...carpe/screwe diem...or whatever. you deserve it : )