Day 27

When I went to pick up the 10-year old from my parents' house, my mom told me she had been cleaning out her sewing room and found some of my things I had brought over to mend. They had been there a while so she wanted to know if I still wanted/needed them. She looked hesitantly at me as I reached in the bag and pulled out several scrub tops embroidered with the symbol of one of the hospitals I have worked for in the past.

In 1999, I joined a team of amazing people who dedicated themselves to taking care of people with heart disease in the Dayton area. I worked my way from step-down nurse to critical care nurse, then charge nurse, and eventually found myself in the manager's office wondering what in the hell I had gotten myself into. But I was happy. I enjoyed the work that I did, and the people I did the work with.

Don't get me wrong- it wasn't perfect. No place is.  But I went to work every day thinking I would be there until I retired, never thinking that it would ever be possible for that not to transpire. Then one day, 10 years after I first stepped through the doors, I was told that my beloved workplace had been bought by another hospital, and that we were closing our doors.

I am not too proud to say that I was absolutely devastated. Emotionally, psychologically, even physically. I was so attached to the people I worked with and the work that we did, I literally could not imagine being torn apart from them or doing anything else. I cried more than I have at any other time of my life. I drank more than I had any other time in my life. I said and thought mean and hateful things. It was the first thing in my head when I woke up and the last before I fell asleep.

In nursing school, they teach us that people work through grief and major life changes in a series of 5 stages known as DABDA-

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

 As a nurse, I have seen this countless times, as people learn of a new diagnosis or have a loved one die unexpectedly. But when someone told me that what I was feeling was normal and a part of the grieving process, my first reaction was, "Grieving process?! That's stupid- nobody died, for goodness sake". Huh. Can you say Denial?

It is now about 5 years later. 5 years. And that one symbol being flashed unexpectantly in my face can still bring back instant memories and emotions. But, I am happy to say that the emotion I landed on this time was happiness. I picked up the scrub top, looked at my mom and smiled. "What a great place that was".

 Acceptance. Finally. Because believe you me, I went through every stage- some of them more than once. And I know now that going through that experience has not only taught me that sometimes bad things happen, but that when they do I can pick myself up and move forward. I'm sure so many people go through things like this. I didn't take that job expecting for the hospital to close. But there are a lot of people out there who have lost their jobs unexpectedly as well. And people don't get married expecting to get divorced. Parents don't have children expecting them to die before they do. People don't expect to get cancer when they are 40. But it happens.

Everyone moves through the grieving process at their own pace. But eventually, acceptance happens for most of us. Maybe that means looking at a logo on a scrub top and being able to smile. Maybe it means coming across something that reminds us of a loved one who has passed and we don't shed tears. Or maybe it means looking at a wedding picture with your kids and being able to tell them about how there were good times before the divorce.

So if you have been through the grieving process, take a moment to congratulate yourself. Cuz getting to that second "A" isn't easy. But chances are, you will be a stronger person at the end of it.

Today's picture represents the fact that there can be light at the end of even the darkest tunnel.