Hope Dies Hard

 There are times when I'm brought back in my imagination to that place in the desert, the military base which I've constructed from actual photos. I can only imagine what it actually looked like to him. The photos are very few and limited in what they show. Day by day for about 6 months I imagined him waking and going to sleep. I tried to think about what his day looked like, although I had no idea. I read several books on military chaplains on deployment. I read about their duties, their locations, the challenges they faced and the things they did. I tried to picture him in many of these activities. Mostly, I saw him listening to service members share their struggles and he in turn giving counsel, guidance, comfort, and praying with them. That was not hard to imagine.

It baffles me to this day, totally mystifies me, as to why I cared so much. Why was I so curious? Why do those memories drift across my consciousness now that I know there was another woman who was privy to all that information? There was someone who regularly face timed him and actually saw his room and the area that he lived in. She spoke to him regularly and heard about his daily activities and thoughts about such things. When I found out she existed and has been in a relationship with him during his deployment I wrestled with envy and disappointment that I had not been the one in that position. 

As I struggled with tears and heart anguish over this new revelation, I heard God quietly push into my thinking, ever so gently and matter-of-fact, "You didn't miss out on anything."  I'm not exactly sure what to make out of that revelation. But I trust God and I know he knows best for me.

Still, I have this haunting feeling that I left a part of myself in that desert, my hopes and anticipation, my desire for reuniting, left drifting like sand that gets carried away when the wind whips up, off into the distance. And yet, I recall this experience many, many years ago (https://halfdozengirls.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-vacationed-in-hell-and-lived-to-tell.html). 

God is with me and he finds me, faithfully and mercifully, again and again. I am overcome by gratitude.

Hope dies hard, but God excels in hard.

Notable Notes

 

     He asked me, again, to meet him in his room because he needed "to talk." Bipolar, mixed phase sliding toward the more depressive side, with notable paranoia. The other nurses and I had animated conversations about his constant, attention-seeking paranoid delusions as being just that - attention seeking and thus, behavioral in nature. I on the other hand, having taken care of him for several days throughout the week, noted the genuine fear in the paranoid delusions. "When I was in the ER, they gave me IV fluids and I think they poisoned me....When I was sleeping at the hospital before I came to this one, I think I got raped. My butt hurts....I got raped, I know it. I think I have HIV. I want an HIV test.....I have a headache, I think I have a brain tumor. I want a CT scan. Call the doctor NOW-I need an Xray of my head!" And on and on the delusions went. I patiently attempted to address each one and, if need be, contact the doctor to see if further testing might be warranted, or a possible medication change, or a complete set of vitals, or....Oh, I'm exhausted just remembering this patient!

     And then, this request:

"I want to see your notes."

"You can't see my notes. They are mine. Why do you want to see them?"

"I just want to see them. I want to see my medical records and the doctor's notes. I want to see what people are saying about me."

"You can't see my notes or the doctor's notes. You can see some of your medical record on your iPad app the hospital provides, but it is limited in the information. It won't have the notes."

"Well, then, I want to see your notes."

"Why do you want to see my notes?"

"Because I want to see what you're saying about me. I don't think you like me."

"Why do you think I don't like you?"

"I don't know - it's just a vibe I get."

"Have I done something to indicate that I don't like you? I have made a lot of effort these past few days to answer your questions, spend time talking to you and helping you in any way I can."

"Well, I just don't think you like me."

"What I don't like is being told that I don't like you when I have done nothing to indicate that I don't like you and many things to indicate that I care about you and want to help you have a good day and get better."

"Well, I guess I'm just treating you like I treat my mom."

"Ok. I can understand that. Do you want to know what my notes say? They say that you are having paranoid delusions, disorganized thought processes and that you are easily overwhelmed and slow to process information."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that's accurate."

END of conversation. Reality orientation can be SO effective.

Phew!

*All descriptions of any identifiable data of each patient have been drastically altered to comply with HIPAA laws. If you think I'm referring to you or someone you know, you would be completely wrong.