Life happens. It happens a little differently for each of us. The idea is: you do things, you mess up, and you learn from it. Or something like that....
So, I was headed into the office this morning, just before lunch time, to turn in some paperwork. I had to stop in front of the elementary school, as the guy in front of me wasn't moving. Or signaling, or anything.
I couldn't tell if there was a small child in the crosswalk, so I sat behind him, patiently. Within about two to three minutes, four cars had lined up behind me, and the car in front was still not moving. I was on the phone (hands free, of course) with my boss and I needed to get going. She needed to talk to me and she was waiting for me. In the office. Downtown. Not here, behind the blue car.
Honk, honk....(not loud, just a tap on the horn, really)
Finally, a car on the side of the street pulled out and the blue car pulled into the spot. As I drove past him, we glared at each other. I didn't like waiting and he didn't like being honked at. Oh well. And then it happened: as I looked at his face, I made a judgment. He doesn't mind waiting because he doesn't have a job.
How do I know that? I don't. And that is what made me feel bad. I jumped to a conclusion, based on my irritation and my own view of things. And then, to make matters worse, I remembered when someone else did the same thing to me.
I was a new nurse, working on the night shift, 11P to 7A, on a med-surg unit. I had graduated from school, passed boards, moved with my family into a new house, and started a new job, all in just a few months' time. I was tired all the time, it seemed.
Staffing was different, back in those days. There were 3 or 4 nurses' aides, 1 or 2 LVNs, and usually just one, maybe two, RNs on duty for the night. The aides tended to the patients' basic needs, the LVNs gave all the oral medications and pain shots, and the RN “owned” the IV's. I used to go in to work early, just so I could get all my IV bottles and additive solutions ready before I had to start running around.
Literally, we ran. Sometimes, the aides would bring back some food for me, when they took their breaks. I learned, pretty quickly, to pack something to bring to work to eat. Breaks were impossible, for the RN. No one else on the floor could do anything with the IV's, and they weren't on pumps back then, so there was no warning when they decided to run out of fluid.
Changing IV bottles, restarting IV's, giving IV antibiotics “piggy back” to the IV, changing the tubing, and redressing the IV site was an all night affair. Plus, there was usually a patient receiving iced-saline lavage, or needing bladder irrigation after a prostate surgery, and those were RN-only functions, too.
So, when I got home in the mornings, I was very, very tired. I usually passed my husband, at the stoplight, as he headed for work. I would make sure the kids ate breakfast, and pack their lunches, then head off for bed and try to sleep.
It started almost as soon as we moved and the kids changed schools. The ten-in-the-morning phone calls. Even though I was trying to sleep, I had to leave the phone on, kids, you know. And so, when it rang, I answered quite sleepily: “hello?....”
And it was always the same person at the other end. The secretary in the office at school. Usually, it was Matthew who forgot his lunch. Once in awhile, it was Robbie. Always, it was me who had to get up, get dressed, and take it to school.
The secretary was obviously not pleased with me. How could I let my child go off to school without his lunch? And now, at ten in the morning, I'm still in bed? Gosh, what an awful mother! I know she tried to hide her disgust but I could feel it.
Finally, after about half a dozen phone calls over the course of a couple of weeks, she was exasperated with me. She asked me why I was still in bed in the middle of the morning. And I answered her question with a question of my own: “what were you doing at 2 o'clock this morning?” And she answered that she was “sleeping, of course!”
Ah, my chance, at last. “Well, I was not sleeping. I was giving IV medications to hospital patients.”
There was a silence that lasted a very long time. And then the floodgates opened: she couldn't apologize enough for what she had thought about me. And I told her it was okay. It was quite understandable, from her point of view, to think that everybody works days and sleeps nights.
She wouldn't let me come down to the school with Matthew's lunch money. She said she would take care of it and I could send it with Matthew the next day. I thanked her for her kindness and she apologized once again.
And so it was: Matthew forgot, she paid for his lunch, and I paid her back. For three years or so.
So, Guy in the Blue Car, wherever you are: I'm sorry for what I thought about you.
Of all people, I should know better....
No comments:
Post a Comment