I suppose it's an occupational hazard since I work with a lot of sick people nearing the end of life. My role is to assist and educate in mobility safety and function. I love my job because it makes a difference and truly helps people. But some days the outlook seems so bleak. I see people fighting for their lives, trying to be optimistic, and I know in my heart they're on their way out of this world. I know that they'll go through days, weeks, months of scans and surgical recovery and painful treatments and debilitating nausea and neuropathy, often just to buy a little more time here. I am sympathetic.
Last week I worked with 3 hospice cancer patients, but the one that threw me over the edge was a lady I treated 2 years ago. After going through all the icky cancer stuff back then, essentially on her own because she has no support system, she's back. The cancer they thought was eliminated has metasticized. She's now recovering from the abdominal surgery my doctors are recommending I undergo (sooner rather than later). They're not sure what will be next for her. I assessed her abdominal strength, incision healing, scar mobility and postural stability appropriately, but all I could think about was IDon'tWantToDoThis. Again.
Sometimes empathy is harder than sympathy.
I. Hate. Cancer.
1 comment:
I share your thought. My elder brother died of cancer 2 years ago. I wish I can die of a heart attack before I am too old or have cancer.
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