After a long and difficult summer at work, I am trying hard to catch up. Working far more than I wanted to was not a choice. Two nurses had left in spring to pursue their retirement. One nurse was pulled from the floor to assist the manager in her role. One of our nurses died suddenly and in expectantly.
I, like the remaining nurses, was left to "man the lifeboat.".
I declined a full-time position. I have neither the energy or ambition anymore. Having grandchildren changed my world. What spare time I have, I want to spend with them...and when they are not available, I want to paint again.
My summer passed and all garden and preserving plans fell by the wayside and as things returned to "normal" at work, I played "catch up" at home.
Yesterday I struggled to make jelly in the few hours before my shift. All was going well...four burners sending steam upward...when my grandson arrived. I was worried by his business...darting too close to the busy stove. Papa came to our rescue, and I was able to finish the job, but without the usual satisfaction, and I experienced the same dissatisfaction I felt all too often at the end of a shift this summer.
Why do we nurses expect so much of ourselves? Would it not have been better to put down my ladle and pick up my grandson?
Time passes too quickly. Every soul that I have had the privilege to care for has lamented this fact.
So this post is dedicated to my grandbabies. Nana will try to do better!