This isn't the way life should be

Every work day I walk the halls of a nursing home. I see lift chairs, call lights, chair alarms, wheel chairs, walkers, naps at all times of the day, and smiles. I hear confusion, frustration, incomprehensible babbling, the same story 100 times, cries for help, and laughter. I sense despair, resignation, loneliness, and deep love between spouses who have been married for over 50 years. For all the kindness shown, the good care given, the love demonstrated, the longer I'm there the more I want to rebel. This isn't the way life should be. No story should end this way.

Today is John's birthday, his 4th since he died 3 years ago. Some would say that he died doing what he loved -- farming, that he had a good life. And he did. We don't know what heaven is like but I can imagine Grandma baking him a chocolate cake with 44 candles and Aunt Suzanne organizing the party. Whatever his day was like today, it was great. But for the rest of us, even as we remember the twinkle in his eye, the welcome sight of his red pickup, the jokes he played, his faithfulness and love, we grieve. This isn't the way life should be.

Today Mom started chemo treatments. Two years ago she had endometrial cancer of the uterus. If you have to have cancer, that's a great place to have it since it's all contained in a sack that can be easily removed. According to the doctor, there was a 2% chance that it would reoccur. Just 3 short weeks ago, an x-ray discovered a nodule. Numerous tests later, the verdict came back that it is the same cancer and it is observable in two places. The doctor is confident that the cancer can be beaten but the the weapon is chemo which is short for all-the-side-effects-that-come-from-poisoning-yourself-for-18-weeks. Whatever the long range outcome, this isn't the way life should be.

I could broaden the scope to the lives of others I know, to the daily news, but for now there is plenty in my daily life that brings out a mixture of sadness and revolt. This isn't the way life should be. This isn't the way life was meant to be. This isn't the same world God looked at as he declared, "It is very good."

This morning I read,

All flesh is grass... the grass withers, the flower fades, 

but the word of the Lord endures forever. 

A couple of pages over it says,

...those who war against you shall be as nothing at all. 

For I, the Lord your God hold your right hand; 

it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you." 

Two chapters further is a favorite of our friend, Mary Pat, 

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. 

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; 

and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; 

when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you. 

For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. 

Paul prays that we would know the hope that God has called us to. My favorite definition of hope is a confident expectation of good. And the good God promises is to make all things new. He doesn't come to fix things. He will remake it all. 

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, 

for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away...

Behold the dwelling place of God is with man. 

He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, 

and God himself will be with them as their God. 

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, 

neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, 

for the former things have passed away.

We are not yet at the end of the story. It's more like the end of the first section of the first book in a trilogy. I need to remember there is so much more yet to come.

Odds and ends

I started working on a more substantive post, but am too tired and too distracted by football to do it justice so that will have to wait for another day. In the meantime here are a few odds and ends from the past few weeks.

For the first time in my life, I'm hearing my name and people aren't talking too/about me at all. There are several women named "Alice" in both nursing homes where I work. And even when I know staff a few rooms down aren't talking to me, my instinct is still to turn my head. I explained this to a man named Dave and he said he usually doesn't pay attention when he hears his name because most likely he is not the one being referred to. Maybe I'll eventually get used to it.

This week I was trying to get a gentleman to stand up and walk 20-30 feet. His response, "Why would I do that? I'm over 90 years old." I wondered what that had to do with anything but he seems perfectly content to let others do everything for him. I am trying to learn to motivate people to work a little in order to be as independent as possible. That motivating can be difficult, especially when some dementia is involved.

I've been "sick" in the last month more often than I've been in the previous 4 years. I only missed 2 days of work, but there has been quite a few days I've felt like I've been fighting something and by mid-afternoon I've been ready for a nap. It seems that most days, by the time I make supper I don't have much energy for anything else. Thankfully, I haven't gotten really sick, but hopefully I'm not assisting in passing around the stomach bug or influenza between the different residents I come into contact with. I wash my hands more times a day than I can count.

I actually got my laundry done this weekend without leaving a Kleenex in a pocket. That makes a big difference when the primary items are black scrubs.