I need to vent.
This journey has taught me quite a bit a patience thus far. I've gotten better handling getting yelled at, or at receiving the results of a families' pent up anger in either English or Spanish or both. Somewhat better at handling the sensitive, anxious patient requiring extensive tender hand-holding and who will cry at the drop of a hat. Or those in denial as well, to just name a few. However, there are some areas that plague me continually, as my patience is seemingly used up leaving the patience barrel dry. One of those areas is pain, to which I alluded to in the second half of [this post] from a year ago.
And then another is shameless immaturity. When a grown individual lays curled up in fetal position, crying and half ready to throw a temper tantrum, and then when asked about it, does nothing but whine; my pupils dilate and my nostrils flare. (not really, just metaphorically). As I attempted to have yet another conversation with him for the second night in a row I struggled with one idea. Rapidly trying to discern if it was or was not politically correct to simply outright call my patient a 'baby' and ask him to 'act his age'/'be a man'?
I mean, if you are man enough to go out and get yourself stabbed, then you had better be man enough to deal with the consequences. Especially... when the stab didn't actually hit anything!!!
The nurses tried to hide their smirks at seeing me all worked up. But honestly, my desire to help someone who refuses to help them self = next to zero. Right there with my patience level.
Needless to say, I've still got quite a bit of patience to manifest in my life yet before this journey is over. Might as well start by loving the shamelessly immature.
Much Love.
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