Take Back
I was sitting in my room last night thinking about a guy who is coming in today to the prosthetics side to have some work done on his 'legs'. I've written about him before, but his story still stays with me: the incredible power and calm he portrays is rather mesmerizing.
Quite a few months ago, Casey* was driving with some friends down in the southern half of the province where he ran into a bit of trouble. Despite hitting complications in the car, it ended up rolling, bursting into flame and two of the four people in the vehicle died.
The two surviving victems were rushed to hospital where they were assessed to have incredibly severe 3rd degree burns, broken bones and predictably enough, rather broken spirits... after all, those in the car with them had been their good friends. In the case of Casey, both legs had to be amputated above the knee.
I've written about this boy's spirit, but it's odd isn't it? That as soon as he was done in the news, everyone seemed to forget about him.
What kind of a situation have we set people up for? We make a big hoo-haw about how we need to love each other and look out for our fellow people... the news makes note of how horribly critical this person's accident was, does an ugly and brief follow up, but doesn't stay to check on the person every once in a while.
Has Casey seen anyone from the news since then? Probably not. I wonder how it must feel to sit down at 6 or even 11 o'clock, watch the people reporting the weather and the politics and the current economic crisis, knowing that you were on that very program nearly a year ago; knowing that you were so very near death that the story was important enough to be 'big news'?
I've come to the conclusion that I am ever so slightly losing faith in humanity. We need to exercise our compassion and love for others when they're in the 'repair' stages of their lives, not just the 'critical care'... just think about the peace and reassurance that we can offer to others once the media has trickled off... once their friends stop brining chocolates and flowers and cute little 'Get Well Soon!' cards with the cartoon animals on the front.
Casey is still dealing with phantom pains, the realization that he will never be able to drive, to squelch mud through his toes, burry his feet in the sand and feel the varying levels of temperature over his exposed skin.
Casey also doesn't realize that although we have said maybe 5 words to each other (3 of which being the same greeting of 'hello!') that he has impacted my life in a way that I don't think I'll ever be able to match. I pray I wont forget it as it is really beautiful the life lessons you learn from surviving soldiers and I pray that he will be such an incredible testament to those in his future.
Quite a few months ago, Casey* was driving with some friends down in the southern half of the province where he ran into a bit of trouble. Despite hitting complications in the car, it ended up rolling, bursting into flame and two of the four people in the vehicle died.
The two surviving victems were rushed to hospital where they were assessed to have incredibly severe 3rd degree burns, broken bones and predictably enough, rather broken spirits... after all, those in the car with them had been their good friends. In the case of Casey, both legs had to be amputated above the knee.
I've written about this boy's spirit, but it's odd isn't it? That as soon as he was done in the news, everyone seemed to forget about him.
What kind of a situation have we set people up for? We make a big hoo-haw about how we need to love each other and look out for our fellow people... the news makes note of how horribly critical this person's accident was, does an ugly and brief follow up, but doesn't stay to check on the person every once in a while.
Has Casey seen anyone from the news since then? Probably not. I wonder how it must feel to sit down at 6 or even 11 o'clock, watch the people reporting the weather and the politics and the current economic crisis, knowing that you were on that very program nearly a year ago; knowing that you were so very near death that the story was important enough to be 'big news'?
I've come to the conclusion that I am ever so slightly losing faith in humanity. We need to exercise our compassion and love for others when they're in the 'repair' stages of their lives, not just the 'critical care'... just think about the peace and reassurance that we can offer to others once the media has trickled off... once their friends stop brining chocolates and flowers and cute little 'Get Well Soon!' cards with the cartoon animals on the front.
Casey is still dealing with phantom pains, the realization that he will never be able to drive, to squelch mud through his toes, burry his feet in the sand and feel the varying levels of temperature over his exposed skin.
Casey also doesn't realize that although we have said maybe 5 words to each other (3 of which being the same greeting of 'hello!') that he has impacted my life in a way that I don't think I'll ever be able to match. I pray I wont forget it as it is really beautiful the life lessons you learn from surviving soldiers and I pray that he will be such an incredible testament to those in his future.
*Casey is indeed an alias
This is a great post. Wow. I love how you've got such a big heart to help someone get back up, not just pushing them up and leaving them, but walking through every step with them. You're not just there physically for these people, but emotionally as well, and that is an amazing gift. This gift came from God, and quite obviously long before you started nursing. I think you'll be a really good nurse.
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