Thursday, July 9, 2015

Final Thoughts

     I know I've been saying this for days now, but I still can't believe we leave tomorrow. It really does feel like I was sitting at the kitchen table with my mom expressing how five weeks was a long time, and how she replied saying I'd be back in the same spot sooner than I could think. I always forget how quickly time flies. We're already in the seventh month of 2015, I'm three months away from turning 22, and one year away from completing my undergraduate degree. I remember being younger, probably around 7 or 8, telling my parents that by the time I graduated college, I'd have my life figured out, know where I was going to live, who I was going to marry, what I was going to look like, who my friends would be. I'm a year from graduating and I can barely decide what I want to eat for the day. But my time here in Peru has taught me that everything will work itself out when it's supposed to, and for now, I should just live.
     This morning, I ended my clinical assignments at the same place I started. The nursing home was bustling with energy. Molly and I changed and cleaned a wound on a male resident and then went over to the women's section. They knew that this was our final day of clinical so they were weepy when we got there. I sincerely believed that saying goodbye to patients would be easy when I began my time here in Piura. I thought that the difference of language and the short amount of time would prevent me from forming connections with people. I was adamant that I wouldn't learn anything personal from them. However, just with the women in the nursing home, I've learned the reasons behind why one of them never married, why one woman trusts only one other resident, and how one woman is waiting for the day she gets healthy enough to return to Ecuador.
     As we said goodbye to the women today, tears formed in my eyes from the sight of their compassion and love for us Marquette Nurses. We only worked with them for four weeks and they were saddened to see us leave. It made me think about how they've left a mark on who I am as a person. They've helped me learn to look past the exterior, and see through to who they are, why they are the way they are, and who they wanted to be.
     Molly, Andrea (a Parish volunteer), and I went over to the hospital to pick up Erin and Kerry from the obstetric center before heading back. Kerry and Erin walked out with excited faces, talking about the birth they had seen and how it was a beautiful end to their clinical days here. When we all got back to the parish, we learned that a patient we had all worked with earlier had passed away the other day and it all seemed like a shock. We had all discussed how he was ready to go and waiting for the day he would start his next journey but to know he was truly gone was a concept we couldn't all really fathom. The ten of us have never lost a patient so it was with mixed feelings that we received the news.
     As nurses, we know that life and death comes with the territory but I think we all take for granted how precious life and health are. As hard as it is to lose patients, I hope I never become numb to it. I think that takes away from who that patient was. Life is so fleeting and I've seen the full spectrum while being here. From seeing babies enter the world and take their first breath, to seeing older men and women spend their last days on earth, sometimes surrounded by family, and other times alone, I've come to recognize that nursing is not always about the skills, dressing changes, medications, and vital signs, it's about being present with the person next to you, spending an extra five minutes with someone who has expressed being lonely, offering up a hug or a hand to hold onto when we see our patients getting overwhelmed. Nursing also means being an emotional outlet for someone who has always felt the need to withhold from expressing their feelings, listening to fears about leaving and starting a new, unprecedented journey, and letting people know that they are not alone in whatever they may be dealing with. The connections humans have to each other is something that continues to amaze me. Whether it be a simple smile, a kiss on the cheek, or the sign of peace at mass, I've learned that these are not actions to be taken for granted.
     I know that tomorrow will be a series of ups and downs in regards to emotions. I am so excited to experience the beauty of Machu Picchu, return home to my loved ones, and begin preparing for what the next school year holds, but I am so torn. I'm leaving people I've resonated with, people who have left marks on my heart, and people I have learned incredible lessons from. As I expressed my sadness to a loved one, I was told that I've "impacted their lives and left an indelible mark. That's better than always seeing someone". But I think about how much they've effected me and how although I've learned so much, knowing that I will not be seeing them again is incredibly difficult to deal with.
     Andrea told us today how her and her husband grew up in the same neighborhood and how she knew she loved him from an early age. He went to work in Argentina for 12 years and during that time, Andrea continued to live her life her in Peru but love him from afar. I thought about how she didn't really know when or if she would see him again but she said she waited because he made such an impact on her life that he was always with her, even though they were miles apart. I'd like to think that that's how I'll cope with not being with the people I've met here. There's always the possibility that I'll return, or they'll come to the States, but regardless of if we do, we know we enriched each other's lives and that that's what matters most; not seeing each other every day and taking for granted what we mean to each other. There are people we can't go weeks without seeing, and then there are those that are meant to pass into our lives for a moment, leave a mark, and then leave again. I don't know who those people will be, but I look forward to finding out. Leaving Peru, I know I will be more proactive in the relationships I have with others, I'll be sure to tell people I love them, and I'll allow myself to be moved by emotion. My time in Piura has taught me to be intentional with people and to show more compassion. Compassion doesn't make us weak, it makes us realize that we must be men and women for and with each other, in order to live out the lives that were planned for us.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Connections

      On Sunday, we began our final week in Piura. It's still difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that we're nearing our time here. It seems like I just woke up to catch my early morning flight to head down here. The days and weeks have absolutely flown by. I'm ready to go home to my friends and family, but I'm not at all ready or willing to leave the people I've met, or the memories I've made. We've been really busy the last few days working late into the night to perfect our projects, only to get up early to start our clinical days. Over the past few days, it's been hard to find time to sit and think but in the moments we drive over to our sites or before mass begins, I think we've all been reflecting on our time here.
     Before I left the States, I expressed my doubt to my family and friends about if studying abroad would really help me learn about myself, nursing, and others. I was hesitant to leave. I talked to my dad a lot about it and he reminded me that although I had seen a third world country and seen poverty, I hadn't worked within its walls. I had not experienced what it means to be truly compassionate. He told me I had to be immersed into something that was completely unnatural to me in order to understand the healthcare I take for granted back home and to comprehend how the people who are less fortunate get by, so that I can learn how to become a better person for others.
     I remember being flustered before I left the States. I had packing to get done, people to call, flights to double check, emails to send. The list went on and on. Even when I landed here, I felt like I wouldn't be able to completely live in the moment because there's always something else left to do on our lists, right? But what I've learned here is the importance of being truly present. There's a beauty in living simply. During my time here, I've realized who's important to me, what issues are worth fighting for, and how to be happy with what I have because regardless of what I have, the most important is that I am able to love and know that I am loved.
     The people here are so compassionate. They welcome all of us into their homes, they share their stories with complete strangers, and ask us to do the same. I've learned that simply sitting besides someone can make a difference. Many of the people we visit for clinical are widowed and living on their own. Along with any physical ailments they might have, they always say that they're lonely, that they miss their life partner.
     My dad told me once that people are inherently wired to find a person or a group of people to belong to. That's why we get married, or have children, or make friends. We create and maintain connections with others so that at the end of our lives, someone knows what our daily struggles and accomplishments were. Someone is there to validate who we were, what we did, how we lived. The people in Piura taught me that although someone is old and can no longer walk or talk, they still lived a life with connections. They did things for others and for themselves in order to be happy. They lived just as I am. My time here has taught me to respect the life stories I will never know but have the privilege to protect near the end of life.
     With all of the older people I have cared for while being here, I've seen a loved one in their eyes. At first I was sad, knowing that eventually I'll be saying goodbye to the people I've come to love and that people will be doing the same to me one day. But then I understood why living in the present is so necessary. If we're always thinking about the future and crossing off to do lists, we never really live for now. We live for later, and eventually later catches up to us and we look back and wonder where our gift of life went.
     The people in Piura taught me what it means to live and to let life change us in order to become better. Better for the people around us, for ourselves, and for the people we'll never meet, but whom will be effected by how we treat others. Piura taught me that in whatever I do, I must be present and give it my all because if I don't, I'm not being respectful to those who are. Peru taught me that life is not a competition, but a journey through which we should meet people in order to learn as well as teach. The Peruvians helped me realize that I have the ability to choose to be positive or negative. They helped me understand that compassion does not know boundaries. They helped me realize that home is what you need it to be and that human connections are what make life worth living.

Friday, July 3, 2015

Update!

     It's been a few days since the last post! My apologies! The wifi was out for the parish as well as the surrounding community for a day and we've been a bit bogged down with clinical work, our final project, and parish activities! The last few days have been eye opening and motivating. We've been working on our aggregate population projects, trying to stay ahead of the game but it was a bit hard finding research articles when the internet was out. It's also been a battle with the other people here to share the wifi but we've had a pretty steady connection all day so we've really begun to buckle down and get our work started.
     I worked at the nursing home a few times this week and I haven't been there since my first clinical day down here. The residents remembered who I was and asked why I had been away for so long. It's always interesting to work at the nursing home, especially because of the very apparent hierarchies and theatrics. The women there should have a show dedicated just to them, honestly. I think it would be a great hit with tons of laughs. The first day I was there this week, there was a fiesta going on for them so we helped bring the patients to and from their rooms and wings and danced with them. It was a sight to see! The old men really like to dance and grasped at every opportunity to show off their dance moves.
     I also worked at hospice earlier this week. It was hard for the girls who worked there this week because one of the patients there has been on a steady decline. It's been somewhat overwhelming to see an absolute circle of life by working at pro-vida, OB, and the surgical center, seeing babies before they're born and watching them enter the world, while also working with people who are closer to the end of their days. We've all really been challenged to be better nurses since we've started our clinical days here. Although our Spanish may not always be perfect, I've realized that the language of caring is universal and that a smile or a hand hold can go a long way. Working along side the residents at hospice, I've gotten a better understanding of how precious life is and how it is truly a gift.
     Since all of us are missing the 4th back home, the local school here put on an assembly dedicated solely to our Independence Day. There were dances and songs and it made me miss home while also making me happy I was in Peru. When we got to the parish, they had prepared hamburgers, fries, and apple pie for us and it was a great reminder of home. My dad texted me earlier today saying the family was seeing fireworks today. It's kind of weird not being home for the 4th, especially because it's the first one I'm not with my family for. We also attended a fiesta yesterday via another church that had a small fireworks show. It was a great way to celebrate away from home!
     I can't believe we only have one week left in Piura and another in Cusco before heading back home to the States. The days have been packed to the brim with work but they've also been flying by. I can't say I'm ready to go yet. I know I'll miss everyone I've met and been touched by. The people here are incredibly special and welcoming and I know it's going to be a sad goodbye in a week.
                                       
                                          Here's a picture of the family Marquette sponsors

                                  Catherine and I with a group of girls we played soccer with

                                                The assembly crowd for the Fourth of July