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.
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