If you’re new-ish to my blog, or haven’t read that far back, I’m in school to become a Practical Nurse.
This involves working with people who might die. Just in case you didn’t know.
As an LPN the primary areas we work in are Long Term Care, Palliative Care, Post-Natal Maternity and Med-Surge.
2 of those 3 involve the likelyhood that someone will die.
So we need to know how to handle that, how to manage that, how to be a part of that.
Enter Hospice Training.
It started at 9am. Tears started about the same time. I brought Bailey’s for my coffee. Drank it all. Cried for 3 freaking hours. Still teary.
But yeah. Lets talk about death. Dying. The dying bill of rights. Grief. Mourning. Bereavement.
Lets do this all in a class.
And lets watch Jane fucking break down over and over and over and over.
Other people cried. In parts.
I cried the whole time. And after. And honestly if someone were to look at me sideways I’d probably start crying again.
But yeah. It was like having a wound…and someone sticking their finger in it and twisting it around so that they could say “HEY! This is how it HURTS. Now you KNOW how it feels!!”
And fuck you again.
But I will have a bit of a better idea how to help people through the process when it’s time. And hopefully, I will be able to bring an empathy to the dance floor that another wouldn’t have had.
But fuck me. I haven’t cried that much for a very long time.
After class? I went and drank. Had some serious laughs. Had a good time.
But I still want to cry. A lot. Because that class brought up SO much emotion.
Fuck I miss him.