Cathy

Cathy: "I love you.... oh, come here..."

me: "Ahh... hug."

Cathy: "I love you sweetheart. I love you so much. No, I really do. I love you."

33 years old. Full of confidence. She has gorgeous gorgeous hair. Dark, thick, curly locks. Big dark eyes. Very pretty face. She also has Cerebral Palsy. Her wheel chair is more a part of her body than her legs or arms. She can use her walker to do an incredibly ungraceful shuffle for about 7 feet. she can stand for about 3 minutes - with her walker. She has limited use of one hand and a bit more in the other.

She is an amazing person. She wants to change the world. She can be wonderful, and, like the rest of us, at times, she can be awful. Pat, her other Nurse, called in her 'Two Weeks Notice' yesterday. Cathy raged on her last night.

I serve Cathy with all the sincerity I can muster. I enjoy pretending like she is my professor. I want to learn all I can in the time I have with her. I ask many questions. And I give her the respect she so desperately wants. This tactic works well with most people. She opens right up and does a rather impressive job returning the favor- most of the time.

She tries. But my oh my - she can say the most aweful things to me. I'm more frustrated by our lack of progress that her words.

I know she is somewhat unaware of how she sounds, so I've been working with her on it. My goal is to teach and be taught in the midst of doing my job. I want to maximize my time with her.

When I am very hurt, I simply remind myself that I'm able to stand, walk, run, dance.... and not only that, but I have a tall, strong, beautiful body, a mind, and a great deal of passion... And much much more. So I transfer all of my bitterness to feelings of, "Hey! I'm the shis!" (I then remind myself that I more humble than anyone I've ever known. lol).

I give positive reinforcement with every effort she makes. I maintain consistency and I feel that she is learning from it. And as we become better acquainted, her respect for me and more importantly, all humanity, deepens. As it did today.

This morning she said, "I'm so happy that you are enlightened. No one understands. Every one else is ignorant to what I go through."

I wanted to reply, "Hon, I will never understand you, unless I were to become disabled. What has happened today, is that you, for the first time in your life, have better understood the situation you are in. As long as we're human, we will all be horribly faulty. What you've realized is that you have the power to comprehend your circumstance and then from this point you can choose your attitude- or your reality."

We're getting somewhere. I hope.