8. Cancer sucks.
If you know me at all, you know how much respect I have for my mom. She was my greatest caretaker during my nearly three year experience with cancer. Cancer took a toll on her body as well as mine. After my surgeries, she was litreally my strength when I had none. She had many more sleepless nights than me. She scrutinized over every pill that came in a plastic cup for me. She knew every prescrition, every dosage, every chemotherapy agent, and every set of hands that came near my port or near my body. She was my everything. And she will always be that for me.
I am most proud of my mom not when she is talking about me, but when she is talking about her professional career. Cindy McNeil, Speech Language Pathologist. Top notch, caring, empathetic, the real deal. If it were my husband or my family member lying in that bed dealing with the devestating residuals of a stroke, I would want her on my side. In the midst of a job change, she has been in a workshop all day. She's been telling me all night about her day. The big wigs from the company spent the day blowing smoke about providing top of the line care for their patients. "We want our patients to remember Grace Hopsital. We want them to remember great food, a nice bed, good experience with people." These are the men in suits, sitting behind desks, spending their day writing mission statements and figuring out how to make themselves some money. My mom is the real life application of their so called mission statement. The provider in patient's rooms trying to facilitate healing and progress for great candidates to recover and return home. My mom spoke up. She was the voice for so many struggling, some of them even being her own patients. She told him that, after being on the recieving end of a fight for a loved one's life, a cheeseburger or a bed doesn't mean a hill of beans. What matters is compassionate people providing real care.
Mom's stories of how patients are treated and how the buisness end of healthcare often encroaches on the real life application of people fighting for their lives inspires me. I'm not sure where I'm meant to be, but it is my greatest hope that I get to spend my life advocating for patients and their families. Supporting patients on both a personal and professional level. Making a difference where I see changes that need to be made. Am I capable? Is that where I'm meant to be? I guess time will tell. I'm down to give it a go, you in?
With Love,
Sarah
