The first part of 2023 I was comfortable. I was acclimated to small talk, cups of tea, and had become accustomed to using colloquial phrases in England. My worries revolved around staying within our budget, planning our next adventure, and making sure I had my lunches prepared for the week. I really cannot recall too many worries, especially as I look back on it now.
Now. The big win at work this week was the completion of a gun buyback event. It resulted in over 150 unwanted firearms, and thousands of rounds of ammunition being removed from Tacoma’s (Tacoma Washington USA) streets in exchange for gift cards. A gun for a gift card. Now in Tacoma, there are fewer firearms in the community and an increased awareness of firearm safety. Firearms are the number ONE cause of death for people under 24 years old, especially males. Males, my sons. The safety of children is secondary to an outdated amendment. I am living in a broken world in which is my home.
My goal for 2024 is not just learning how to live in this broken world, but to see the joys between the shattered pieces. The minute moments of joys. The sharp feeling of the ice water as I swim in the Puget Sound. The coldness squeezes the air out of me, but then I breathe, in and out, slowly, and relief is found for a moment. I glide through the water, letting the sting penetrate, and I breathe.
Yesterday I received my order of intranasal Narcan (naloxone), the reversal agent for opioids, from the Department of Health. It was free. All you need to do is request it. Prompted by a friend’s Facebook post about having in the car in case you find yourself near someone who has overdosed. You never know here. So, we now have one in the truck, and I plan to carry one on my bike for my commute to work.
A day earlier, the older children and my brother-in-law showed up for an impromptu dinner after. We have always tended to cook too much for the three of us, but here it never goes to waste. Before I knew it, the house was full and alive. Alvin was playing video games with his older brother, and I was sharing my thoughts of the broken world with loved ones. A moment of joy.
At work, I see parents refusing to pick up their children. They are done with their feisty, angry teenager. Once we remind them of their obligation and mention child protective services, their tone changes. But this is only after their child has lived in our ED for 3 days or sometimes much, much longer. No sunlight, no clocks, they are behavioral health patients and hence they are in a “safe room.” A patient once told me juvenile hall is better than our ED, at least there they can get some sunlight and outdoor time. The parents do finally pick them up, and we discharge them back into unwanted hands and into the broken world.
I am learning to live in this system that previously did not phase me. Before, I did not know life could be better. Now I do. A calm society with practically no gun violence. A healthcare system that is not bound by insurance “in network” restrictions. An environment that was safe for me to go running at 10pm with my only worry was not to trip over a branch. A memory, a joy.
I try not to reminisce about our time in England or our travels, which at times feels like salt on a wound. But as I grapple with my broken home, I am starting to see the first half of 2023 more as salve to carry forth into 2024.
So as my people, immigrants who cross the Texas-Mexico border looking for a safer, better life will end up in jail due to the new law which makes it a misdemeanor. I will look at the freedom that they are seeking and embrace it. A country so vast and big, with so much freedom, too much? Is this level of freedom the cause of the fractures in our broken world?
Through the broken pieces of this world, I will continue to look through the cracks and grasp the rays of joy. The sunset off our deck, looking out onto the creamsicle colored sky and endless Puget Sound. The clear blue water which bites me as I float in it. The memories of a perfect campsite in the Scottish Highlands, so majestic that I was immune to midges. My house full and alive with loves ones. And the memories of the NHS graciousness, especially international work forces, who overwhelmed me with their gifts and words as I departed a place I now consider a second home. All the memories past and current will carry me forth in 2024, into the brokenness which I will embrace.
The nurseseye.com will continue but as of 2024 it will reflect on not only our time in England but will be a place to reflect the ever change healthcare system in the United States.
