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Monday, Jul. 15, 2002 - 3:32 PM
I fancy myself somewhat of a superhero. Imagine that. I'm nothing spectacular to look at or watch super... heroing... or whatever you call it. Thus, the Anonymous part. You'll never hear of my feats because, for the most part, they're subtle. But I still consider what I do to be important -- sometimes the little things are. I'm the guy you can talk to. I'll listen to you. I'll ask you questions. And, if everything works out right, I'll get you to see the root of the problem and figure out the answer simply by asking you questions. Most people know the answers to their problems... they're just too close to the problem to see the answer. I've said more than once that I wished I could give the world a Band-Aid. There are so many hurting people and so many answers that people just don't see. It's my deepest wish, beyond all the blather I write here, to help those people. And, I'm usually half-way decent at it. But there's that one case that comes up every once is a while that just overwhelms me. It's in my nature to want to help the hurting. And I try to at every chance I get. But, as I said, there's that one that surfaces every once in a while. As I was working on one of those last night I saw it as finding someone that was hurt and had wrapped their wound in a make-shift gauze consisting of ignoring the situation and rationalizing it away to nothing. As I slowly and carefully peeled away the bandage expecting to find a wound that needed to be rinsed in Bactine, swabbed in Neosporine, and have the bandage replaced with something of more substance than pretending the wound isn't there. What I found instead, I was not ready for. In this manageable wound's stead was a gaping, infected, bleeding wound that was very, very old. Something that had not been allowed to heal properly, so gangrene had set it. And, once again, I realized that I had gone in over my head this time. There are some times where I don't have the right thing to say. Some times where I realize I'm just a nurse practitioner and I've done something I shouldn't have without a doctor close by. It is all I can do in these times to hope that soon the Head Doctor will come and cleanse the wounds and dress them the way that only He knows how. I don't know whether to be sorry that I opened the bandage to try to help, or feel like I did the right thing in showing the wounded that they need someone to take a look at the infection and let them heal it. I hope to do the right thing. Even if it means the wounded mad at me. If their anger is a result of my helping them to heal... it's all worth it.
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