I have been sorting through some of the allotment vegetables this morning and have been preparing shallots for pickling. Repetitive tasks allow the mind to wander somewhat, and I have found myself thinking a little about grief.Now, I am not being morbid here, it is just that one of my friends has just lost his father to cancer and I have recently perused Dia's somewhat interesting blog which is centred around the taboo subjects of death and dying (http://acuriouscure.wordpress.com/ )
I am no stranger to death. Intensive care is not all about the high tech saving of lives. many,many people are admitted to us with completely clapped out old bodies that have no reserves to fight the conditions that assault them. In other words, they are dying.
Some say that admission to us , for many is inappropriate.....I am not getting into that debate, but what I will say that for the majority of dying patients, the one to one nursing ratio on intensive care affords them and their families a better chance for individualised and appropriate end of life care.
I have witnessed immensely moving scenes of grief and I have seen the absurd. The "British" stiff upper lip , the screaming, the crying, the anger and the simply lost and numb, every situation is different and needs careful and mature care....it is a role that I am used to, and it is a role that has perhaps , in the past masked my own experiences of grief.
My father died back in 1990 from a sudden heart attack a month or so after one of my best friend's died in a terrible plane crash and my mother died seven years ago from a sudden exacerbation of a long standing respiratory condition. In all of these cases my various levels and experiences of grief I suspect were dampened by my need to be the "nurse" within the family group. On reflection I know I didn't really bury my grief to a place that would cause me later psychological pain and suffering, I just think that my nursing background prepared me for the health care based experiences I went through.
Having said all this, I have suffered a sudden and devastating grief reaction which came out of the blue and which effortlessly sideswiped all of my known nursing defences. My first dog Finlay, died at the age of 5 back in 2007 and I think I was wholly unprepared for the depth of my grief for a "mere" animal when I had effectively sailed through the grief I felt for my own parents.
My feelings shocked me, but in retrospect I am so glad that they did catch me unawares......for the emotions I felt were pure and uncluttered by the complicated and lengthy relationships we have with our dysfunctional mothers and fathers.
Human relationships with animals are often cleanly defined and accepted. Psychological baggage is just not present and the clarity of affection is well accepted by all.....This honesty is perhaps one of the reasons why animals are such a part of my life.
Sometimes it is not always a good thing being the nurse.
What a thoughtful and interesting piece. I have been lucky in my life and have not been touched too much by death - that sounds terrible, but you know what I mean, I can understand also your feelings when your dog died. He relied on you totally.
ReplyDeleteSue
Such an interesting post !
ReplyDeleteWhen I lost my first Yorkie not long after moving to the States, I was totally devasted.
I just could not put it all behind me and move forward.
It was a feeling of utter despair.
Over the years, I have lost relatives, and friends, all of whom I loved deeply, but there is something about losing an animal that hurts so profoundly it's almost paralyzing.
I have worked in the veterinary field for forty years, most everyday I witness death, it humbles you.
What a thoughtful post John. I often wonder if other religions or cultures deal with bereavement better than we do. The only certainty in life is death, and yet we often don't deal "well" with it.
ReplyDeleteWow! I'm really pleased you said all that because I've been feeling quite bad and guilty because I've lost a few family and friends over the years as you do with passing time and I have just accepted it and whilst sad about it never felt the need to shed a tear Yet since my dog Tippy died which is weeks ago now I still can't even think about her without tearing up. Even just writing this has set me off and I don't understand why because when all said and done she was just a dog - was she really more important to me than family and friends?
ReplyDeleteThere is no telling about grief, how you will take it. My Father passed and I still grieve, my Mother passed and I was almost happy for her, My Sister passed and I still grieve, My Brother passed and I grieved, but feel better for the fact that he is at peace. I have had pets come and go, but, My Rough (who was run over at an old age) has been gone 6 years now and I still feel the loss as if it were yesterday. He was my shadow, my companion, my child's guardian. I am so attached to Jack, I need to pass before he does, or they will need to send me to the funny farm. Some deaths are just harder to take than others. It doesn't matter if it's family or pet - pets can be like your children and it can be devastating. JMHO.
ReplyDeleteWhen my daughter was in ICU, the old man in the next bed died. They fetched his body & Amy (hardly able to speak) wanted to know what was happening, not wanting to alarm her I said he was just being moved. She said 'I hope he's frigging dead, his snoring pissed me off! That was the first time we thought 'Thank God, she's going to make it'! It's thanks to the wonderful staff (like you) Marvelous people. xxx
ReplyDeleteI think that you hit on it when you said that our connection to our animals is clean and simple, not cluttered with the baggage that humans relationships carry.
ReplyDeleteWe invest so much of ourselves in these creatures, because it is safer, that we feel it more, when they die. With other humans, there is always something held back, some part of ourselves that we keep locked away.
John, I think that your job is extremely hard. I can't imagine anything more difficult than taking care of sick and injured people. I can't tell you how grateful I am for the caring and compassionate nurses that I've met in my times of grief.
ReplyDeleteOh John, thanks for telling this story. What a great chance for all of us to open up on a topic that's so tough. My mom died last year and, as a hospice aid, I too wore two hats during the journey. With her dying, my background helped me navigate the storm of emotions and loss (mine and family's) more than I can say. But the loss of our beautiful little Ayla-puppy a few years back threw me into an absolute maelstrom for a while. I was devastated. I don't think it's about who I loved more, it's just as Sharon said... Our animals in many ways ARE like children, innocent, dependent, and oh so vulnerable in their quirky, sometimes maddening ways. Their loss really does bypass all the baggage and stab straight to the core.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you described the different forms grief can take:
"I have witnessed immensely moving scenes of grief and I have seen the absurd. The "British" stiff upper lip , the screaming, the crying, the anger and the simply lost and numb, every situation is different and needs careful and mature care..."
It's so true...I don't think there is a "right" way to grieve, or even that there are some relationships we "should" grieve more than others. Grief is just an expression of the wounding...great or small...that comes with the loss of something we love. As such it really is something that always needs careful and mature care. Those under your care are lucky to have you, John!
(And thanks for the link! What a great surprise...)
So thankful you shared this, and I am grateful to know I am not the only one who feels that way. I too experienced an extraordinary amount of unexpected grief when our 18 yr old dog died last fall, unlike any grief I had ever experienced over the loss of a human being. I felt guilty about it for the longest time.
ReplyDeleteFirstly, thank you for such a wonderful blog.
ReplyDeleteMy love for all animals is deep, but it is cats that I have always had as companions, so over the years I have lost several. Every time I lose one I vow not to get another but as time heals, I always succumb.
I tried having 2 so as to take the hurt away when one went but it did not work.
I was devastated when I lost my lovely old kitty in 2009 at age 14 and then Fred 14 this year and like your other comment I cannot even look at a photo without getting deeply upset.
I know have a stray mummy and her 4 kittens, (well 2 years old now ) and hope to live long enough to give all 5 of them a good life.
As for coming to terms with death, I am 64 and have pondered long and hard on that one without managing to sort it out.
Thank you once again for a really thought provoking blog.
Briony
Great post today.
ReplyDeleteI can take a family/friends passing way better than an animals. I know, that sounds callous.
It's been ten years since I lost my Pit to cancer and to this day I will tear up.
Animals do touch our hearts and souls and it hurts so deeply when they pass on.
Everyone grieves in their own way.
John, as a fellow nurse of some 45 years I have also seen my fair share of death and grieving and I standby the professional dissociation that most health professionals develop as a 'coping mechanism' - we have had to do so or we would be, emotionally, torn apart. The thing that hits me hardest is when death comes to someone or something close. When my brother-in-law died last month I was stuck to the point of total emotional devastation, he was such a wonderful man. At the same time, the loss of two of my dogs - Tiger the Jack Russell, 15 years old, and the darling, Miss Socks, 8 years old, also tore me apart and i could not handle any part of their deaths for weeks.
ReplyDeleteI liked your piece - it was thoughtful and considered. Thank you!
In the case of my Mom, with all of our years of bickering and judging and resentment and punishment, etc... it was harder to get down to the raw emotion clouded by a large history when she passed. Like you, I was the caretaker for my Father from that point on, and had to kick into that mode immediately, and also wasn't afforded the luxury of letting go to feel anything. Again, like you, I lost it ompletely when I lost my dog, Shelby because it was a loss of plain and simple unconditional love. The emotion wasn't hidden behind anything.
ReplyDeleteFunny you should post that on the anniversary of my parents' deaths (they died on the same day, five years agpart.) A very thoughtful post. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteReading my daughter's FaceBook yesterday and here's what she said: "So many crying kids the first weeks of school! My class sounds like a middle eastern funeral procession when we line up to walk down the hall." It made me laugh, but come to think of it, I am (possibly) oddly undemonstrative when it comes to death and dieing. I must have passed that on to Jessica, as she seems the same way and we both feel it is like watching a crazy, overly dramatic play when seeing anyone wailing or "putting on a show" in public like that. Maybe it's our British blood or German blood, or maybe we're just the odd ones. hmmmmm. Yes, that's probably it. I have had a good cry in private though, I must admit.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Reading this helped lessen the guilt I have felt for grieving more for Bob and Cricket than for my brother. I just can't seem to get over the suddeness of Cricket's death. It has been months and I still cry for the little girl. I think you are right. Pure emotion without the clutter of proprieties.
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