The Grind

There are many reasons I haven't taken some time to blog lately, but the one that seems to have hindered me the most is that I have felt completely exhausted lately. Physically and emotionally drained. I come home from work and sit down with the intention of never standing again. I have recently said I will never ever make fun of my dad for falling asleep on the couch every single night (sorry, Dad!) because now I get it.

Last week felt more exhausting than most. I saw more patients in a day than I ever thought was physically possible in our tiny clinic. I was here extra long hours and felt like all I was doing was working, sleeping, and eating. My boss took me out for brunch Thursday (the best boss), and confronted my fatigue head on. He said something along these lines:

"Abbey, you've let it become a grind. You see patients and just want to keep them moving and get the next one ready."

He was referring especially to a conversation he overheard between me and one of my favorite patients in which she was sharing with me some really difficult news that she had received that weekend. I was unable to engage with her, because I was so exhausted that I was barely listening. I was initially taken aback by his statement thinking. "How the heck do you expect me to engage with everyone when we see 50 people in one day??" But as I thought about it the next day at work and over the weekend, I realized how true it really was.

I'm currently reading, Tattoos on the Heart, an account of gang life in LA as told by a Jesuit priest Fr. Gregory Boyle. The chapters are full of stories of his work with current and former gang members and the neighborhoods of LA. He tells the story of one girl who had been locked up for awhile and was really difficult and gave him loads of attitude. She comes to his office one day and he recollects a certain sense of annoyance that he felt that she was there. She began to tell him a story, at this point I don't really remember what it was about, and as she is talking begins to feel shame because he had seen her as an interruption to his day.

How true is it that often times our days become a series of assembly lines and to-do lists. We grumble at the people who interrupt our routine and make us stray from this path we have created with the idea that it is the best and most productive way to get us out of work and back home to the couch. This is how we let our days become a grind. This is how we let fatigue take over and put our bodies into autopilot.

This week I have attempted to slow down and re-engage. Allow conversations with patients to last longer than I think they should. Let charts sit in a stack for 5 more minutes so I can ask someone about their day, and actually hear the response. I feel much less tired today. Part of it is that I sleep better at night, but more importantly I think it's because I spend less energy fighting off the "interruptions" in my day. My conversations feel more genuine, and for that reason, much more life-giving and energizing.

Here's to fighting the grind this week and every week. Because in reality, what's more important than building relationships and having genuine interactions? Certainly not my couch or the nap I've been dreaming about that's for sure.