Monday Blog
I must confess— working as the blogger, I have many a time found myself feeling useless.
When I passed out in Dr. Childs’ herniaplasty surgery on Monday, barely a foot away from the operating table, I was humiliated. With a job so seemingly trivial compared to the life-saving work happening around me, I thought the best thing I could do for the team was to be as little of a burden as possible. Blacking out in the operating room is probably about as “burden” as you can get.
In a team so packed-full of talent, it can be hard not to feel like an imposter. No matter your role, it seems to never feel like you’re doing enough, especially when there is so much to be done. It can be hard to balance the complexity of treatment, which is not just standard medical care, but care articulated using a foreign language.
But it’s because there is so much to do that this “hierarchy” of usefulness is so untrue.
During a life-changing diagnosis or an active operation, there’s no time to think about whose job is most important. The surgeon cannot begin without the nurses, the nurses may need a translator, and so on.
The problem is that many of these essential jobs are invisible, and my biggest mistake was confusing visibility with value. It felt wrong to compare my contribution to the immeasurable work of the rest of the staff, and yet on Monday I began to understand that my role carried a different kind of weight. In my documentation, I have the power to spread awareness of the incredible work of the rest of my team. Realizing the best way for me to make a difference was to get back in the field, I quickly picked myself up from my embarrassing morning. By the end of the day, I had the privilege of observing three more miraculous surgeries. During the oophorectomy Monday morning, I was astounded at how the six hands of Dr. Chavez, Dr. Siller, and Dr. Falk seamlessly adapted to each other’s movements with a precision and efficiency that an independent mindset would’ve never allowed.
In a conversation with our pastor Kristin Huffman, she recalled a patient telling her, “God is within me. God is everywhere.” After giving the statement some thought, I finally saw the power of it in reflecting the power of our mission. If God is everywhere, then meaning is everywhere. Meaning is present in the work of every staff member who sacrifices their time and energy to be a part of this team, and meaning is present in the patients, who oftentimes can teach our team as much as we teach them.
Lying in the hospital bed, I felt the most useless, and yet when the same people I thought I was burdening cared for me without hesitation or judgment, I witnessed the true strength of our team.
