I love the description of my job. I am happy to know that I will be able to help someone else to walk again within their capabilities, to be able to give a little bit of hope even though there might be just a small fraction of hope left. To see miracles in every moment of my working time.
I seem to be like it for 8 years. After that, I lost it. I lost my dedication to my job. I am still happy to see how my patients progress from bed bound to ambulating independently or with minimum assistance.
It broke my heart to see their motivation fade away day by day admitted to the ward and it broke my heart to see a patient died after I am able to at least bring them to the edge of the bed or when I am just able to talk to them after their ventilation is weaned off.
That did not make me lost my dedication. It made me stronger. I want to be a better me to be able to help them better.
Then, years after the year, it seems that the aim of my work leads to more focus on documentation. I know that it is important but when the system changes a bit fast for me, I am lost. I am lost all together along with my dedication.
The only things that keep me going are the smiles on each patient face when they are able to get up from the bed and walk again or at least sitting up straight again rather than just lying on the bed. That is the only enjoyment left in me but for the sakes of those who still need me, I am going to move forward and march as strong as I can for them.
Sometimes, in my life, it is other people who made me able to move forward. I lost my dedication but it made me create new possibilities for my future. Hope did not end with my lost.