Self-Reflective Essay Example
I want to start this self-reflective essay off with irony. Irony is a funny thing that comes around when you least expect it. Over winter break I lost one of the most important people in the world to me. I did not grow up in a “normal” housing situation. I was born with medical issues and my parents were living with my mom’s parents at the time. The four of them did their best in raising me until my brothers came along. I do not remember being “home” with my mom and dad a bunch. I only remember being with my grandparents. A couple of years after my youngest brother was born my parents decided to go to nursing school together. I think in my parent's minds it was easier if I stayed with my grandparents because that’s where I wanted to be and that was one last child to worry about.
Growing up my grandfather had his own business so he was gone most of the time. I spent the vast majority of my time with my grandmother. We had our own routine. We would get up and eat breakfast. I would go get my toys and watch cartoons until her shows came on. We would have lunch and wait for my grandfather to get home. He would come home, cook dinner, and we would all watch our evening shows together. This went on for years. I think in total I spent around eight to ten years of my childhood with them. My grandfather would get me ready for school, make my lunch, and drop me off in the mornings. When I was ten years old I noticed a change. My grandmother had something slightly off about her.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but my grandmother was showing signs of dementia. At first, it was not bad. She would forget small things like the fact I had dance after school, or that I had a project coming up. It wasn’t until four years later that she progressed enough that she woke me up in the middle of the night screaming because someone busted the kitchen window open. I remember going to look and there was nothing there so I went back to sleep. Then another thirty minutes went by and my grandmother was shoving and hitting me to wake up. It wasn’t long after that the police found her wandering around the neighborhood in her nightgown and we had to put her in a home. We spent the next ten years going to see her and watching her wither away. She went from weighing 250 pounds to seventy-eight. She went from talking and explaining things we couldn't understand to completely mute. She went from being a little speed demon to not being able to walk. I think the worst part of it all was that I was the only person who could get her to eat. For some reason, she always knew who I was in some way. She wouldn’t know my grandfather or my mom, but as soon as I said “Nana” she perked up.
I think part of me has been grieving for the past ten years. It wasn’t all at once, but a little come out every time we saw her. The last few weeks were rough. I remember getting the call that she was in the hospital and thinking to myself “it’s okay she’s as strong as an ox. Whatever it is she will make it.” The doctors always told us her body was working at one hundred percent, but her mind wasn’t. I remember getting the call from my mom saying she wouldn’t make it through the weekend. All of this was happening in the middle of my first semester finals, so I had to make some hard choices. I drove all the way to Dallas after one of my review classes, saw her, spent the night at my and my boyfriend's apartment, and drove back to East Texas the next morning. I knew if I didn’t go I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. She ended up passing away sometime that weekend. I remember getting the call and I felt nothing. I thought after all this time I would break down or feel some kind of relief, but I felt nothing.
It wasn’t until her actual funeral a week later that I felt something. It wasn’t just one thing it was everything. I was furious that my mom and brother were fighting so he didn’t come. I was angry that my aunt didn’t show up. I felt a huge sorrow and like someone had hit me in the chest when we buried her. I felt regret that I didn’t go see her more often. In some way, I think I felt relieved that she wasn’t stuck anymore. Everyone tried to console and rationalize with me, but I didn’t want to hear it. They would say things like “she’s in a better place” or “it’s okay to let her go,” but I didn’t care. I wanted her to hold me one more time and to tell me how proud of me she is.
I think I have learned a plethora when it comes to grief. There is no “normal” response to grief. People can not be put in a box either. One person may go through all five stages of grief in the exact order whereas another person may go out of order and skip and few stages. (Kessler, D 2010) I also learned that not all children experience loss the same way. Toddlers do not understand the concept of permanent loss whereas adolescents understand death is irreversible. (Child Bereavement Uk, 2020) I also learned about grief being perceived in other situations. Most of the time we associate grief with the loss of an older person, but we also need to remember suicide, children, and perinatal losses.
I think module five has been helpful in what I want to bring into my practice. I think the article for the discussion post had important strategies to help deal with the grief we experience with the loss of a patient. I also think it’s important for us to remember we can’t save them all and eventually we will lose a patient. It is important to remember these strategies to effectively handle that situation.
