Returning again to Medicine King Bodhisattva chapter where the Buddha says: “Star-King-Flower! Anyone who aspires for, and, wishes to attain Anuttara-Samyak-Sambodhi, should offer a light to the stupa of the Buddha by burning a finger or a toe.” As I consider this I kept wondering about how it would be possible to burn oneself without catching fire?
The fire and burning I come up with is that of passion. When I think about the work of medical providers and compassionate care-givers I recall the many dedicated and passionate individuals I have met and worked with over the years. These people have been truly passionate about their work. And yes, in some cases their passion did cause them to burn-out, did cause them to self combust.
If you have ever cared for someone who is ill, and especially if it is a long term illness for which recovery either never comes or comes after a lengthy period then you know that the toll is great. It takes dedication, passion even if unaware it is a passion, to care for the sick. And without proper care it can completely burn one up.
When Gladly-Seen-By-All-Beings burned his arms the Bodhisattvas, gods, men, asuras and others were overcome with sorrow, I immediately think of the sorrow families expressed when a loved one or a friend becomes ill. They are full of sorrow and sadness, and wonder what they can do? Doctors and nurses, even when witness to numerous tragedies still cry, even if only in their heart and not visibly, when they have to treat the sick and especially if the situation is hopeless. Just as all were overcome with sorrow over Gladly-Seen-By-All-Beings’ loss of his arms.
People don’t often think about the deaths of hospital clinicians, nurses, aides, and doctors yet the hospital family does. When a beloved and caring team member dies it hits all with tremendous impact. Frequently these deaths are from what could be termed job related stress; heart attacks, and suicide, automobile accidents which may be related to being overworked. The stress of any care provider whether in a facility setting or at home is often overlooked or ignored.
Not only is there the stress of the emotional impact there is the work load stress. In a care facility there are always more patients and needs than staff, the same is true at home. The hours are long, as they are at home though at home there may never be any time off. The resources are always insufficient and stretched thin whether in a facility or at home.
Passion and dedication are what gets you through.
[amazon_link asins=’1979530815,B00HTOFM44,1975689763,147834198X,0692257470,1979814023,1511592907,1726325520,1508534780,1492886041′ template=’ProductCarousel’ store=’ryusho0a-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’5b00ab74-b021-11e8-94bb-8388b7973e5c’]
One of the last young boys I took care of before I moved from San Diego was a particularly hard one for me. I had been taking care of this guy for several weeks, his infections were almost unspeakable and some of the worst I’d ever witnessed. It was a constant battle of puss, and blood. I swear I don’t know how he managed to live as long as he did.
Right before he died they finally opened up an AIDS ward at the hospital and he managed to finally get one of the 5 beds. I had been working almost round the clock on my printing job, and in fact the evening I last saw him I had come off a 36 hour shift. I was exhausted. I stopped by the hospital on my way home and sat with him in his room.
It was the first time I can say he had been comfortable since before he became sick. He was in a clean bed, the best I could do was wash the linens and they wouldn’t come clean from the blood, no matter how I tried. His bed linens were all white, and his gown was clean. The room was well lit and I guess he had some decent food. I couldn’t always provide the best meals what with meager money myself, though he always had something to eat.
I sat in the chair and I drifted off to sleep there in front of him. When I woke up a little while later he looked at me and said why don’t you go home now, you’re tired and I’m alright. I said that’s a good idea and I left him. Shortly after I got home I got a call from the hospital saying he died shortly after I left.
As sad as that was I didn’t have time to really grieve because I then needed to make arrangements for his burial. It fell to myself and my partner and one other person to come up with the money to have him cremated and buried. The day we buried him his mother showed up, we had told his grandmother of his death because he was close to her. His mother had kicked him out and ‘disowned’ him. She showed up at the cemetery and asked us where he had been living because she wanted to get his things and sell them. We refused to tell her.
In some ways I think I am still grieving his death.
Subscribe to my blog post newsletter
[amazon_link asins=’1979530815,B00HTOFM44,1975689763,147834198X,0692257470,1979814023,1511592907,1726325520,1508534780,1492886041′ template=’ProductCarousel’ store=’ryusho0a-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’5b00ab74-b021-11e8-94bb-8388b7973e5c’]
