From the hearts of an elderly woman and a Nurse from our Celtic friends. The reality of Caregiving….
What Do You See, Nurse?
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
Are you thinking when you look at me …
A crabbit* old woman, not very wise
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice … “I do wish you’d try”.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.
Who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse, you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still
As I move at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother
Brothers and sisters who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon a husband she’ll meet.
A bride soon at twenty … my heart gives a leap
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast
Bound together with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and gone
But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty once more babies play round my knee
Again we know children, my loved ones and me
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead
I look at the future, I shudder with dread
For my young are all rearing young of their own
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel
‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart
There is a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, all gone too fast
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer …
SEE ME.
Published in Beacon House News, the magazine of the Northern Ireland Association for Mental Health.
A Nurse’s Reply to “See Me”
A careless word may kindle strife:
What do we see, you ask, what do we see?
Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee!
We may seem to be hard when we hurry and fuss,
But there’s many of you and too few of us.
We would like far more time to sit by you and talk,
To bathe you and feed you and help you to walk,
To hear of your lives and the things you have done;
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son,
But time is against us, there’s too much to do
Patients too many and nurses too few.
We grieve when we see you so sad and alone,
With nobody near you, no friends of your own.
We feel all your pain, and know of your fear
That nobody cares now your end is so near.
But nurses are people with feelings as well,
And when we’re together, you’ll often hear tell
Of the dearest old Gran in the very end bed,
And the lovely old Dad, and the things that he said,
We speak with compassion and love, and feel sad
When we think of yours and the joy that you’ve had.
When the time has arrived for you to depart,
You leave us behind with an ache in our heart.
When you sleep the long sleep, no more worry or care,
There are other old people, and we must be there.
So please understand if we hurry and fuss–
There are many of you and too few of us.
