I have been working per diem since ds#2 was born over 6 years ago.  It was a hard decision made in part because I was being driven out by my co-workers.  Since then I have come to a better understanding and true love of my faith, I have started homeschooling, and I have ds#3.  Every time I work I am struck in some way, sometime subtle, sometimes glaring, as to how my perspective has drastically changed.

The first change to make itself known was my outlook regarding my job.  Gone were the resentments of patients taking up space in an already overloaded ED.  The work was still demanding and difficult, but I no longer resented coworkers, consults, and even patients as I did before.  Medicine today, because of the demands to see as many patients one can in as little time as possible, turns otherwise congenial people into grumpy, complaining, resentful, work-shirking monsters.  I could so easily see who I was before, and praise God I am no longer.  The people I work with are fabulous and talented and I would trust my life in any of their hands, so it sad to see them turned into this by our medical system.

Once a co-worker was explaining that we shouldn't feed the drunks that come in.  "They're like raccoons--if you feed them they'll just keep coming back!"  This is not an uncommon sentiment.  Part of what drives this is working where it is commonplace to have patients stacked in the hallways and waiting rooms because of hospital-wide issues, not emergency department issues, along with admitting residents, consulting physicians, and primary care doctors try hard NOT to take patients.  This has become an acceptable standard across the country.  Addicted patients usually "are not sick" (or, more accurately, they have chronic problems that cannot be treated by the emergency department.)  Sometimes they are belligerent and impatient, though not usually--they're just "frequent fliers."  I like to think that in other circumstances, the people I work with would give a homeless, marginalized, addicted person a meal--if it were not for a health care system that empties its workers of compassion.  And I think our emergency department, despite its shortcomings, actually treats this population better than others.  "He will answer them, 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.'  And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life."  Matthew 45, 46.

Last night, the doctor I worked with looked from the desk towards his patient in one of the nearby rooms.  "Can I just tell you, that if you see me like that...like 80 or something, with tubes coming from everywhere...please, put a pillow over my face.  Disconnect the vent tube.  I DO NOT want to live like that."  I've heard similar sentiments again and again--this is the standard of our society that at its extreme has led to physician-assisted suicide.  This is one view even I had before Pope John Paul II.  Are our lives only worth living when they are lived in a manner that we base humans have determined?  Must we live without suffering or infirmary if we are to live at all?  Could we live knowing we are going to die a prolonged, suffering, humiliating death--as Jesus did?  Can we not endure but a shadow of His suffering?

When I was pregnant with ds#3, I cannot even count how many people asked me, "Did you plan that one?"  It's an intrusive question on its face, and the presumption behind it is self-evident.  I would reply, "Well, I had to convince my husband, but we're thrilled!"  Two women physicians that no longer work with us, after ds#3 stated, "So, you're done now." I replied, "I had to work on my husband a bit to have number three, so maybe I'll start working on number 4 now."  I thought they were going to fall off their chairs.  Is this not the popular way of our society?

I still have many, many shortcomings; may you not think I have the patience and compassion of a saint, only that God has shown me a better way.   "Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect." Romans 12:2  Atheists would see that as close-minded, yet it has transformed my mind to see things radically different than I ever could before.

I just decided to make Romans 12:2 the mission statement of our homeschooling, since it has become such a powerful theme in my life.   Words to live and learn by.