Leap Of Faith
By: Ann Litts
Tags: Retirement, This Happened To Me, Aging, Transformation, Nursing

Forty-four working days left

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

This week I got official confirmation of my pending retirement. The boss has been able to start interviewing my replacement and I am exhaling the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

After twenty-five-plus years of working for the state, I was sure something, somewhere would throw a monkey wrench into this process. Nothing is ever easy. But apparently, enough Humans have retired from North Carolina that they have this piece down to a system that works like clockwork. A really good clock at that — not just the old windup alarm clocks of old.

I started telling a few of my patients I would be leaving them in a couple of months. I began the process of steering them towards a ‘new’ nurse for their needs and concerns. I don’t have many who have forged a strong tie to me, surgical nurses usually — even in oncology — release their patients to the care of others once the crisis of surgery has passed. But not all end up staying gone. And for the few who become frequent fliers in the land of surgery, a familiar voice on the phone was vital. They are a wonderful bunch of Humans, my patients. It has completely been my honor to share a part of their journey.

Having said all that — I am still looking forward to setting down the weight of being a professional caregiver. Nurses see sides of Humans no other profession sees. We are trusted with their lives, their loved ones, even their children. It is a heavy load to carry — to be The Advocate — in times of crisis. Nurses are the Humans who know All. The. Things. We know the number to every critical department in our facility — by heart. We know how to process the forms so our patients keep their jobs and qualify for disability payments. We know ‘why’ physicians do things the way they do them and we explain it patients, residents, medical students, and new nurses. We know all the protocols that keep our patients safe and we enforce them. Trust me, no one loves you for that last bit.

Also, this week, I began clearing out my work email folders. Through all the years I have been with my facility, I have had the same email account. And it was sorted into folders where I stored every email I might need at a later date. Friday I started to let go of those emails no longer relevant to the next forty-four days. It was a walk down memory lane as I read through old resumes, time off requests, emails from bosses and physicians I no longer work with, and many, many emails from patients — past and present. I let each one go with gratitude for the time I had spent here, doing this thing that I do.

My Best Friend has already gone through this process. His insights and advice on ‘how to retire’ have been a lifeline to the changes I am facing. Last June we celebrated when he left his career of thirty years. I bought him the best scotch I could find. This year when he came to visit he returned the favor by bringing me the most excellent tequila I’ve ever had. I fear I am now ruined for the tequila I can actually afford on a pension!

I know the next couple of months will fly by — don’t they always? What happened to this summer? It’s September! Mid-September even! I am reveling in the thought that every day will soon be Saturday for me. Even amid COVID, I have plans in place. Stories to write. Things to do. Humans to see. Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week — going all the way back to Saturday morning cartoons when I was a kid. To think My Life will soon be completely made of Saturdays fills me with complete JOY.

I have lived more lives in My Life this time around than I can count. I have faced dramatic changes where life was forever defined in my psyche as Before said event and After. However, it just seems to get easier with each shift. Perhaps one of the gifts of growing old gracefully is the ability to adapt, grow, take the leaps of faith at a full run instead of teetering at the edge of the cliff.

For well over a year I have been running at this cliff — hurling myself towards the edge as fast as my feet will carry me. Looking forward to falling into Saturday For The Rest Of My Life.

Namaste.