
Welcome
1/27/20263 min read
Hello! Welcome to my blog.
To tell you a bit about me, I am a nurse. And, I like to think, a kind of storyteller. Those who know me best would say I rarely keep a thought to myself, and they. are. not. wrong : ). Yet, this isn't just an opportunity for me to run my mouth, I promise.
I have been an Oncology nurse for over 20 years and through that time I have had the opportunity to witness the grief of others, again and again. Whether it be the heartache of parents of bald-headed little warriors, or wrinkled hands holding on to lifetimes of love among elderly spouses, I have had the honor to walk alongside people during their most vulnerable times. Their stories, their lives have deeply impacted the person I am. My soul has been profoundly altered by their grace.
Along the way, long after the early days of not knowing in the slightest how the heck I was supposed to be a nurse (hello new grads!), I found that I did not hide from the pain and loss of others, but rather I became cognizant of how truly honored I was to walk beside them in it. I came to learn that, though I could not fix it or solve it, I could alleviate it. By being there. Most times, that is all anyone wants.
I have been lucky to learn from so many people, in so many places. One such gamechanger/legend was Peter. I watched in awe as he spoke to a room of grieving fathers who all shared the devastating commonality of losing a child to cancer. Peter created a space for these proud, often stoic gentleman, roughened by the harshness of loss, to share their stories and their pain. He provided strength, calm and kindness to them in a way I can't quite describe, even today after so many years. Peter, it turns out, was a nurse who obtained his Doctorate in Thanatology. He told me about his education in this word I had never heard before, and I knew in the deepest part of my soul I would follow him down that road. I will save you a Google search here. Thanatology is the study of death, dying, loss and grief. To be transparent, I didn't exactly run down the road behind him, rather I walked slowly, stopping for many breaks along the way. But alas, I finally applied to a program and wouldn't you know, I graduated with my Masters degree in Thanatology last year.
Throughout the program, I became increasingly focused on the experience of grief in healthcare. It isn't a topic that has historically gotten much attention (before the Pitt!) and the more I learned about grief, the more I saw it all around me in my work, beyond my patients and their families. I saw it in my own stress, in the eyes of my colleagues, in the ever-growing demands and expectations, and the lack of resources. I saw it in the burnout and the stress-leave, and the depleting morale. I see it everywhere. And I want to do something to help to alleviate it, even a little.
And now I am here, with you.
Why the blog? Well, I love a 90's trend obviously. But seriously, I wanted to dedicate a place to write about grief and loss-mine and others. My work as The Grief Debrief RN is focused on helping other healthcare professionals through grief, and this is part of that. You might see yourself in my writings, or you might have a story to share yourself. At the very least, it might be a space you can come to breathe. When I was researching for my capstone project, aptly named Grief in Healthcare, a particular quote stuck with me. In an article looking at grief experienced by nurses, one nurse was asked how she copes, and she replied simply that she doesn't, citing a lack of time. She stated, "there's always a stairwell". This stairwell comment acknowledged the moments when it becomes too much and you need to sneak away to cry, to breathe, to wipe your face, before returning back to all that is expected of you. This idea, this stairwell, was all too familiar and the vision of her, of me, of us, alone in that stairwell follows me every day in my work. We need to acknowledge our grief. We need to humanize these feelings. We need to allow space and time to process it. That is what I want to create here.
Here, I hope you will find a safe space to remember, to connect, and to be. I hope my writing will make you feel seen, and heard and valued. Whether you are a fellow nurse, or physician, or medical assistant, or if you are simply a human being trudging through this world on fire and need a safe place to take a breath-this space is for you. Welcome.
Contact
maureen@thegriefdebriefrn.com
774-563-8050
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