Purple Hands
In his book Compassion Fatigue, Dr. Charles R. Figley states “There is a cost to caring, professionals who listen to client’s stories of fear, pain , and suffering may feel similar fear, pain, and suffering because they care. Sometimes we feel we are losing our sense of self to the clients we serve. Those who have an enormous capacity for feeling and expressing empathy tend to be more at risk of compassion stress.” …and it is the prolonged exposure to compassion stress that can eventually lead to Compassion Fatigue. At the beginning of my own journey with Compassion Fatigue work, I came across this one paragraph. I soon came to realize that these words were and still are the most quoted in all of the Compassion Fatigue work. Maybe because Dr. Charles R. Figley is the founding father of Compassion Fatigue work, but also, these words hit the core of what compassion fatigue really is and what it feels like. We remember what Maya Angelou said — ‘I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.’ Words can make us feel something. These words resonate within us, as well as validate, and acknowledge those within the helping fields that we are greatly affected by the work that we do.
When I originally started out on my career path, I was headed towards being an English Literature teacher, and one day on my way to class I happened upon someone that has since created a full circle moment for me. This was someone who no one else thought mattered, someone who wasn’t valued and still is not valued in society today; a homeless man. I can’t for the life of me even remember his name, but this man who matters to me in my life then and now actually helped lead me down the path of nursing. I just wish that I could someday thank him. I was 22 years old, on my way to English class at Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada, this particular winter evening, and as I started trudging down the dark market streets I was thinking over and over in my mind how late I was, and how I needed to get there faster than I could. Speeding up on foot on St. Patrick Street, I came up to Clarence St. and made my usual turn. It was a crisp freezing -30 below zero evening. I continued thinking how I needed to work harder because I wanted better marks, that last mark I had received in Political Science class just wasn’t good enough, how boring was that class anyways, it was supposed to be a “bird class” and it had just now become a thorn in my side. As I came around the corner, I saw a homeless man, the same homeless man that I passed by pretty much every day. But this particular day, things were different. The man had fallen on his side and he was looking up at me and his one hand was held up towards me saying “please help me, please help me.” As I passed him we exchanged eye contact. Strangely this was the first time that our eyes ever met. It was a kind of acknowledgement that you’re there and I’m here. I kept walking past and said to myself “really buddy, really?!! I’ve got somewhere to go, I’m going to be late for class and (to be honest I also thought) I’m important!!” As I walked about 10 steps, I stopped dead in my tracks. Something inside of me said “Romney what are you doing?! You go back and pick that man up and help him!” So I turned around, and walked back to the man who was desperately asking for my help. For it was me that he was asking. I didn’t realize at the time but no one else was paying any attention to him. As I started walking towards him FEAR struck me and I started to think “what am I going to do with this guy?”… but I had already made the decision to answer his call for help. I feared that I was now going to be stuck with a drunk homeless man and not know what to do with him. As I reached him and grabbed hold of him, the smell of alcohol on his breath was overpowering. As I pulled him up off the ground to my level, I again got eye contact with him and said “OK buddy what am I going to do with you now?” Immediately in his drunken stupor, he said “I need to go over there”, pointing his swaying finger in front of us. I looked to where he was pointing ahead of us and said “Over there? what’s over there?” and he said “there’s a place two blocks down that way where I can sober up and sleep the night”. I listened to him and said “OK”, relieved that now I had a plan, or WE had a plan. So we started on our walk and he was so intoxicated that I had to not only steady him, but also hold firmly onto him. With my arm around his waist in support, we started on our way leading him to where he needed to go. On our way there, I glanced down at his hands. I took in a big gasp of cold air as I noticed that his hands were purple, frost-bitten, with a few fingers missing. Not being able to stand the look of them any longer, I paused for a few seconds and I took off my warm leather gloves and I placed them on his hands, he again got eye contact with me and with a smile said “Thank you” and I said “You’re welcome.” We reached the sobering house and knocked on the door. The door swung open and a very cheerful man greeted us, knew him by name and helped us in the door. We sat him down in a chair, a cup of tea was quickly brewed and I realized “I’ve really got to get to class, I’m really going to be late now!!” So I hurried out the door and as I turned to leave they said “thank you for bringing him in on such a cold night,” I said “no problem.” and they added… “Oh, wait a minute you forgot your gloves, you need to take those.” I looked at them and say “Oh no, I’m not taking my gloves he can have them”. “But… they insist … no really take them, he’ll loose them” and I said “No I’m not taking my gloves back , he can have them, I can’t stand the site of his hands they’re purple!!…and I can buy a new pair anyways.” I turned to the homeless man again and said “Bye” again acknowledging him and he said “Thank you” and again I said “You’re welcome.” So I left there not thinking that I had done anything really that great and I carried on to class.
Once I got home after class, I called my dad and asked him to send me some money as I needed to now buy a new pair of gloves. My Dad asked me “What happened to your old ones?” and I said “Dad I gave them to this homeless man…I had to…his hands were purple!” There was silence on the phone. I said “Dad are you there?” and he said with a quivering voice “Yes I’m here.” I said “Dad what’s wrong? Are you crying?” and he said “No…Nothing’s wrong, I just think that what you did is amazing!” I brushed it off and said “Ahhh Dad, anyone would’ve done the same thing, it’s really not a big deal!” So all these years my Dad has told that story to everyone that he knows and I have gotten really embarrassed and tried to redirect the conversation to talk about something else. My dad even told this story at my wedding and I thought “Oh no, not this embarrassing story again!” I’m even embarrassed to tell all of you this story, but I feel that it is now time and needs to be told. All my life, my parents had placed a huge amount of importance on education, but in his wedding speech my dad didn’t talk about all my degrees or awards that I had achieved in my life. He talked about how I care about others, others who no one else in the world values or wants, people who others believe to be losers, a burden on society or beneath their feet. In my books there are no losers, there are only those who have been less fortunate, and some that have never even had a chance to have a good life. I’ve only recently 21 years later, realized the importance of what I did that day. Now I can honestly say that I’m proud of what I did.
The reason why I am sharing this story with you is because now I realize that my words “anyone would’ve done the same” is not actually true. Some people out there really don’t care about others, his purple hands symbolize that. To care about others is the definition and the essence of the nursing and the medical professions. Sometimes we care so much that we loose ourselves, especially when we can’t lift patients up off the ground because they just physically can’t get up no matter how hard we try to help them. Often they just need to move on to their next life and we need to accept that. Just like Charles R. Figley says, caring does come at a cost. And we do have to look at it as a cost to understand it. It’s like a bank account, if we keep giving out all of our caring, compassion, and empathy to others without making deposits back into our care banks for ourselves, we will end up in a negative balance with possibly a negative attitude. Unfortunately, this is what makes people think that some of us don’t care. For us to prevent burnout we MUST care about ourselves and each other. When you come across someone who may have burnout maybe we need to bravely reach out to them in a caring way. I have spoken to many who confess that they are burnt out. They don’t want to be miserable and often don’t realize how they are coming across. Burnout is directly linked to dissatisfaction with our work environment. Compassion Fatigue stems from absorbing the suffering of patients. So we need to change our environment to a more positive one and support one another when we are suffering. It is Caring that will make us all feel supported, keep us positive, and help build trust for the strong teams that we need. We need to strongly support each other and not tear each other down. Not point fingers at each other, but realize that we all have the same struggles. Supporting each other shows our strengths, tearing each other down shows our weaknesses. Supporting each other is leading each other to where we ALL want and need to go. That is collaboration. Most importantly, someone said to me “We can often mistake Compassion Fatigue and Burnout as being caused by colleagues rather than being shared by them, because of our own common work stresses, so we need to build awareness to look out for one another, and not only in our own professions.” Strong, positive, and professional working relationships are essential to success, we can’t be successful without them. We all need to look at ourselves and ask “What can I do to ensure that my workplace a healthy one?”
I believe that maybe one of this homeless man’s purposes in life was to bring us all closer together. The irony in this story is that all these years I have thought that I just helped him, but now I have come to the realization that he has also helped me and many of you “carry on” along our path in nursing.
Thank you for listening.
Take care of yourselves and each other. Romney Pierog