The Power of Finding My Why
Sometimes it’s sitting right across from you, smiling
He is the kind of person who always has a sparkle in his eyes. Silver hair cut close on the sides but absent in the middle, small black framed glasses and a contagious smile. He asked me how I felt about the correlation between nutrition and cancer, both in prevention and benefits of a healthy diet during treatment. I told him my beliefs, then softened them with, “…it can be hard to change your tastes as an adult, especially since the chemo is busy changing your tastebuds for you.” That’s when he pointed to the bag filled with fluid and let me know that chemotherapy made him too ill, he could no longer take it. “This is my last shot,” he said, “it’s for my immune system to fight the cancer, I’m off the tough stuff.”
I’ve been here before, this place in my heart is getting more and more familiar, yet it’ll never feel like home. I’m immediately aware of my face, trying not to look disappointed, I make an attempt to spare clients my sadness and I never want to emote pity. I sense my eyebrows raising — my expression has landed in surprise, and he went on, “It’s ok, I just really miss my wife.”
It is both a blessing and curse to feel things so deeply.
The non-profit Cancer Survivorship Center I work for sent me back to my original Oncology Massage school in Southern California last year to be trained in Infusion Massage. Now they’ve hired me to go to the local cancer hospitals’ chemotherapy rooms each once per month. One hospital is a joy for me, it’s light and bright, roomy and filled with smiling faces and laughter. It never fails, when I arrive, one of the cheery nurses will announce “The Massage Therapist is here!” and as I work on the patients during their chemo treatment, one or another of the nurses will often lean over to them and tease, “I’m so jealous of you…” I love going and being in that space. I am joyful as I don my scrubs and practically skip into the building, ready to bring a tiny escape to those that need it.
The other hospital is vastly different. It’s small and cramped, dark and poorly designed. The nurses are 100% business with one another and very matter of fact with the patients. I am all but ignored when I arrive. I say my hellos, but it’s rare to even get eye contact, and sometimes I find it’s a challenge to make myself go. It’s not unusual for me to feel a sense of dread as I get ready to work my shift there, and giving myself a pep talk is regularly needed. I’ve never missed a day, but I’ll admit I’ve had temptation to call in.
One day on my commute there, stewing in anticipation of the blah I feel in that space, I asked myself why I even go.
Why bother?
Why take time away from my private practice clients to go to this hospital where I do not feel welcomed by the staff?
And there I find my WHY — I am not there for the nurses, I’m not there for myself — I am there to bring peace and calm to those that need it most. The patients at this hospital are no different than the others, just the atmosphere is different. They have no control over that and neither do I, but really, if any group of people need me to bring them a tiny vacation from the situation they are in it’s them. I am there because while all the patients are individual, they are all deserving, just like my sparkle-eyed patient I hold so close to my heart. This is where I can find my WHY.
The difference I now feel is immense. What I do for the patients is important — what the nurses at that hospital may think of me or what I do there is not. This is not about me, it is about something much bigger than I am and it is so freeing to remember that. Refocusing on my WHY and on my dear, sweet patients has given me back the fire I have in my belly to touch and bring hope to those that need it, regardless of where they are.
Why? Because I am just here to help.
The JRNI Coaching Intensive will give you the tools to see your life in a more positive light.
