A war of sorts

Last weekend we had the distinct pleasure of hosting many of the MICU nurses from back in Tracy's ICU days for a reunion of sorts. For anyone who has ever heard Tracy tell stories from the ICU, you know that a get-together means some serious laughter. If you aren't in health care or seen a loved one in the hospital you would never believe half of the stories they tell. And you definitely wouldn't believe that we think they're HILARIOUS.

The more I think about it, the more it seems like these amazing women (and Vin) have been through a war of sorts together. They have seen humans, sometimes they're own or their closest friends' family members, at their sickest, most undignified time. They have seen people deteriorate with and without grace, people reduced to their most powerless, their most helpless; people faced with no good options; people without control of their mind and/or body; people reduced to organic systems. For most of us it is something we only see when a close family member is sick or dying. For them, it's an every day (or every night) ocurrence.

When they get together and tell these stories and laugh until they pull a back muscle (no seriously, Tracy did) my theory is that they start to heal pieces of themselves that have been damaged from having to see humans at their sickest. There is something about health care that's hard to name and even harder to compensate: an emotional expenditure that noone can pay you for in money. But, somehow, you feel richer than Bill Gates when you can allow the comedy that is life come through the little pieces that are broken and know without a doubt that all of these people that you've fought the good fight with are your friends.

Knowing they are there and undersand something undescribable inside each other's souls is worth more than anything monetary.