Dorrie's "Ab Crunch Extravaganza" continues. I am regularly able to do 275 crunches. I am not to 365 a day yet, but I keep telling myself that I am a work in progress. I am already stronger than I was a week ago. Work in progress. The plant that keeps growing through dirt.
Because I am. Some days I feel I have come so terribly far and other days, well, I'm glad I got out of bed and didn't cry in the board room. Just yesterday, I had a terrible night's sleep and had to chair an ethics consult about transgenderism and the hospital's stance on transgender procedures, sensitivity training, and advocacy. It's kind of hard to not laugh when the meeting is full of terminology pertaining to genitalia and we argue the moral perspective of a breast augmentation for the intention of cross-dressing, not a full gender transition. Seriously. Did I mention I was the only woman in the room? Again?
I flashed back to 2009 when I was the administrative fellow, learning, soaking up everything, and trying to be effective while not making a fool of myself. In this particular meeting, I thought it best to shut up.
But the conversation was SO heady, about institutional Church teaching and cutting edge moral debate for which there have been no formal teachings. So we're left to...well, figure it out. This stuff is hard. These issues trouble Catholic healthcare nation-wide and no one has the answers yet.
Sometimes I feel like whopping for joy and clicking my heels in glee when I realize I love my job. I can't believe I'm in this position, making a difference for our ministry. And sometimes, I glance in the mirror to check that my eyeliner is not running, notice my eye is twitching again, and wonder what the hell I got myself into.
I will submit my PhD application this weekend and will hopefully get accepted. Deep inside, I'm still that adolescent who fears going out for volleyball because (gasp!) what if I don't make the team? Despite two master's degrees and numerous trips across the globe, I'm still that insecure girl at times. Will they like me? Will they accept me? Will this doctorate thing work out after all? It feels like the proverbial fork in the road - if I am accepted to the program, this ethics gig is the right path. I'm increasingly being referred to as "ethicist" (and more importantly, feeling more confident in my moral judgments and clinical ethics recommendations). But my employer has made it pretty clear that they expect me to have a doctorate in Ethics. So if I don't get into this program, then what? Apply to another and live across the country from Jack? Sigh...I don't even want to think about it.
I miss hospital operations but I don't. I miss the people and the wonderful interactions with patients and staff. I do not miss the radiology image viewing system crashing at 2 a.m. And me having to get showered and dressed to go in and calm the mess. Then try to gut through countless meetings that day. Tomorrow, I teach my first five-hour Ethics class to nursing administration. I am back to telling myself that I GET to do this and if things get really bad, just pretend I'm on Saturday Night Live. That works, right? As long as I don't get caught lip-syncing?
There's a big show being binge-watched right now, called the "makings of a murderer." I am not going to watch that but it does make me think about the "making of an ethicist." These long, windy, sometimes-scary roads have to be taking me somewhere, right? I keep telling myself to have faith, to go where God leads me. But it's never easy and despite my frequent requests, God hasn't emblazed any neon signs in my immediate path.
Oh well....Just keep swimming.
No comments:
Post a Comment