I look out of the office window as I write up my notes from the five service users I have seen that day, knowing I won’t get finished and that I will start tomorrow already behind. I look out of the window at the tree lined residential street where our team is based and note the blast of autumn in the colours on the trees. I feel sure they were still green last week but maybe I just didn’t notice?
I do remember being shocked by the drop in temperature earlier this week as I went directly from air conditioning in the car to heating. No in between, all or nothing. That’s kind of how I feel about my job, it’s a love hate relationship. I love nursing but I hate what it is doing to me.
I look at those changing shades on the trees outside my office with a sense of achievement. I survived another season. The trees were bare of leaves last winter when I moved to this role, then they blossomed a beautiful pink and white ‘snow’ which covered the road like God’s confetti. Those same trees have provided a stunning green contrast against the blue of the summer skies and now they are sporting all the reds, oranges and bronzes of autumn. Soon they will fall and the circle will be complete, the branches will be as bare as the day I first looked out of that window.
Each change in colour is a sign I have survived a little bit longer when I thought I couldn’t possibly, my track record for survival therefore is pretty good. Winter is bleak though, the leaves fall and the branches look harsh and sharp against the low seasonal sun. The energy of the summer sun in providing the green of the leaves is gone and the tree is exhausted. I, like the trees, am exhausted.
I am desperate for spring already, I yearn for my leaves to grow again and yet I wonder whether I will survive winter.