Crabby Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man, . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . . . . and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am, . . . . . . . . as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . . as I eat at your will
I'm a small child of Ten . . . . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty. . . . . .My heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows . . . . . . that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, . Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . . My loved one and me .
Dark days are upon me . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . . . . .. . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age. . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . . . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years . all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . . open and see.. Not a crabby old man . Look closer . . . see . . . . . . . ME!!
What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man, . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . . . . and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am, . . . . . . . . as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . . as I eat at your will
I'm a small child of Ten . . . . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty. . . . . .My heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows . . . . . . that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, . Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . . My loved one and me .
Dark days are upon me . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . . . . .. . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age. . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . . . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years . all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . . open and see.. Not a crabby old man . Look closer . . . see . . . . . . . ME!!
~author unknown
5 comments:
Sarah,
Thanks for this!
I am sitting at my 70 year old Dad's computer. This could have been written about him - married at 20, 4 kids by 26, widower at 60. He had a triple lumbar fusion 3 weeks ago tomorrow, which included a 16 day stay in the hospital and rehab. Yes, there are times when he's crabby, but losing some of his independence is hard on him.
Be an awesome, caring nurse, Sarah!
Awwwww....that is so sad. So touching, and I feel such compassion for the elderly--especially because losing dignity as you grow old is embarrassing and difficult.
You're such an amazing person, and I think they will never find a better nurse than you. Not only your expertise makes you great, but mostly your love and that you truly care. Your patients will feel that and be so grateful! =)
And I hope I'm never a patient of yours!!.....JK! (Sorry, it was so serious I had to throw something funny in there!) Love ya!!!
All I can say is... WOW! That was really touching. Have you read Nicholas Sparks' book The Notebook? He wrote it based on the true story of a family relative. This poem makes me think of that book. (Sorry I couldn't underline the book title... major English nono. lol)
Sis McElhaney, I witness this sort of thing every day in the hospital and it would be so easy to get caught in the "routine" . . . this poem was just a little reminder to all of us that each individual is different and has lived a life that many will never know about. I have had many elderly patients tell me "It's the pits getting old" . . . I hope I will never get stuck in the routine and will always be able to add "care" in my own patient care.
Janell. . . you better watch it. . .you just may end up being a patient of mine one day (as you know my specialty is labor and delivery) hehe
Von. . yes, I have read The Notebook. . . kinda follows the same lines huh?? Nicholas Sparks weaves intricate stories to touch the heart and soul, not just nonsense to fill a page. . . definitely worth the time to read it.
Being a Nurse is the most rewarding career outside of being a wife and mom (you'll get those too some day Sarah). I look forward to taking care of these type of patients again. I love Geriatrics. I can't wait to be back listening to the older people tell me all about their life.
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