Screaming, yelling, cursing, Christmas music and 10:30PM basketball

The title is the above things that happened in 2 days of work (Thursday and Sunday. Took off Saturday to rock out to the K-LOVE Christmas tour). Proof? Here's an awesome pic! And my sister got to meet her favorite artist, Jeremy Camp. It was awesome!

CCM artist Chris August, myself, my sis, "Talk Box" and some guy

After a night like Saturday, it was hard to go into work last night. I really love concerts and take my faith in Christ seriously, but I find respite in good worship music. That respite expands when you're there in the audience and are able to experience it first-hand. I tried to keep that mentality last night, and I guess it worked; it was a decent night! After the last few weekends I've worked where it's been utter chaos, it was nice to finally have that. Myself and the other staff members enjoy it when it actually does happen, because lately it hasn't been happening too often. Classic "if it's not one thing it's something else." A quiet night every now and then makes up for the general workplace craziness. But near the end of my shift, 3 patients came up to me and asked if they could go to the gym to play horse. All of my work was done with the exception of a few housekeeping things, so I agreed to let them go down for a bit. They wanted 20 minutes, but I gave them close to 30. As I was sitting and watching them shoot baskets, hanging out together and laughing, my mind just started going and going. 

Underneath the thoughts of suicide, the depression, mania or erratic thought processes are not only patients but first and foremost,  people. Living, breathing, feeling people that God loves and cares about. I gave those 3 patients a chance for once to just be people; not patients confined to the unit of a lock-and-key psychiatric facility (and I was allowed to do this; had supervisor's permission). Because why not? Any chance that gives my patients time to act like the actual individuals that they are, I give it to them. A chance for them to feel normal. We all have ways in which we seek out to be or feel normal. Some sing, draw, write poetry. I listen to music. My patients wanted to play horse in the gym at 10:30 at night. It also made me think of that verse in Matthew where it says that if your partner is carrying his belongings for a mile, go with him two and carry them alongside him. (A loose Kelly Korb translation). But at the concert Saturday night, Jeremy Camp was talking about Hebrews 4:15 which says for we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are-yet he did not sin. It was his inspiration for his song "He Knows" (give it a listen!) and he was talking about how God knows pain. He knows what it's like. He understands, even, especially, if we don't. And that stuck with me in what I do, because 9 times out of 10, I don't have a clue what my patients are going through. I can't even begin to imagine. In some instances I'm not sure I want to, but I realized that that's not my job to try and understand every situation. It's to be God's child and practice that in the way I am with my patients. Even if that means sitting with a distressed patient when I have tons of work to get done. Even if I stand there while a patient screams, yells, curses and calls me every name in the book for no reason. Even if that means letting them go to the gym at night.