Saturday, January 21, 2012

Immoderate Emotions

Yesterday I went to the Going Away Party for ME! at work.  I managed not to cry.  Some of you commented yesterday that it would be good for me to cry.  You probably have never seen me cry.  It is not normally just a tear or two, it is a full-out weep-fest.  Once it starts, it gets a life of its own.

I did "mist up" a couple of times.  There were a couple of speeches by people I love and respect.  They both talked about how much I always had my focus on the safety of patients.   If I had thought about what legacy I would have liked to have had - that would have been it.  I really never thought about "my legacy."   But I always knew my mission there was to make things better/more safe for the patients.  I know that line staff tend to think of people in the offices, "the suits," as people who are only thinking of numbers but I never thought ONLY of numbers - only how those affected the patients.  I am so gratified to know that this was noticed.

I got some gifts, some extremely touching cards, and we had lots of food.  It was very nice.  There is a photo that I will treasure forever - the Medical Director has been pouting for 2 weeks, since I gave notice - he couldn't walk into my office without having a little breakdown when he saw the boxes of my belongings all over the place.  We stood together at my party and made crying faces.  I love him and will miss him very much.

When I ran my first marathon, I was advised by my coach not to allow myself to cry in the last mile or two.  Simply because it takes too much energy.  I have cried at half-marathons and have felt wiped out and nutty.  When you get to the end of a long race you have spent months or years training for, it is extremely emotional.  I have crossed finish lines having virtual breakdowns.  And I have crossed finish lines with my arms in the air and a smile on my face - and I have to say I would much prefer to finish with my arms in the air and a smile on my face.  It is WAY more fun.  And although I sometimes think my emotions are out of my control, it really IS my choice how I want to finish a race.

If I look at my job as a marathon that I have spent 17 and a half years running, I know that I am not yet done. I have two more days.  I have a lot to get done in 2 days.  I cannot possibly allow myself to fall apart at this time.  I will have time to cry AFTER I leave.    But truly, I think I would rather walk out of there with a smile on my face.  Because I do feel good about my career there.

I am going out for the first run of the "spring" session of my running club this morning.  I am so happy to be doing something that is not work or relationship related.  And then a birthday party this afternoon of a dear friend.

It is going to be a great day.  I am grateful I don't have an emotional hangover from yesterday!

"Avoid then, the deliberate manufacture of misery, but if trouble comes, cheerfully capitalize it as an opportunity to demonstrate His omnipotence."  -- Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 133


dAAve said...

That sounds great.
Possible only because of sobriety and recovery.

Lou said...

I wish you were one of the "suits" where I work. I wish you were at meetings here, where there are so few examples of long term, real sobriety. On the other hand, I think your example has far reaching effects of which you are not aware.

shadowlands said...

"but I never thought ONLY of numbers - only how those affected the patients"

That is why, ultimatly, I love you Mary C.
You did a post, a long time ago, about someone you loved, who died, from active alcoholism. You didn't judge them[him]. You still love them. Your post, your words, gave me the strength, to try again, knowing there was one human being on earth that would love me still, even if I failed, which i FEAR I WILL. But I'll give it a good go non-the-less!

Thank you for the part of your heart, that you still choose, through your will, to give over, to active alcoholics.

It's like that bridge picture, you posted, the other day. The unknown. You make it possible, to dare, even though one has failed so many times. I love you Mary c.
I do.

I will pray for you and your terrifying new job, at Mass, tomorrow.

Ros. Scared alcoholic. Scared human being.

Imperfectly Healing said...

I am so happy to see you doing well. Your blog soothes my soul every time I read it.

Syd said...

I am glad that you are not a suit. I don't think that you could ever not care about others. That is why you are a great person.

Danielle said...

I enjoyed this post, really put a smile on my face and well hey, it's okay to cry sometimes. Thank you

ScottF said...

You know, my one and only 5K made me emotional...

Congrats on an amazing career and wonderful legacy. What a tribute to your recovery :-)