23 Jan

See Me

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23/01/2013        By Nic Higham, Inpatient Care Consultant @ Star Wards

 

A few days back, I attended a staff training session at the mental health Trust I often do bank shifts at. In the dinner break I noticed a poem pinned up on a notice board. It really impacted me. I asked one of the trainers if I could have a copy of it. He replied, “Yes of course. It’s really something special isn’t it?” He told me that so many other staff have made the same request.

The poem titled ‘See Me’, was apparently found among the possessions of an elderly lady who died in the geriatric ward of a hospital. No information is available concerning her — who she was or when she died.

You may have already come across this. It seems this nameless woman has become something of an international legend. She has touched the life of many through reflecting on her own.

I don’t need to say anything else; the poem speaks for itself.

 

See Me

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?

Are you thinking, when you look at me –

A crabby old woman, not very wise,

Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,

Who dribbles her 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 stocking or shoe,

Who unresisting 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 looking at ME…

I’ll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still;

As I rise 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 girl of sixteen with wings on her feet.

Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet;

A bride 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 build a secure, happy home;

A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last;

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my man’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 husband is 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 an old woman now and nature is cruel –

‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

 

The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,

There is now a stone where once I had a heart,

But inside this old carcass a young girl 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 I open your eyes, nurses, open and see,

Not a crabby old woman, look closer, nurses — see ME!

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