An important part of nursing is the gift of sound. We almost forget the beauty and nature of it, the rhythm of what we hear.
We can tell from a baby’s first gasp and cry and we are often the ones to witness the last gasp of the dying.
We honor these sounds with our presence, never forgetting the blessing to be there at the beginning; the silence of pain at the end to life and the sounds in between.
We know when it gets out of hand, and it’s too much for our patients, or their families, and we “shush!!!” others to keep the loudness down. We know when we don’t hear a sound, that is expected, and the agony that follows: whether it is the heartbeat of a baby presumably growing in utero or the amplified pulse of a limb that appears pale and without life.
We also hate the sudden stillness in a room previously filled with loud conversation, as someone announces a heartbreaking diagnosis, a sudden betrayal from life to death we weren’t expecting.
Sound, It has tremendous power over our lives whether we recognize it or not.
Photo by Jair Lázaro on Unsplash