If I close my eyes I can still see Jane’s cute pixie face with its porcelain complexion, her thick, shiny auburn hair, and her sweet smile.  We were both RNs and we worked at a medical clinic.  When I first met her we were float nurses – meaning that we “floated” to whatever area of the clinic we were needed. We often found ourselves at lunch together and I came to know more about her over those lunches.  Jane had graduated from Wake Forest University and was not only a Registered Nurse but also held a Master’s Degree in nursing.  I wondered why she wasn’t doing more than float nursing but I never asked. I supposed she figured there was still plenty of time to pursue something more involved. I learned that she had two darling children and it was clear they were her focus in life.  Her husband was a handsome, successful attorney and they had a beautiful home in a nice section of the city. They belonged to a Country Club where they golfed and played tennis.  She drove a late model Mercedes sedan.  The truth was, she didn’t need to work. I figured she did it mostly because she liked people and she liked being helpful.  Frankly, I was a little jealous of her picture perfect life.  But I couldn’t help but like Jane. She was just a sweet as could be – a really good person and easy to be with.  She was also smart and well read. I enjoyed conversing with her and she kept my reading list exciting. 

Eventually, I accepted a full-time position in the Oncology Department. Jane continued to work as a float nurse and because of that I continued to see her whenever she floated to my area of the clinic. However, in this new perspective I came to have a different opinion of Jane. Whenever nurses put in for vacation or personal leave someone from the Float Pool would be contacted and asked to fill in for that requested time off. Those working in the department where the absence would occur were advised by weekly schedule who would be the replacement. In these cases, float nurses knew well in advance when and where they would be working.  I came to dread seeing Jane’s name as a substitute in our department for she was invariably late and if the stint was as long as a week you could almost bet that she would be absent at least one of those days – she seemed plagued with headaches and stomach upsets more than normal folks.  Being short staffed put a burden on everyone – more work, little to no break throughout the day, and generally working over-time – which led to exhaustion and frayed nerves. As much as I liked Jane as a person, I came to dislike her as a workmate. I can recall one incident in particular when she was scheduled to work alongside me. Our workday was already overbooked and I had arrived extra early to make sure things went as smoothly as they possibly could.  When the workday began there was no sign of Jane and I was annoyed.  Fifteen minutes into the day I received a call from Jane saying that she was not feeling well and wouldn’t be in.  I listened to her excuse and was chewing on my lip trying not to say anything I would regret. I breathed an audible sigh of impatience, which I am certain Jane correctly interpreted and, therefore, felt the need to embellish on the reason for her absence:

“Well, I was feeling nauseous this morning and so I took half of a Phenergan and now I’m just so tired and sleepy,” she whined. 

(For those of you that are not nurses, Phenergan is a prescription strength antiemetic/antihistamine often used to control nausea and vomiting. Its side effect is drowsiness.)  I felt a flush of anger and silently questioned her lack of judgment.  I mean, really?!  Like she hadn’t considered that this would be a side effect?  Why hadn’t she tried saltines, ginger ale, or Pepto-Bismol if she had really been planning to come in to work as she was claiming?  To say I was irritated would be an understatement.  I took a breath and said something like, “well, we want you at your best when you’re taking care of patients.”  But I confess that I probably did not say it as nice as I could have and we ended the call briskly.  Although she appeared in the clinic the next day and I was grateful, I still felt bothered by what I perceived as general irresponsible behavior.  In a later conversation with the Director of Nurses at the clinic, I realized that other staff shared my view of Jane.  Somehow this gave me permission to feel righteous and superior to her.  I saw myself as hardworking and dedicated. I saw Jane as undependable and fickle. Even though I would never have admitted my own feeling of superiority and my self-righteous judgment of Jane I can see it very clearly in retrospect.

Then came the morning when I arrived to the clinic, picked up the schedule and saw Jane’s name listed for my department. I inwardly groaned and prepared myself for whatever might come.  Eight o’clock came and no Jane. At half past the hour there was still no Jane and when I was paged I steeled myself to hear whatever excuse she was planning to offer.  Instead it was the Director of Nursing asking if Jane had arrived.  When I said “no” I could almost hear her eyes rolling and then she promised that if Jane had not arrived by nine she would try to send someone to cover for her by at least ten o’clock. And that is what happened.  When the new float nurse arrived I got her up to speed and we carried on with the already busy day. When I got to work the next day the Director of Nursing called me to her office.  I figured Jane wasn’t coming in again and we would be discussing a plan.  When I saw the Director’s face I knew it was something more serious but I had no idea what.  I cannot remember her words but somehow she conveyed that Jane had committed suicide the previous morning.  It seems that after her children left for school she went into her garage, got into her car, started the engine, and let it run until she died from asphyxiation.  Unfortunately, her children found her when they returned home from school that afternoon.  Jane had been dying while the Director of Nursing and I were feeling annoyed with her.  Now I was stunned and I knew the Director was, too.  I don’t know if there were tears in that moment but I know they came later.  I went back to work that day and went through all the motions necessary to make things happen but my thoughts were on Jane.  I wondered what on earth could have been so terrible in her life that would make her want to end it.  I wondered if my attitude contributed to whatever deep sadness she had felt.  I knew logically that I had played no part in her death but it didn’t feel like that.  I sat in my car that evening before going home thinking of Jane. And the tears came. I cried for her loneliness. I cried for her children. I cried for all those people who are hurting and cannot be comforted.  I cried for myself – for my selfishness, for my careless judgment, for my mean spirit.  And I vowed to remember Jane and the best lesson she ever taught – that you can never, ever know what people are going through. Sometimes they are in a private hell that you know nothing about.  Many years have passed since that day. Yet Jane is still there reminding me quietly to grant grace to others – no matter what things look like from the outside because you really just don’t know…