So I am on day 4 of CPE. That's Clinical Pastoral Education. It is a requirement for all Masters of Divinity students (at least at most seminaries); generally completed the summer after your first year of seminary. So there's a kind of mad dash for a spot in a hospital due to the nature of the groups which are generally small and attempt to be as diverse as possible. Because I wanted to get out of the city for the summer and to avoid the mad dash for CPE sites in Chicago, I looked at a hospital near my cousin in central Illinois with the intention that I would live with them (remember that new baby back in August? Yeah, I get to spend the summer listening to him giggle and watching him grow!). So here I am. Day four of CPE in central Illinois.
Again, sorry for being gone for so long. It took a lot of energy to finish up school. Those were some of the hardest papers I've ever had to write. I keep trying to figure out why and it boils down to the fact that they all had an element - if not a majority - of the personal laid over the academic. I could punch out a paper the night before it was due in undergrad (ask my roommates, I did) and receive an A. That is more than impossible now. So of course, that doesn't do much for my confidence in my own intelligence. I got a C this semester. That hurt. But then I got an A and an A- in two of my other classes. So... that seems odd.
But back to CPE. I'm here. It is rough. It is also richly rewarding. Typical, right? (Woah on the alliteration of the letter R, there.) We talked today about crisis care. It was AMAZING and I wanted to go down to the ER and hug someone. Well, not hug someone. That would be unwelcome gesture and a wrong way to start a visit and... yeah. But you know what I mean.
My twitter update last night said something about understanding nuances and living in a world that is both/and instead of either/or. There are no tried and true formulas for patient care that work across the board. Everyone is different. Everyone is at a different place. To assume that one "protocol" (to be entirely clinical) works for one situation should not lead you to assume that it will work in the next situation. This is where my anxiety starts to build. I want formulas!! I want scripts!! I want to know exactly what to say to someone before I walk into the room. I am uncomfortable in the realm of the unknown.
So that's what I'll be working on this summer. And not to be vague or anything, but I'll be working on seeing what the dark valley looks like. How else can I assure people they'll be okay there if I have not truly experienced the journey through my own grief? (My advisor is wicked smart.) Well, that's the gist of it. I'm scared to death and more excited than I can begin to share.
So... that's my summer. The start of my ministry.... where I balance reality and hope (that's from my advisor again - another wordy gem for me to cling to).
Welcome to my world. Welcome to CPE. I'll be here all summer. ;)
1 comment:
About your C, I got my first one, no two, my first semester of undergrad. It hurt, but there was only room to improve from there. That's the way you have to look at this, it's new and different and you're only going to get better and better.
And, according to Tim, C=MD, reassuring, huh?
Post a Comment