Compassion Meter

Dawn Adamson featured writer for Marquette Magazine.

I have a compassion meter.  This meter has become extremely sensitive and fine-tuned.  It happened while being a mom and working as a nurse in oncology.  As an oncology nurse and someone who now does hospice and home healthcare when I can, I developed a Zero-tolerance meter.  I don’t understand how people can be mean.  I don’t get the concept that we are all trying our best.  I want everyone to have a home, food, family, be loved, health and laugh at least once each day.

These meters are in conflict.  I thought about this today.  They are sort of like the tachometer and odometer on a car.  Darn my engineering brain.

The compassion meter runs at 100% when I am trying my best to help a patient.  It ran at 100% as a nurse when I gave it my all.  It runs at 100% when someone asks me for help.  And then the zero-tolerance meter kicks in when someone does something mean, hateful or stupid.  How can you do something mean, hateful or stupid when there are people that need 100% compassion and kindness?

Are you seriously upset because you got a flat tire?  I can be compassionate and helpful but do you realize that in the big scheme of things this is pretty miniscule?  Zero-tolerance meter at 25% because you yelled at me for taking so long?  I just left the bedside of someone who is dying.  Too young.  Way too young.

My other example of complete hatred, I’m not going to write about.  We see stories in the news about all the bad things that can happen.  I’m not going to write about it for a reason.  I realized that my zero-tolerance meter serves a purpose in that I stand up for what I think is right.  But when my zero-tolerance meter goes to 100%, my compassionate meter falls to 0%.

I remember one day when my son was in the NICU, I went to the window and watched the cars going by.  A little baby had just died and the parents that were there were asked to leave.  I will never forget this day.  It was snowing.  I looked out the window and thought, I’m glad you are in a car.  I hope you have a family and a warm house to go home to.  I just hugged a mom who lost her baby.  Please be kind to her.  This memory is raw to me.  I will never forget the feeling.  I will never forget the feeling of losing loved ones.

I’ve been a bit disappointed in my zero-tolerance meter.  The reason is because I don’t want that meter.  I prefer my compassionate meter at 100% in all circumstances.

So, I pulled the fuse on the zero-tolerance meter.

I’m not going to know if I’m revving my engine.  Tach is gone.  All I got is the odometer.  Compassion.

by Dawn Adamson

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