Wednesday, February 2, 2011

A little reflecting after a very long day

Tonight, I sit here with the consistent beeping of the heart monitor keeping a steady rhythm. The soft hum of the IPC (intermittent passive compression) machine inflates and deflates around his "good" leg. I hear the chatter of the nurses at the desk outside of the door, beeps of iv pumps in other rooms and the rushing air conditioning. My husband is dozing and as I sit here in this dim, semi-quiet room I can't help but reflect. Perhaps I'm weird (well, there is no question there) but I love hospitals. I really do. Life takes place in hospitals.

Tonight, I left for a short time to get my children settled in at their grandma's house for another sleep over (they stayed with my mother last night and with my husband's mother tonight). I saw a family sobbing in the hallway. My husband's room is very close to the ICU. Two brothers, (I assumed they were brothers and they had a familial resemblance) where embracing one another, one brother comforting the other as they sobbed together. I wondered about their story - what terrible event had evoked such sadness. I assumed a loved one had passed on. I teared up a bit as I got on the elevator, said a prayer asking for comfort for the family and went on my way.

Returning this evening, when the elevator doors opened I saw over 20 people sitting in the lobby outside the ICU. The brother's were there also. Stress, sadness, anxiety and grief all filled the room. You could feel the emotions just walking passed. I realized that more than likely, whomever had brought all of these folks to this waiting room tonight, and caused the two brothers to sob and comfort one another, was still alive.

My friends, that is HOPE. What I witnessed in that lobby was LOVE. Walking down the hallway, seeing the caring nurses work so devotedly to serve their patients, that's COMPASSION. Watching the lady from one room over take her first steps on her new hip, that is a MIRACLE.

Many of life's most important events take place in a hospital. First hello's, last goodbye's, healing from tragic accidents, lives being reclaimed after severe illnesses, painful, old joints being replaced with brand new ones with the promise of a better quality of life, families coming together, some celebrating, others comforting, but sharing LOVE - all of these things, and many more, happen in this single building.  Each day the people that work in the hospital get to touch these lives, they get to comfort pain, heal the sick, share just a fraction of the love that flows in the tears of those facing some of the most difficult times of their lives. Perhaps they get to be the angel, sharing a glimmer of light in the darkest of days. Perhaps they receive a glimmer of light, in their own darkest of days.

This is why I want to be a nurse. This is why I love hospitals. I miss feeling ALL of that, the happiness and sadness, the empathy and compassion, on a daily basis.

It is my dream to become a nurse that prompted the start of my weight loss journey. As I pull yet another all-nighter, I'm reminded of my goals, which only re-motivates me. Now, I really should hit the books while I sit here in this quiet room, reminding my husband every ten minutes to hit his morphine pump button; but first, where's the coffee?

1 comment:

  1. As an avid FB fan and a fellow "fat girl," I also have RA. Your post has touched me, once again, on so many levels. I hope your beloved has a great recuperation and that his surgery is a success. I echo your love of hospitals. I'd love to be a nurse, altho. I suspect my RA knees and hips would throw an all-out revolt. Still, I'd like to think of myself as being a nurse.... Blessings.

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