Emergency Surgery and a Made Bed: Lessons from the Hospital
The power of kindness still matters…
I am home, propped up on a pillow fort after an unexpected trip to the hospital. A few hours spent doubled over in pain yielded an ER visit (in my pajamas), and the weird and rare diagnosis of a twisted fallopian tube. Normally a centimeter wide, mine had become the size of a small balloon. And it was ready to pop. An impending rupture punched my speed pass to the OR.
Thankfully, the surgery and recovery has thus far been a success.I am grateful and relieved- it could have been so much worse.
Being a patient, though, is never easy. Vulnerable, you are expected to trust the competence and character of strangers. As a provider, I always find this experience instructive and affirming- teaching me humility, while reinforcing the commitment to regard my patients with the kindness they most definetly deserve.
Time spent staring at the wall in my hospital gown and grippy socks has reinforced some valuable lessons:
The power of kindness still matters. The constraints of modern healthcare are tough for everyone involved, but small acts of quiet humanity are still alive and well. A simple “thank you” was always met with an appreciative reply and a smile. A nursing tech gently burritoed me in a warm blanket prior to my MRI. The surgeon made me laugh. A lot. My nurse looked me in the eye and smiled warmly each time she entered the room. A medical assistant jokingly offered to scrounge up a beer for my weary (and worried) husband. These acts of generosity soothed my spirit and heartened my soul.
The power of community still matters. My people showed up. Their texts, calls, meals, and flowers held me fast. My kids mowed the grass and left my favorite meal in the fridge. Knowing how much I enjoy a beautiful bed, my sweet girl made sure my bed was made and pillows were fluffed for my arrival. I teared up at this simple, but powerful act of love as I climbed into my fluffy flax-colored cloud. I am humbled by and grateful to each person who took the time out of their own lives to enter into mine. May I, in love, do the same for others.
The power of covenant still matters. Love looked like my husband handing me a barf bag, feeding me saltines, remembering to pack my favorite face cream, and attempting to sleep in a teeny plastic chair. Nothing says love in action like a plastic cup of apple juice with a bendy straw after surgery.
The power of prayer still matters. The quiet power of God's presence and peace were made manifest as a nurse slipped the blue hairnet over my head, and wheeled me into the OR. This sense of peace was no doubt the product of the prayers of my people. My cup runneth over.
I know this isn't everyone ‘s story-and hasn't always been our story, either ( and that is a whole other story). BUT, decency and forbearance remain our greatest defense against selfishness, vitriol, and bitter discourse. May kindness compel us, and turn ours eyes to the beauty to be found - even in the most unlikely of places.
A heartfelt thank you to every person involved in my care. You know who you are.
