Two days again I was concerned when I discovered that one of our members had been moved from a ward room in the hospital to critical care. It was the right place for her to be, but it indicated her health was further compromised. Our conversation was brief because she was weak, but she squeezed my hand after our prayer.
Yesterday I returned to the glassed-in cubicle which is a critical care room and found her amidst the lines and monitors which give her sustenance and track her vital signs. A nurse worked quietly and efficiently while I was there, but respected my presence. Our friend spoke my name at the beginning and said "amen" after prayer at the end, but couldn't muster speech the rest of the time. I read to her from psalm 139 which offers assurance that God has known us since we were in the womb. Then the Beatitudes with the series of blessings and Jesus' powerful reminder that we are the light of the world. I assured her that she had been light for many people, myself included.
I walked out of the unit to speak with her son who was by her bedside when I arrived, as he was the day before. He told me that he watched as the monitors "picked up the pace" while I read to her and prayed. She seemed so still to me, but something was stirring inside.
As I walked back to my car I had a moment when the tears welled up and I just had to stop for a moment. I suppose I should be relieved that I am still moved emotionally by the suffering of others. I have been doing this for a long time but I hope I never stop feeling.
4 comments:
What a moving experience David.You provide such comfort and assurance as you walk with people through these most difficult times in their lives.That is why I was so angry this week when I read about the decision of a Picton hospital to fire their chaplain in order to cut costs.What short sightedness and lack of understanding about the human spirit.This chaplain had been at the hospital for years and provided wonderful service to patients and their families. She was given no notice, just let go.
How lucky you are to be able to walk this final journey with so many. When people get sick so often 'friends' stay away, often with the comment "I want to remember her/him the way she/he was". Is that really what it is? Or is it that they just don't know what to say. Having been a hospice volunteer for a number of years and taken the training associated with it, I realized how just being there and not saying anything (a hard lesson for me) is comfort in itself.
I always felt that we give our babies such love. affection and attention when they come into this world, we need to do that with those who are leaving. I say again "you are blessed (blessed with the ability to make people feel comforted) and blessed to be allowed to share the journey.
A while ago we decided to admit our son into the hosptial. It was a very emotional time, because our son was so full of anger at us over this decision. At one point I could not bear my son's or my own anger any longer and I found myself walking through the hospital searching for the chapel which had been moved since I had last visited it ten years earlier during my mother's final days in the same hospital. I did finally find the new chapel and the church chaplain. Ji-Sook Kyun, the chaplain, prayed with me and it truly held me together for one more day. Even though I had never met this person before, she was able to convince me that God would not leave my son's side even in the midst of so much pushing away, and even though I myself was seething in grief filled anger. There were moments while I wandered through the hospital that I truly thought they had done away with the chapel and chaplain altogether and I felt so completely alone.
Sadly chaplaincy services have been eroded in the province of Ontario for years. In many hospitals full-time positions are now part-time making it difficult for clergy to stay.
Spiritual support should be a right for people, not a frill. Hospital stays can be a frightening and overwhelming situation and often folk are away in institutions at a distance from their pastors.
I was in to the hospital nearly every day this week and our other ordained minister and parish nurse also visited. In the majority of situations there is one pastor for a congregation and they can't be coming and going from institutions.
In the case I mention friends are hugely supportive, but they can't enter the Critical Care Unit. These days people end up in isolation, which does scare others off. Hauling on the gown and mask and gloves is sobering.
The comment that we do a better job of support at the beginning of life than at the end is an apt one.
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