Sunday, July 18, 2010

contagious

In the hospital we are always reminded of germs.  Hand sanitizers dot the walls.  Posters in the elevators remind us to hygenically wash.  Racks of gowns and gloves cover many room doors.  Dreaded diseases are routinely discussed.  My germ awareness has extended all the way to my house - where antibacterial wipes now abound and where I whince each time one of my boys cough.  I don't want to get anything warned to be communicable by contact.

Last night I was called to a elderly patient's room with the warning that he was fading fast.  When I got there I joined his son and daughter-in -law.  They updated me on his status, and on the weeks prior.  How he had moved in with them when he could no longer be alone.  Then to a nursing home when his needs were more than they could meet.  Now to the hospital.  They were exhausted.  And sad. As tears ran down their faces I could feel a life time of love.  I saw the pain of having your big, strong, hero dad wasting away before your eyes.  I felt the loss of his place around their table this year for Thanksgiving, and then Christmas.  I knew their helplessness.  And I realized I was crying too. 

Grief is contagious.  Maybe the most contagious thing in the hospital.  One minute I'm in the on call room watching House Hunters, the next I'm trying to swallow that hard lump in my throat with a family I just met.  Their grief is transmitted by proximity.  It goes to a deep inside me to a place that no handwashing can remove. I caught the frustration, the weariness, the anger and sadness.  I was infected with their love.  I did my best to share it back with them.  Grief is contagious.

I hold my face in my two hands.
No, I am not crying.
I hold my face in my two hands
to keep the loneliness warm -
two hands protecting,
two hands nourishing,
two hands preventing
my soul from leaving me
in anger.
Thich Nhat Hanh

He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;  it was our sorrows that weighed him down.   Isaiah 53:3,4

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