you might be surprised

I responded to a code blue in the heart center, and found myself with an elderly man who was worried sick about his wife.  He became my charge as she was taken to CCU.  His name was Stanley, watery red eyes and toothless grin, country as they come - his nervousness and tears welling up into a stream of conversation.


"You might be surprised that I'm so emotional.  It's just that Ruby and me is two peas in a pod."


We sat down in the waiting room together.  I remembered Dykstra writing about how chaplains have this unique gift of time to give.  Sitting with him was my job.  There were four other chaplains on site.  The pager was covered.  I was all Stanley's.  I turned toward him, with my hand occasionally on his shoulder. And listened.


     About his family.  "You might be surprised to know that I'm one of nine.  All my kin folk from bout 20 minutes up yonder."
     About his 38 years of work at the mill.  "You might be surprised to know how much I knew'd about mill stuff.
     About meeting Ruby at the mill.  "You might be surprised to know that we was married 3 weeks after I see'd her the first time."
     About the love of his life.  "You might be surprised to know that we is still in love after 41 years.  If you'd see'd one of us, then yous was gonna see'd the other. We's close like thet."
     About cooking.  "You might be surprised to know what I kin cook up."
     About every possible detail on how to make hamburger steak, tater pie and nana pie.  "You might be surprised what a bit of lemon does to sweet tater pie.....


And then his granddaughter arrived.  And I was dispatched to another call.  And then lunch.


But Stanley, you might be surprised how much I enjoyed listening to you.  You might be surprised how much your affection and tears touched my heart.  You might be surprised to know I'm still thinking about you and Ruby and hoping for a happy ending.


"If I were in your shoes, I'd go straight to God, I'd throw myself on the mercy of God. After all, he's famous for great and unexpected acts; there's no end to his surprises.  Job 5:8   Message Bible

just because

In our diversity class today we discussed Enrique's Journey by Sonia Nazario.  This is the true story of a Honduran boy who braves unimaginable hardship and peril to find his mother who has left her starving children to find work in the United States to support them.   Enrique travels on train, bus, river and foot thousands of  miles to reach her.  He is robbed, beat up, starved and yet he never gives up. 

It had been such an eye opening, mind expanding read.  I felt like I had such a better understanding of central America, and the challenges of immigration.  And then our teacher asked us "What images of God did you see in this book."  Wow.  We talked about a God that will go to any lengths to be reunited with us.  A God who never gives up.  A God who made unimaginable sacrifices for His children.  A God who is bigger than borders and boundaries.

And what does that mean for us?  As spiritual beings?  As Chaplains?

This is my favorite moment in the book.  In Veracruz, residents mobilize at the first sign of a train.  They stand along the tracks and throw crackers and water and tortillas to the outstretched hands of the migrants.  Ciro Gonzalez, thirty-five, taught his daughter to do this.  He wants her to grow up right.

"Why do you give them food?" she asked him once.  Her father said, "Because they have traveled far and haven't eaten."

Wow.  Not because God told us to give.   Not because nice people share.  Not because we have more than they do.  Not because we are good.  Just because they are hungry people.

I thought about that in the halls today.  Not because I'm a chaplain.  Not because it is my job.  Not so I can midas you for credit.  Not because I should.  Just because you are a hurting human being.  


Thank you Enrique.

“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’  Matthew 25:40 NLT

autumn

All of a sudden the air is crisp, the trees are a riot of color, we are eating soup and wearing sweaters.  It's fall.  More than just a season, it's a reminder that time is passing.  Inside the hospital our daily routine seems  never ending.  But outside, every part of nature reminds us that that we are moving forward.  When we started this program it was hot and green and muggy out.  Now it's different.  Things change.  Winter is coming.  Then spring.


At the end of this week we defend our level one competencies before a committee.  This has brought on a flurry of hushed typing and studying.  We each have to share a case study (visit with a patient) that shows our ability to perform at a specific ministry level and achieve certain goals.  It is the red leaves on paper, written proof that we are learning and changing.


Blessed be the name of God, forever and ever. He knows all, does all: He changes the seasons and guides history.  Daniel 2:19 The Message

mood swings

Just a slice of on call emotions.  Trust me, it will be more than enough.


16:40     Joking with Cathie.  I'm laughing.
17:50     I finish 3 stroke assessments and charting.  I'm pleased with my efficiency.
18:20     In the on call room with my lap top.  I'm hopeful.
18:45     On the phone with my 3 men.  I'm  thankful and loved.
19:00     I watch 3 minutes of Entertainment Tonight.  I'm bored.  
19:10     Pager goes off.  I'm reluctant.
19:12     Pager goes off again.  I'm a bit overwhelmed.
19:15     I enter a major care room.  Two adults are leaning over their father.  He is dying as I walk in.  They grab my hands and beg me to pray him out.  I'm praying and crying and so sad.
19:50     I am sitting in the chest pain waiting room.  I'm trying to be sympathetic, but I'm really irritated at the girl in the "bitchology" tshirt and the woman wailing "don't leave me gammy."
20:35     Another page.  I'm relieved there's a trauma so I can leave.
21:05     Another page.  I'm tired of being a chaplain.
21:52     I'm impatient.  Not going to say why cause it's so unchaplain of me.
22:20     I'm tired.  I'm lonely.  I can't wait to be by myself in my room.  I'm worried about the night.  I'm grateful.  I'm tired.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.  Hebrews 4:15  NIV

chaplain baker

Here is a ministry image of a baker.  In those dark moments, in the small consult rooms, at the bedside...


"The final step of care is reconnecting with the goodness of life. Moments of reconnection happen throughout a crisis and may be especially vivid and empowering in the darkest moments of acute stress. 


Raymond Carver's story "A Small, Good Thing" depicts such a moment, when parents, enraged by the death of their son, encounter the baker who has been pestering them with anonymous phone calls after they failed to pick up their son's birthday cake on the day he died. When they finally realize who has been making these calls, they drive to the bakery before the sun has risen and storm in to confront the baker. After bearing the brunt of their rage, the baker coaxes them to sit down and eat some freshly baked bread, saying, "eating is a small, good thing in a time like this".    Pastoral Care: A Postmodern Approach Carrie Doehring


Jesus.... took bread. Having given thanks, he broke it and said,  "This is my body, broken for you. Do this to remember me."  1 Corinthians 11:23 The Message

little big world

By now I have a well worn path from my driveway to the side door of the old wing of the hospital.  And once inside the hospital I sure do know my way around.  But that is all I know of Spartanburg.  It wasn't till last week that I even drove around the whole outside of the hospital - saw the entrances that all the other people come in and go out of.  My world here is confined to this very specific space.


In our diversity class we are reading about people who live far, far away from Asheville/SRHS 2009.  I can be sitting on the on-call bed or next to the oncology pond in my little world and have my world view expanded and stretched as I learn about the other.  I love how books do that!  And am glad for a class that picks books I wouldn't have chosen myself and gives deadlines so I finish them.


Through Toni Morrison's Bluest Eye, I entered the world of eleven-year, african-american Pecola in racist 1940 America.  On Enrique's Journey, by Sonia Nazario, I followed a contemporary Honduran boy trying to get to the US to find his mother.  Now in A Fine Balance I am exploring India in 1975 with four entertwined strangers.  With these stories I feel my world view opened.  I think about Enrique in the grocery store, about Dina when my kids are picking on each other, about Pauline when the pager goes off in the middle of the night.  They infiltrate my life and alter my perspective.


My world is growing!


I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in His whole world and delighting in mankind.  Proverbs 8:30-31 (New International Version)

under construction

There is a very special strip of highway 26, between exits 1 -5, just as you get into South Carolina.  For 5 months construction has been going on.  Cones are set up, the road is grated, asphalt poured, lines painted.  Cones moved to other lane,  everything looks great, but then the process is completely repeated. Day after day. The inconvenience, the delays, the frustration of slowing from 70 (+) to 30 mph.  On car pool days this continuous road work leads to incredulous musings.  "How is it possible that they are STILL paving this road?"


I read Lily Tomlin's quote this week.  The road to success is always under construction.  I guess it is true.  I never thought it would be possible that at 40 I would still be under this much construction. This Friday we will be 1/3 through this residency.  This week in class we looked at images of our pastoral care that we had written about ourselves as chaplains a couple months ago.  We talked about how much we have learned in that short time and how much we have changed.


In light of that, here's to bumps in the road....and to all those willing to be part of my construction process.


But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen.  2 Peter 3:18 NIV

crazy

Today I headed into Behavioral Health hoping to have some conver- sations.  Past the usual nappers I found a new lady sitting at the table looking out the window.  I sat down next to her, introduced myself, and asked how she was.  She looked me straight in the eye and announced "this place is making me crazy!"


GULP.  Keep serious look on face.  Nod until you have composed yourself.  Then breathe.  I was still amused after a couple minutes with her.  Surely my hospital couldn't have made her that crazy in 15 hours....


I have to admit though, there is a whole lot of crazy going on here. A lot of it outside Behavioral Health.
     The man in trauma bay 1 who thought it would be fun to drink and drive a moped 80 mph.  Crazy.
     The 15 year old girl who thought it would be cool to have unprotected sex.  Crazy.
     The 60 year old man, recovering from his 2nd open heart surgery who asked if he could be wheeled out to smoke. Crazy.
     The 4 chaplain residents who think they can finish the January on call calendar in the next 10 minutes without a few panic attacks.  Really crazy.


Nora Ephron said "insane people are always sure they are fine.  It is only the sane people who are willing to admit they are crazy."  That is a great reminder to me.  We are all crazy. Stark and raving at times. It just comes out in different ways.


I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths.  When you walk, your steps will not be hampered; when you run, you will not stumble. Proverbs 4:11 and 12  NIV

off call - baptism day

A crisp fall day.  great friends and family.  a favorite lake.  a precious boy making an eternal decision.

  

  

And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased."  Matthew 3:17 NIV

failure to thrive

During a NICU team meeting I heard the word "cachectic" used several times.  After failing to find it on wikipedia (I was spelling it kaketic) I found the all-knowing Dr. W and asked him for an explaination.  He defined it as "wasting away".  I learned that it is a common hospice definition, (my mom knew exactly what it meant.)  but in the NICU it is often used to describe failure-to-thrive babies.  The baby in question might be physically ok, and yet cachectic.

In his detailed description of the situation Dr. W made mention of Harlow and the terry cloth monkeys.  I nodded, because, of course everyone knows about Harlow's research(?).....Back at the office I wikipedia'd again and this time it came through for me.

It seems that Dr. Harlow conducted an experiment where he separated infant monkeys from their mothers a few hours after birth, then arranged for the young animals to be “raised” by two kinds of surrogate monkey mother machines, both equipped to dispense milk. One mother was made out of bare wire mesh. The other was a wire mother covered with soft terry cloth. Harlow’s first observation was that monkeys who had a choice of mothers spent far more time clinging to the terry cloth surrogates, even when their physical nourishment came from bottles mounted on the bare wire mothers. This suggested that infant love was no simple response to the satisfaction of physiological needs. Attachment was not primarily about hunger or thirst. It could not be reduced to nursing.

The study goes on to detail a second phase where some monkeys were only given the wire moms and others the soft moms.  The monkeys with the wire moms became cachectic, their lack of comfort and attachment revealed itself in their failure to thrive.

Our medical staff understands this.  They are intentional about being soft, cozy monkeys.  Eye contact between baby and caretaker promotes attachment.  Holding and support promotes attachment.  Security and love from parents combat cachexia.  (how you like me now mom?)

I love my new words!  There are days when I feel a little cachectic. And on those days I can be so thankful for the soft, generous, warm, nurturing people in my life who keep me attached and safe from becoming a failure-to-thrive chaplain.

For this is what the LORD says: "I will extend peace to her like a river, and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream; you will nurse and be carried on her arm and dandled on her knees.  As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem." When you see this, your heart will rejoice and you will flourish like grass.    Isaiah 66:12-14

hospitality

I am getting ready for company! Not just any company - VIP's from California.  (my mom and dad!) and then friends and family coming over to celebrate birthdays and baptisms and my new curtains.


I like having people over.  I like making sure the guest room is cozy, that there are warm blankets and a cool fan, little treats, clean towels, fun magazines, hot drinks, ingredients for a yummy meal.....  It involves detailed planning and people I love -my two favorite things!


In Images of Pastoral Care, Dykstra talks about the role of hospitality in the ministry of a chaplain.  It takes hospitality to another level.  I love the idea that hospitality begins with us finding inner peace.


What does hospitality as a healing power require?  It requires first of all that the host feel at home in his own house, and secondly that he create a free and fearless place for the unexpected visitor.  Therefore, hospitality embraces two concepts: concentration and community.

Keep on loving each other as brothers and sisters. Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!  Hebrew 13:1,2 NLT

helping to breathe

Tonight I was called to a critical care room.  The nurse explained the Mr. C was struggling to breathe.  They were preparing a mixture of medicines and transfusions and were going to try a *BiPAP to help his breathing.  If that didn't work he would be intubated and be on a breathing machine.  Mr. C was winded and panting and scared.  I stood next to him as two nurses took the nasal cannula off and fitted him for the BiPAP.  We couldn't talk, we couldn't pray.  I didn't know what to do.  Then I noticed the look of fear in his eyes.  Suddenly this 80 year old man reminded me of my little boys.  I sidled up next to him and put my hand in his.  He gripped hard.  I held on while the change was made.  Oxygen pumped in.  He began to breathe in a rhythm. He began to relax.  He hung on.


A few minutes later, when he had stabilized, his family was brought in.  I slipped aside as they came to him.  Through their reunion, he craned his neck around and then pointed to me.  His wife asked if he knew me.  He spoke haltingly.  "She held my hand."

...even there your hand will guide me,  your right hand will hold me fast.  Psalm 139:10


 *For my fellow novices - BiPAP stands for Bi-level Positive Airway Pressure.  It is a breathing apparatus that helps people get more air into their lungs. Created in the 1990s, it developed out of the C-PAP, which stands for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure.

least of these

The patient in 912 requested a chaplain.  That meant I had to leave the cozy on call room and my fruit salad and tucking my boys in over the phone, and take the hike to 9 T,  past dark, cold windows.  (Not in the mood.)  It didn't help that when I arrived Mr. B was the scruffiest, scrawniest man I'd seen.  Unshaven, scabs on his ears, dental issues galore.  He began his litany of ailments - schizophrenia, blood clots, head aches, leg malfunction, crushed discs, etc.  (Oh, when can I get back to my little, quiet room?)  Then Mr. B told me that he didn't think he would make it much longer.  "I've been saved, but I've never been baptized. Will you baptized me tonight?"  I immediately began to wonder how that would logistically happen.  Because he could barely sit up, he said he would just like "the basics".


I got a tiny cup with warm water.  I pulled my chair closer and ask Mr. B if he knew the story of Jesus' baptism.  We talked about Jesus coming out of the water and hearing God's voice announcing His beloved son.  We talked about how we need a Savior, and forgiveness, and hearing God's voice calling us His beloved.  I felt my heart filling with love as I took Mr. B's wizened hand in mine and we prayed.  And in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit I poured the water down his forehead.  I watched it trickle down his cheeks and into his hair.   I dried his chin, so humbled to see the look of peace on his beautiful face.



What a privilege...

And a voice came from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased."  Mark 1:11