Just Maybe
Rhetorically speaking, how many people have looked into the faces of people as they were dying? I suppose military personnel, first responders, and healthcare professionals make up the majority of the population that has seen the light go out in someone’s eyes. There are surely fewer people who have seen the faces of those who were watching them die, and then lived to tell about it. I am one of those people. Just maybe I learned something from the journey I almost made.
Happy Hunting Ground
I remember feeling hot and uncomfortable and complaining after leaving the recovery room from my 1st surgery of the night. A nurse left my left side and ran to get someone. A red-headed male nurse arrived and raised the head of my bed, and I fainted. Everything went white with a few black spots. It was as if I was lowered onto a spotted white horse for a journey to the “Happy Hunting Ground.” Then suddenly, I was lying flat with at least 5 or 6 people all with their hands on me. My blood pressure was 72/48 and the nurses called a Code Blue. I had internal bleeding and lost a liter of blood! I was totally helpless and totally at peace because I knew if I died, I was going to Heaven.
The red-headed male nurse was yelling at me, “Stay with me! Stay with me!” I’m not sure what they were doing, perhaps swabbing me down in preparation for my emergency exploratory surgery. As I have said to many, I will never forget the look on the faces of the people who were feverishly working to save my life. I felt compassion for them. I discovered a newfound compassion for health care workers that I think will stay with me for the rest of my life!
They cared as much as the people I saw when I came back from fainting.
The next thing I remember, I was in the ICU. The nurses had a calm and professional manner. They looked like they were working on a puzzle. I realized that I was the puzzle. They didn’t yet know how to solve the puzzle, but I had confidence they would, and they did. I could tell they were hiding their concern, but I could tell they cared as much as the people I saw when I came back from fainting. I sensed the relief in their voices when they realized that the transfusions were helping and the internal bleeding had stopped.
Sometime later, when they had me sit in a chair, I remember a small blonde nurse rushing to get me back in bed when she saw something she didn’t like on my display. I think my blood pressure was dropping. She didn’t hurt me, but I didn’t know a little nurse could react with the strength and the speed of a middle linebacker! Another nurse was helping, but the little blonde nurse was quick as lightning! I knew she was a human version of my guardian angel, and I knew I was safe on her watch.
Lastly, when I was moved to a trauma unit, the nurses and patient care techs never hesitated to help me, even with the most mundane, messy parts of their job. In summary, my life was not only saved by many people, but their desire to save and serve others makes me want to be a better person.
God gave me a glimpse of what He sees.
Recently, I read that God created time, then stepped inside of it to have a relationship with humankind. After reading this, I thought of a sermon I heard that said, “You can’t put God in a box!” I don’t see a contradiction: if time is a box, no one put God in the box except Himself, and He alone is capable of existing inside and outside the box simultaneously.
Likewise, when I was weak and helpless in the hospital, God placed me where I could see what He sees. While I was more dead than alive, so to speak, God showed me the faces of health care workers with looks of desperation as they were praying for God’s help to save my life. While I was unable to do anything for myself, God gave me a glimpse of what He sees when people who believe in Him are desperate for His help.
God let me feel what He feels.
I know it sounds strange that a helpless patient would feel anything other than desperation. One might think that the nurses would be the ones who feel compassion for the patient. Yet, through God’s grace, I saw their emotions and how badly they wanted to save a life. At that point, I had compassion for them. I felt more connected to God and humanity. I saw that God and nurses both don’t want anyone to perish.
Just Maybe
I honestly and seldomly show my emotions. Perhaps these healthcare saints don’t always show their emotions either, but everything happens for a reason. Just maybe, I need to show my emotions more often. Just maybe, I need to be a little more honest about what I’m thinking. If I stopped masking my sincerity, just maybe I, too, could be more like the healthcare saints who saved my life. Then, just maybe, people could see God in me and that, like God, I too don’t want anyone to perish. I may never save a human life, but just maybe I can save a soul.