Nomads

There is a hospital culture separating people into three classes: staff, patients, loved ones. It’s easy to identify staff with their uniforms and badges. Patients, well they have their uniforms too and are usually found in beds. But loved ones? No uniform apparel but uniform habits. During the first hours they may congregate in waiting rooms and cafeterias. Later they are dispersed to floors where they begin a semi nomadic existence.
I found myself there yesterday morning. I’d slept in a chair in the ICU then wandered down the hall to find a place to freshen up. For the record, University Hospital has lovely public restrooms. Splashing my face awake, I was greeted by a young woman doing the same. We recognized each other as “loved ones.” Her husband was still in surgery, mine just recovering; both men undergoing surgery for brain tumors in the left frontal lobe. We exchange details. When she heard that Harold had eight more she exclaimed, “How are you standing here?”

My mind raced back to the previous Friday – that day filled with diagnosis, and panic, and a wrestling with fear. Then forward to Saturday and the decision to choose faith and the blessing of calmness and peace. I shared that journey. Our eyes met. She understood. We were two nomads starting the day anchored by faith.

 Just then the door to the stall behind us opened and a tall redheaded woman emerged. She put her hands on her hips and firmly stated, “I’m here because my husband has terminal cancer. Don’t you ever give up hope! You run that race. There will be miracles every day.” Then she turned to me and continued, “What you just shared gave this other woman peace. You got to keep talking.” She embraced us then offered, “I’m praying for you both,” and left.
  
A singular experience. We did stay and talk a bit longer. This young woman has a seven month old baby. Her parents were in the waiting room holding him while she rushed in here to freshen up and put on make-up. I told her I’d held my grandson while waiting the evening before. She expressed the opinion that babies should be an essential element of surgical waiting rooms, as her son was giving a happy diversion to many people. I smiled – Exactly!