"You're
crooked!"
Jolting words, but my friend Christine, on her own discovery path of faith and
career, was perceptive before all others. We'd
met, bonded, experienced blessings and problems well before she realized her
pastor's
heart. She cared enough to notice that I needed medical help for my tilt.
Several years later, it was appropriate beyond measure that she sat, touched, prayed and ushered me into a community of wholeness. From the hospital admitting room and all specialty rooms that lay beyond, I discovered an unheralded place where caring souls are mixed together in need and service.
Reclamation
"I knew you could do it!" Affirming words from Dr. T almost as soon as I emerged from anesthesia. His skill, humility, strength and hope for the future were key to my reclamation of self.
A week of concentrated healing reminded me of FAW LTIs, producing the equivalent of 15 years in vulnerability, growth, and bonding. Balloons and confetti, a yellow carrot-covered plush bunny, and a rebirthed Beanie Baby bunny praying with velcroed paws brightened my bed.
When it was time to relearn how to walk under the guidance of physical therapists, my basketball playing grandson was there for me, a silent presence offering eye communication, smiles, and thumbs up. My own cheerleader day after day after day.
Three-thousand miles away, our young nephew was also in physical therapy following serious brain surgery. Somehow the timing suggested that God's eyes are on the sparrows, no matter where.
Basic Needs
Life in a hospital gown is a great leveler. It doesn't matter whether a CEO or a laborer, a queen or a peasant, me or you. No one can tell the difference --- and each is treated the same --- like a VIP in need.
I expected surgery to be a lonely, solitary experience, but awoke to an unending attendance of support --- calm voices calling me by name and asking "What can I do for you?" Food, water, ice, hand-holding, sponge bath, vital signs, mail, newspaper, menu.
Reduced to the basics, I discovered patients and caregivers celebrate together what seems to be the least of all things. "We live in a world of poop and pee," said one nurse. "These are the daily celebrations of a universal life force. (Never had I seen such enthusiasm for so little.) And you can't go home unless you do it." Aaah. Celebrating a life force --- a basic that pleasured us in infancy and is forgotten thereafter.
As Servants
Through it all, the faces that greeted me at bedside represented a broad swath of the world's cultures, genders, ages. The ever-present question was "What can I do for you?" From surgeon to student nurses, physical therapists to housekeepers, all approached me as servants, drawn together for common purpose. Nothing needed for healing seemed too big or too small for this team to tackle. One added his own bonus: he sang love songs, golden oldies right through to Elvis's "Love me tender. . ." Each person a lifeline, day or night, on my healing journey.
Learning to walk with a new knee is another basic presenting me with daily occasions to celebrate. First day, twelve steps. Fifteen feet. Seventy-five feet. Stop counting, but keep walking. "Walk, walk, walk!" My basketball cheerleader found a way to beam me these three words from the Epcot computer center and buy me walking socks from NASA's Kennedy Center.
These things I learned from this hospital support network:
What did I have to offer in return? Only my body. Only my knee. And my appreciation. God blessed and multiplied it.
Jean Spencer is a long-time F@W participant, author, freelance writer, quilt storyteller from Trinity Presbyterian Church in Camarillo CA.