…it’s just part of the job. you’re forewarned about being the person who walks into the room and potentially freaks the parents out and you understand the reaction because a visit from the chaplain just sounds like things are bad and that the last rites are around the corner, but i wasn’t sure if i’d ever have a conversation with a parent about it. after one of my first nights on call, i ran into a mother that i had visited with the night before when her daughter came into the ER as a trauma case (we’re paged for every trauma case no matter the severity). i asked about the little one and we talked about how much better she was doing. the conversation came to a close and we started to go our own ways when she called me back and said, “i never expressed my appreciation last night. at first I was really mad that they sent the nurse chaplain to see us. i’m so sorry- i didn’t even want to look at you at first. i just kept thinking, ‘get out of here my daughter’s not dying!’ but after a while i was really glad you were there.”
i loved her honesty and how we could joke about it all. and most of all it was really humbling. it reminds me that every time i walk into a room it’s a privilege and gift to be there. and that i’m there to be present however needed.
things aren’t always grim reaper though- it’s a lot of coloring with my kids who have cystic fibrosis while they get vest treatments and giving them a congratulatory high five when they do an extra mighty huff cough afterwards. it’s a lot of listening to fears and sitting in silence. it’s a lot of not having the words to say. it’s a lot of laughter for the four year old who tells you she’s going to be okay getting stitches because she knows karate and for the three year old getting ready to have a cut glued and a brace placed on her thumb who asks the doctors “can i poop first?” and a lot of admiration for the six year old who tells her mom how it is and that she can’t keep arguing with “my nurses” all the time.
but everything, from the tense times in the ER to playing the patient and getting fake IVs and shots, conveys the same thing- that all life is spiritual no matter what we don’t believe or believe because each one of us feels a certain way about life and has ultimate concerns and considerations, we all feel a certain way about how we want to be in this world, how we want to treat others, how we want to live and love. sometimes i think being in the hospital is the ultimate equalizer. it reminds us that we’re all fragile and that we all bleed, celebrate and mourn. and that life at its root is a beautiful gift that we get to share with each other.
