Stories

For the past 11 months I have oft shared the stories of those I meet in the hospital. There's something about stories, narratives, journies that, when we hear them, somehow change us. Not every story need end with a lesson, moral or act as a parable; because, some stories speak their own message just by being told.

I, personally, think that when we hear other peoples' stories we realize just a little bit more how we're all connected. When I hear a story about your struggle, I think back to my own times of struggle and how difficult it was. Suddenly, I feel a little bit more understood by the world and connected to others. A good story draws us in, captures our intrigue and builds a sense of community between us.

So, here are two more stories from the hospital. I'm sorry they're not happy, lift-your-spirits, or make-your-day type stories, but I feel they need to be heard. And, for me, they need to be told.

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A couple of months ago a woman was in a severe car accident and wound up in the ER. Every bone in her face had been broken. Amazingly, she survived, and after reconstructive surgery and three weeks in a coma she was allowed to wake up.

Upon waking, she saw her nurse, wondered where she was and later how she got in the hospital. Her first day awake, in came the physical therapist, occupational therapist, respiratory therapist, phycisian trailed by med students and several others who, for three weeks now, had routinely done there jobs providing her with care. Each one acted natural as if it were just another day.

But, can you imagine waking up to a strange place and strange people all who are milling about acting natural when you have 1,000 questions bursting in your mind. Her husband was thrilled to see her awake and to get to speak to her (though she couldn't yet speak because of a trache tube in her neck still helping her breathe).

"Something about a car wreck, surgery, weeks unconcious...?! What has happened? Why am I here? My whole life is now changed? What!? Hold on...everybody stop for a minute!" She awoke to people doing what they had been doing for weeks, but to her it was all new, fresh, raw, and overwhelming. Nobody stopped.

When I went in to talk with her, she was scatter-brained. Her mind going all different places and not one of them was the present. I encouraged her to slow down, take a moment of silence and start from the beginning. We began saying simple statements together, "I was in a car accident." "I almost died." "I was unconscious for almost a month." "I no longer have a right eye." "I'm scared, angry, sad, furious, and I feel alone."

It didn't take long for her tears to come. She never had a chance to process what had happened nor what was happening to her now. She and I made some good progress and even more with the chaplain who followed up with her. She is now out of the hospital, and I pray she continues to have help dealing with her traumatic experience and life change.

I wonder how often my, or your, busy life keeps us from saying the simple things in order to better deal with them. My guess is we don't do this enough. Perhaps you might try it. "My dad doesn't know how to show emotion, and now it's hard for me to." "I often feel inadequate but hide it very well from others." "These affect my relationships with others in negative ways."

What things do you need to say, or rather admit, to yourself?

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A 9-year old girl was recently eating lunch in her elementary school cafeteria. Suddenly, sharp shooting pain erupted in her head, and the teacher had to half-carry her to the school nurse. Vomitting began, EMS was called and the girl stopped breathing. The nurse breathed for the unconscious little angel who never met a stranger and often brought gifts to her teachers on her own gumption.

At the hospital she was put on the ventilator and the proper life-saving emergency medicines were pumped into her viens. When they finally got her "stabilized" the doc confronted the parents. The conversation was gut wrentching to hear. During it, mom said, "The last thing she said to me as she left for school this morning was, 'Love you mom, I'll be good at school today.'" The doctor was brilliantly graceful in telling mom and dad that their little daughter was brain dead and there was nothing that surgery or medicine could do. "I feel that her soul is already with God," said the doctor at one point to make his point clear.

I sat with them for two hours as they broke down time and time again like ocean waves crashing on their shoulders one after another. "How will we tell her sisters?" said mom (the sisters are 5 and 7). Every phone call check in from other family members brough back the pain and intense tears. It seemed like there just weren't enough tissues. Rarely have I seen that many tears and such brutal anguish on a person's face.

Before removing the ventilator and life-sustaining treatment, policy says that doctors must preform two brain activity tests 24 hours apart, both with negative results. So, the little girl was moved to an ICU and the parents underwent a day and a half of greuling tortorous grief brought on anew every time a medical person told them their daughter was still unresponsive.

Mom and dad consented to donate her organs to help other children struggling for health, and eventually, she was taken to surgery to have them removed. I cannot fathom the pain and ache in which they are facing. I can't imagine how the world would change after something like this. My guess is colors would be dull, tastes and smells would be bland, and humor would be a stranger. The world would be a little less bright. At least this is the notion I took from their eyes.

In this situation, some would say, "We never know what God's will is, or why God chooses to take someone from us, so we just have to trust God to know what God is doing." Where ever God is in a situation like this, I don't think God caused it. If God is anywhere in suffering then God must have some solidarity with those suffering. I hope this theology was mirrored to the broken-hearted dad when I said, "I believe God's heart is broken too."

I like the idea that when our hearts break, God's heart breaks too. Think of a time when you have been devestated by grief. Did you hear God crying with you?