DAY 16: A-OKOu…

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DAY 16: A-OK
Humanizing the sickly.
Thurs, Nov 21

Our society must make it right and possible for old people not to fear the young or be deserted by them, for the test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members.  -Pearl S. Buck

This morning I volunteered at the hospital.  I know, I’m really throwing you guys off – I promised Tuesdays would be my gold star for kindness days, but my volunteer shifts just keep having to get switched around for work!

I must admit, I really started my morning off on the wrong foot, and I would love to rant for a moment about all the mishaps that befell me, but this is a KINDNESS blog.  It goes without saying that my posts should generally try to remain POSITIVE!

My ‘problems’ were quickly put into perspective when I was walking an out-patient to some bathrooms down the hall- and he asked how my morning was going.  I sighed and said emphatically, “Not the best!”  He laughed and replied, “oh, well I just got into a car accident so that’s why I’m here.”  YEAH.  I know.  Don’t think I didn’t feel like a chump.

Moving on.  My regular post is outside of Emergency, but I tend to float, and my secondary post usually ends up being an entrance called the ‘Tranquility Entrance’.  Now, I’m not pointing fingers at the foundation, but the irony of that entrance being referred to as ‘tranquil’ is not lost on me.  When you hear the word ‘tranquil’ what comes to mind?  Babbling brooks, birds singing to one another, waves gently crashing to a sandy shore, perhaps?  Well, the sad truth is- the lobby of that entrance is heavy with, forgive my morbidity here, death.  Why, you ask?

One, what patients and visitors do not know- is that there is a secret door (concealed by a wall and strategically manicured shrubbery) directly adjacent to that entrance that leads to the morgue.  Funeral parlor drivers receive the bodies right in broad daylight from that door.

Two, the wheel-trans pick-up area is at the tranquility entrance.  If you know anything about wheel-trans, you know that the drivers are really great citizens of the world.  Their day’s work makes the lives of many elderly and disabled people much more pleasant, and allows them to live more independently.  That being said, show me a driver who is EVER on time.  And God forbid you find a door hanger/post-it thing stating they “missed you!”…. because you will be missing lunch, and possibly dinner while you are on hold trying to schedule another driver to pick you up.

Three, tranquility is in close proximity to dialysis.  Truthfully, I didn’t know what that was when I first started volunteering at the hospital, but over time I became more familiar with the patients of the dialysis clinic, and started asking very basic questions to my fellow ‘courtesy’ volunteers.  It didn’t hurt that I read Mitch Albom’s “The Timekeeper” – where one of the lead characters is going through dialysis.

Long story short…. dialysis is a horrible, horrible treatment to be sentenced to.  When someone goes into renal failure (kidney failure), dialysis is the only treatment that might save their life.  I don’t want to say it’s worse than chemo, but, it may be worse than chemo.  I am not the authority on miserable treatments, so please, don’t take my word for it, but understand that a fate of dialysis is essentially a one way street to the end of one’s life.

There is a 71 year old walker-dependent black woman who is a dialysis patient.  I wouldn’t say I know her, but I know her face and I’ve spoken to her before.  Despite her unfortunate circumstances, she’s remarkably pleasant and even has a sense of humor when the occasion arises.  Today, as I was about to walk by her down the hall, I squatted beside her and lightly patted her arm, and asked her how she was doing.  I regretted that question immediately!  Once she answered with, “I still don’t feel like eating” she followed up with she “had already lost 100lbs” – so I quickly recovered with “wow!” trying to reinstate that pride of being a slender woman (and detract from sickly, starving patient she innately went to identify herself as).  It worked, as she then chuckled, and even remarked that she was down to a size 6 – from a 20.

Taking the time to humanize a woman who feels like less of a woman and more of a number in the health system was extremely humbling.  When we see the elderly or the sickly on the street or subway tunnels and are annoyed by their pace or their indecision- how many times do we rush past in disregard?  What a challenge it could have been for them to get out the door this morning, or out of bed.  Perhaps today was the day they were told their partner wouldn’t live to see another sunrise?  Perhaps they’ve just been told they wouldn’t see another Christmas.

I apologize this post is so lengthy… but tonight, in recalling my delegated act of kindness, my interpretation morphed into something greater than this Noel Project.  My acts of kindness are sometimes on a whim, sometimes heartless or mindless (when we’re talking about the act itself), so tonight I want to make sure that my acts of kindness from here on out are not acts of politeness.  Tonight I have shifted my focus, and intend to seek out moments of true heartfulness.  WordPress tells me that is not a word, but if heartlessness is, than heartfulness must be.  Because after all, tis’ the season.

Goodnight, friends.  -xo

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