AT THE END OF THE DAY

     My first job was working at the local hospital, in the kitchen.  I had heard that a lady had been in the hospital for a while after a man had broken into her home and raped her.  Then he did things to her that were so bad, I can’t write about it but let’s just say, she needed surgery. I delivered her dinner and as  I put her tray of food on her table, I  watched her very slowly struggle to swing her legs to the side of the bed.   Watching her struggle took my breath away.

     After a few months of working in the kitchen, I applied for a job as the ward secretary in the emergency room in the same hospital.  It was a small hospital, so we didn’t usually get the real serious stuff.  I was 18 and not equipped in any way to do this.  But now that almost 40 years have passed, I see that it was a great education.  This emergency room had only 3 beds and a casting room.  I saw a great deal. There were a couple of nurses that simply didn’t care for me and I felt the same way about them.  Then I would watch them in action.  All my of my angry feelings  melted when I would see them doing CPR on a person .  I saw the one nurse pick up a little boy about 2 years old.  He burned his feet in bath water that was too hot.  The kid took to her immediately and laid his little head down on her shoulder.  I never thought of this nurse as nurturing at all.   I saw her in such a different way holding that child and comforting him.

     One time a man was brought in after having a seizure and going through a plate glass window.  A piece of glass cut something inside his ear and blood was pouring out.  Immediately, they began working on him.  The doctor on call was not very happy or nice but I watched him work.  It was taking a long time to stop the bleeding and do stitches.  At one point, he had someone take over just before he fainted and fell on the bed next to the patient.  He was soon revived and he continued.  He finished the job and the man was admitted.

        After being there a little while, one of the doctors, who was married, asked several times if he could take me home.  I would always say no.  He flirted with me a great deal.  I was very uncomfortable with this and he didn’t seem to care. One of the nurses talked about the lady who was raped and was working the night she was brought in.  She said that she hugged her husband extra hard that night because it affected her so much.  She said the doctor, the one who kept wanting to take me home was the E.R. doctor that night.  She said that he was so good with her.  She said he was so kind and gentle.  He remained calm and so everyone else did too.

       I learned that we’re all human.  We all mess up.   The doctor didn’t deal with an 18 year old girl very well, but was perfect for a woman SO abused.  The nurse that didn’t like me showed such love to a little boy.  And the disgruntled doctor who wouldn’t even say hello to me, tackled a life and death surgery, passed out, but kept going to save a man’s life.  I realize that is their “job”and to leave all bullshit at the door, but I was still impressed.  How much have I messed up in my 54 years?  Let’s move on….My friend Kelly Camlin wrote, “In the end, only kindness matters.”