If you’ve never spent this time of year as a patient or a visitor in a hospital, count your blessings. I’ve spent two of my 52 December Holiday Seasons holding vigil in stuffy, sanitized rooms for family members that were balancing delicately on the precipice of this world and the next during this time of year.
The first time I spent December 25th in a hospital, it was after coming home from college for our Winter Break and finding out that my parents had seriously downplayed the seriousness of my mother’s pneumonia. Earlier that same year, Jim Henson, creator of The Muppets, died from a similar case of pneumonia that he, like my Irish Mother, had ignored treatment for until it became a life-threatening condition.
My mom is not a large person, but I was struck by how small and fragile she looked when I first saw her in that odd setting, with two tubes delivering precious oxygen though her nose while other machines tried to suction out the mucous and sludge which had already completely filled one lung and were working on the remaining one.
For such a small stature, she’d always loomed large over everything that our family was and that we’d done up until that time. When I first arrived home for the Break, it was clear that nothing inside of the house had progressed since she entered the hospital. The place was literally frozen in time, untouched by my father who seemed only to be stopping to sleep at home between his long visits with her each day. It was also odd to see her sitting up or nodding off at times in the horrible hospital beds that isolate patients in with metal side bars and cover them with the scratchiest of starched linens.
My mother was not the type to lie around in bed. Throughout my lifetime, she seemed always in perpetual motion – tending to some detail of life that usually had to do with someone else in the family, but that we all took for granted because she had always done it. The whole family system and any normality in our lives came to a screeching halt during that time (nearly a month) while she struggled to breathe and regain her health.
The hospital we spent that Christmas in was slightly bigger and certainly more capable than the rural facility that my father had pulled her out of after a week’s stay following her initial diagnosis in which she continued to get worse instead of better. Not surprisingly, the first facility was shut down within a year or two of this incident because of underfunding and lack of competent medical practices.
This larger facility did its best to bring some cheer and merriment to the patients and visitors, but anyone who has gone through a tough time during the Holiday Season knows that emphasizing the traditional glitz and tinsel and boughs of holly can quickly ignite already smoldering feelings of despair and desperation about everything that is being lost minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. A belated apology at this point goes out to the bedazzled group of volunteer choir members who we shut the door on as they shuffled from room to room in an attempt at do-goodery that, at the time, only served to remind us how we were missing out on the most wonderful time of the year.
Another common practice around these medical environments that fuels hopelessness, fear, and a complete abandonment of any power to control the insidious sickness that has landed in your life is the repeated reasoning around every life-saving intervention that is being delayed or completely unavailable at the moment. It’s usually expressed like this:
“Well, you know it’s the Holidays, right?”
This message was excruciatingly clear during the second December I spent huddled in a smaller room in a much larger hospital on Long Island. My fiancé’s father had to undergo emergency surgery after his gastrointestinal tract was perforated causing sepsis, a dangerous infection to his entire body. By the time we got there, the surgery had been completed and he spent most of the time under sedation in that similarly-styled gated bed while family members took shifts sitting in the room in case anything changed or anything was needed. We were told at the outset that staffing was extremely low, that the doctor wouldn’t be making rounds as regularly, and that all follow-up tests to see how successful the surgery had been would be delayed. After all, it was the Holidays…
My father-in-law (my fiancé did eventually marry me) was similar to my mom in that both of them had always put family first. He became a dad before finishing college, and dropped out to work multiple jobs in order to make ends meet for the quickly growing family. Eventually he became a police officer, and then a detective who had spent many nights, evenings, and Holidays away from the family he loved in order to keep watch and protect others. Now it was our time to keep watch over him because we simply couldn’t trust that the staff (the Holiday Staff) would make him as much of a priority as we would.
A quick aside here about any person that works within the healthcare system – particularly those who work in hospitals or around chronically ill patients every day. You are all angels. Selfless, amazing, modest souls that exemplify the best parts and pieces of humanity. I have the deepest respect and admiration for each and every one of you. During these times (and several others) in my life, the kindness and empathy and compassion that these folks showed to me, my family, and the countless others who filled those small, sterile rooms and gated beds was nothing less than miraculous. Extraordinary. Beyond comprehension. We saw the briefest acknowledgement of this during the darkest days of COVID, when these front-line workers were putting their lives at risk to save others – some of whom had brought the illness upon themselves by denying it. There is no amount of money or praise that could possibly do these humble heroes of healthcare justice.
Working for a hospital for over twenty years, I know that these folks are simply overwhelmed. I get it. The sick people will always outnumber the caregivers in a hospital – and the more urban a place is, the greater this disparity will be. I made the decision to give up all expectations long ago that anyone, even an excellent caregiver, would care more about my health and wellbeing or those of the people I love than I do. (by the way, I use this same principle about many other things in my life. From my kid’s education to my car, my house or my finances, I’ve avoided many unneeded resentments by simply reminding myself that nobody should care more for these things than I do).
So when my mom and my father-in-law were sick and unable to care for themselves, we moved in and cared for them. And they got better. Slowly and over time they moved on with their lives, as did we all, forgetting some specifics about the names and actions of the hospital staff members and our neighbors and friends that stepped up and helped us through those long hours and days of uncertainty and worry. Our two Holidays in the hospital have become the stuff of family legend and lore now, handed down through various tellings to those that lived through it and those that came after – in the hopes that somewhere there is a cautionary and protective lesson or talisman in the details that will keep us all home and healthy and together for future Christmas celebrations and other meaningful times.
Maybe we just revisit those times as a reminder to count our blessings. Because there are bound to be seasons of every life when it seems like the dark night kneeling and praying and hoping in our various Gardens Of Gethsemane will never end. I’ve had my share of phone calls and unexpected messages – the ones I never saw coming or thought to worry about – that instantly opened up the gates to my dark garden and brought about the sensation that the sky was falling and my world was ending and everything I had tended to so closely and which seemed to matter so much only hours before became suddenly trivial and pointless.
What a blessing at those times that the nature of everything in this lifetime is temporary. The dark nights invariably end, leading eventually to other temporary times filled with sunlight and warmth and the laughter of those we love and hold dear. All of it flowing and fluid and fleeting.
My message for you this Holiday Season is the same reminder I try each day to give myself: Don’t seek out presents for yourself – Be present for others. Have gratitude for the gifts you’ve received in your life – however small they may seem to you (clean water to drink, food to eat, a heart that continues to beat). If you’re going through a dark night – know that it will end, and know that there are angels among us, sent to help and watch out. Above all, choose love over resentments and hatred – a loving word, or touch, or maybe silence in those moments when your words and actions would cause more harm than good.
I’m not entirely sure where all of this came from or where it’s wound up. I certainly don’t mean to preach, or criticize, or rain on the snowy parade of people who love these December Holidays (I actually really enjoy this time of year, and always look forward to it). I don’t count my blessings or remain always present or come from a place of love in all situations – but I want to. I hope to. And I try my best, one day at a time, to be grateful for the things I have and the wonderful life I’ve been given…
Thanks Brian. I think everyone can relate to your words. Life is a roller coaster with ups and downs, twists and turns. It can be thrilling at times, and at other times it can be downright scary. We just need to constantly remind ourselves to appreciate what we have, love and help those around us when we can, and enjoy the ridewhile it lasts. Thanks for the reminder.
I had forgotten the Christmas carolers. Funny. I am so blessed to have everything I have in my life. I think of people in bad situations with no one and no power, i.e health insurance. They really need our prayers. I love the holidays, and am blessed to have my wonderful family. God bless us every one.
Thanks Brian. I think everyone can relate to your words. Life is a roller coaster with ups and downs, twists and turns. It can be thrilling at times, and at other times it can be downright scary. We just need to constantly remind ourselves to appreciate what we have, love and help those around us when we can, and enjoy the ridewhile it lasts. Thanks for the reminder.
Another inspirational and timely message. Thank you for being you! MERRY CHRISTMAS.
I had forgotten the Christmas carolers. Funny. I am so blessed to have everything I have in my life. I think of people in bad situations with no one and no power, i.e health insurance. They really need our prayers. I love the holidays, and am blessed to have my wonderful family. God bless us every one.