Saturday, October 22, 2011

oh yeah.

I tend to be someone who values length in writing -- I get caught up in the size of a delivery and somehow attribute strength in the ability to produce longer lengths of work.


From my friend Abram Lueders this week: 


"This isn’t a screed against hipsters, or so-called 'hipster Christianity.' Many of the people that get branded as hipsters aren’t trying to put on a phony identity. Some people (including Christians) have a passion for art, listen to obscure bands because they genuinely enjoy them, and wear retro glasses because they have bad eyesight, and thought they just looked good, dangit! That’s okay. But it isn’t a sin to wear dad shorts and listen to Casting Crowns. The chronically un-hip aren’t second-class citizens in the kingdom of God."


From my younger sister Dianne who works as a CNA at an "old folk's home."


There's a resident who cannot talk cognitively and rarely opens his eyes.
I have to be extra careful to make him comfy because I never know if he is or not.
Often he spits his dinner out and is completely limp when I transfer him.

At 4 o'clock this morning, I was turning him over and tucking the sheets around him.
Imagine my surprise when suddenly he mumbled, "Good Morning."
I jumped, "Good Morning to you!"
In 6 months of routinely caring for him, this was a first.
Second-guessing my ears, I stared and said, "How are you feeling?"
He opened his eyes, looked at me then turned to the football game on the tv, "Mgoodm."
It was amazing to hear his voice, I wanted him to keep talking.
For once I knew that he was ok.
He was not "out of it".
He was not in a void, mindless coma.
He could hear me.
And he could reply.
"Do you like this show?"
"Yup."
I really grinned now, but I had to finish my rounds.
"Ok, well, have a good morning!"

He closed his eyes, "Ok, you too."

Dancing down the hall, I tried to make sense of his shocking change in conscienceness.
Was it a miracle?
An incorrect dosage?
A wierd before-death experience?

When I got to the nurse's station, I pulled his chart and read, "..."
Well, I can't really say what I read.
You know.
HIPAA and all that.
Let's just say, my curiousity was satisfied.

My dear resident was ok.
He told me himself.



Both were excellent reminders that in order to be heard, their words didn't have to be a page and-a-half long.







1 comment:

  1. Can't always compare apples to kumquats. The long and the short of it is, keep writing. : )

    ReplyDelete