Posts Tagged ‘Parenting’

Sumner County Medical Center in Gallatin, Tenn...

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I stretch, groan, wake up to my alarm, which is set way too early for a Sunday morning. Did I really volunteer to pick up extra work hours this weekend?…wwwwhyyyy?? So I get myself out the door, and on the drive in to the hospital, I get this warm feeling in my middle, the closer I get to work. It has something to do with the quiet of the streets on a Sunday morning, the sun rising, and the knowing of what sorts of good things are going to happen within the next few hours. This is church for me, I remember.

This is the place where I get the most incredible soul feeding! It isn’t because giving of myself is so important, no. It is because I am a selfish being at my core, and I adore this feeling I get when I connect with another human on this level, and I simply must have more of it!!

I think of the last weekend that I worked. Mrs Stanich had just had her total hip replacement, and that day was the first day she would get out of her bed and take a few steps.

“Oohh….no, I can’t…I just can’t” Mrs Stanich pleaded for us to come back later.

“Now, Mrs Stanich, the doctor says we have to try this morning, and I promise you it wont hurt your operation. You will be a little bit sore, but that’s okay,” the physical therapist explained.

“No…no, I can’t. I’m not ready”

“Mrs Stanich,” I got on my knees to look at her eyes. I could see she was afraid, but I knew if she would look at me, I might be able to reach her, “these exercises are going to help you get home sooner. Will you try with us? Will you do it for me? C’mon let’s try, we’ll do it together.” She nodded, still feeling cautious, but I knew I had reached her. I was exhilarated, and as I glanced over at her grown daughter who was with her, I could sense that she was feeling it too.

I knew enough not to let her leg cross over the other, so I took my position under her right shoulder, the therapist on the other side, and we would help her stand inside the walker. “Now you are going to hold your walker, and Sarah and I are going to be walking right beside you. You’re going to be just fine,” the therapist comforted her patient.

We slowly, very slowly took Mrs Stanich to the door of her room and turned and came back to the side of her bed. I could tell, June wanted to stand up and cheer, but instead told her mom how proud she was of her. Mrs Stanich was beaming. We sat her back in her bed, removed the walker to the other side of her room where it would stay until her next therapy session.

“Are you two coming back again today? Please say you are coming back,” the frail woman pleaded.

“Now Sunday is only one session per day, but your therapist will be back tomorrow, and you will be in very good  hands, we promise.”

As I left the room, I had the most gratifying feeling inside of me. There is nothing for me to complain about when the greatest accomplishment of the day for this brave woman was making her way across the room and back. If ever there was a Christ consciousness, this was it. This was my best church time, where my soul was fed – no, where it feasted!

New Living Translation (©2007)
“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’

*Names have been changed, for patient privacy.


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A goat kid (Capra aegagrus hircus) resting und...

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Today I stopped at the smoking area talked with some of the other soldiers, and we happened upon the subject of country life. People are surprised to know that I grew up on a farm, ha, I dont know why. Hasn’t everyone tasted a mineral lick? Am I the only one who grabbed the tail of a young cow and let her drag me running across a muddy pasture? I learned to go straight inside a fighting zone and survive by wrestling with geese! Surely there have to be more of us out there!  Even when I talk to other adults who grew up on farms, I have yet to find one who helped their folks butcher rabbits and found that the prize of it was the bladder which looked an awful lot like a water balloon. And then I get in touch with those memories, one flooding in after another. It was a great time to be a kid. As much as I hated milking goats at 5am and 5pm, man, it makes for great stories I tell my kids…over and over…ha, yeah I finally have some of those hard-living stories to bore my kids with and make myself feel superior in comparison to their easy existence..just kidding babies! I am glad I grew up in my time, you have it a lot tougher in ways I didn’t have. I only hope as a parent that I can impart to you some of the simple joys I had growing up. It was really a carefree life, full of such richness!

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