When You Come Into My Room

I am reminded daily that Inspiration is a cloak worn on the faces of many patients.

It can be easy to lose sight of the reasons why we provide our time; why we strive to extend our knowledge base; and why we stretch our waking hours to accomodate those requiring assistance.

Our daily mantra needs to include re-centralisation and a grounded abstinence from self-glorification…answers to clinical problems may lie in medical management, surgical intervention and pharmacological wizardry, but we must never forget the power of empathy – the most underutilized drug in modern medicine

When you come into my hospital room, you need to know the facts of my life
that there is information not contained in my hospital chart
that I am 40 years married, with 4 children and 4 grandchildren
that I am “genetically Lutheran”… with gut disease, like Luther himself
that I am a professor
that I teach teachers, priests, sisters how to nurture faith in the next generation
that I love earthy sensuous life, beauty, travel, eating, drinking J&B scotch, the theater, opera, the Chicago Symphony, movies, all kinds, water skiing, tennis, running, walking, camping
that I love loving, the wonder and awe of sexual intimacy
that I enjoy gardening, smell of soil in misty rain and scorching sun
that I have led a chronic illness group for 12 years
When You come into my room, you need to know the losses of my life
that I have Crohn’s disease and 3 small-bowel resections
that I have been hospitalized more than a dozen times for partial bowel obstruction
that I am chronically ill, and am seeking healing, not cure
that my disease has narrowed my life, constricted it
that I once fantasized but no longer dream about being president of Concordia or Mundelein College
that I can no longer eat fresh salads or drink a glass of wine
that I love teaching but sometimes have no energy left at the end of the day
that my Crohn’s disease is active in the fall and spring, cyclically in tune with my work
that when I was to give my presidential address to the Association of Professors and Researchers in Religious Education, I was in the hospital for surgery
that when a colleague read my speech, I felt professionally diminished
that I can travel only where there is modern technology … I need fiberoptic intubation
When You come into my room, you need to know my body
that I am afraid of medical procedures done at night …
I awake fearfully to 10 feet of air in an IV tube … I kink the tube and call … nurses come quickly … but I will not forget … and my body remains sleepless in any hospital
that I know the loss of 25 pounds, not recorded in my chart …
I had to beg for a subclavian catheter for additional nutrition before I received one
that I am afraid of fifth-year residents …
they tell me if my intestine does not open in 4 more days, I will have to have another surgery … information not helpful or useful
that I am on Pentasa, prednisone, Bentyl, Questran, vitamin B12, Relafen …
more than 20 pills each day … if I remember
that I hate rounds held outside my room, rounds that do not include nurses, my wife, my children,
my pastor, or even me …rounds done over me, around me, but not with me
that this body seems battered, old, vulnerable, tired … but still me
that I live by medication
that I live by technology
that I live by waiting, in the eternal “advent season” of doctors’ offices
When You come into my room, you need to know my heart
that I am emotional … a fully functioning feeling person
that I am afraid of the NG tube, sometimes wrapped in my mouth, clogged
that I fear surgery, each time
that I once felt I could not breathe in recovery
that I fear awakening from surgery with an ostomy
that with each partial obstruction I am anxious about another surgery
that I have lost confidence in my body
that I experience sadness and depression more often now than before the disease
that many persons chronically ill consider suicide, I am one of them
that the advent of symptoms is scary and debilitating
that I am angry at life’s unfairness: my brother, older, eats too much drinks too much plays too much and is healthy, always healthy
so too my wife
and it seems also my colleagues … like I once was but am no longer, ever
that I worry about the future … insurance
that I am anxious about aging and how I will cope
that I long for one perfect day, only one symptom-free 24 hours
that I lust for remission
that being sick is narcissistic, boring, dull, painful
that there are times I want to give up
When You come into my room, you need to know my mind and my spirit
that I seek meaning in suffering
that suffering is the nudge to the religious question
that I have faith and lose it
that I cling to my faith in spite of all evidence opposite
that I am trapped by the struggle for meaning yet engaged by it
that I am slowly coming to believe that meaning is what we bring to suffering,
not what we gain from it
that God, faith, meaning, ultimate concern, love, salvation are the being of my being
that I struggle with God
that Job was more just than God
that in my religious quest words are important, music is a mirror to my soul, and Eucharist, the stuff of mystery
that I believe deeply that I need to engage suffering
that disease forces the God question and nurtures the Godless response
that illness focuses the issue of death
When You come into my room, you need to sustain my hope
You need to know that I believe love wins over hate, hope over despair, life over death
that I hope against hope
that I pray and believe prayer heals
that some days I am able to make meaning of suffering
that I am more gentle, more compassionate, better with dying, more loving, more sensitive, deeper in grief and in joy
Sit at my ‘mourning bench” if you are my physician
listen to me, talk truthfully to me
you need to know all this if you want to heal me
And bear my rage about my disease
that I will never be cured
that my daughter has Crohn’s disease and is only 33 years old that she too has had her first surgery and lives with many of my feelings and I am angry and sad
And support my hope
that tomorrow there may be new medicines
that today you care deeply
that you will do your best
When you come into my hospital room, promise me presence
promise me a healing partnership
keep hope alive
it is all I have.