I think this shall be my last entry on this subject. In this last entry I merely want to offer a flurry of verbal Knick knack accounts.
1.) One of my nurses was a Muslim. I found that hard to get my head around given the inflammation of the Muslim world against the what little remains of the Christian West right now. This nurse was exceptional in their care, and I was glad to be under their supervision. However, I couldn’t help but wonder what the mindset might be if it was known that I am an ardent Christian Nationalist?
This is something that constantly went through my mind. If these people knew my Christian convictions would they still care for me? If they knew that the love of Christ requires me to command all men everywhere to give up their self-centered lives and turn to Christ would they still provide the same care? Maybe they would.
I went into this surgery nervous because of all the hostility I received from the Michigan media in 2020. Would anybody have heard about that? Would they remember and connect the dots? Would that matter to anybody?
2.) For some unknown reason we had a hospital social worker show up and desire to have a conversation with us (Jane and I) about some of the matters I’ve brought up earlier in this account. I can only imagine how she ended up in my room. I am fairly certain this visit was not protocol. To her credit she immediately introduced herself as the hospital social worker. As such there was no need for Jane or I to guess. She implored us to converse her concerning some of the matters we had conversed with the hospital staff about concerning the strangeness of some of the events that had happened. She assured us that there was a wall of separation between her and the surgical/ICU staff so that she could be an advocate for us.
Sorry … as long as the same person is signing her paycheck as is signing the paycheck of everybody in the hospital I’m not getting all conversationally intimate with a stranger.
PLUS… Did I mention she was a “Social Worker?” In my world telling me that you are a social worker is like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. It’s like someone insulting my wife and mother in one breath. It’s like pouring salt into an open wound. It’s like making a meal out of the Holy wafers used for communion. It’s not a good thing in my world to be a social worker. I have, over the course of almost my whole life, had to deal with these people and I have yet to have one not negative experience. Their training is steeped in humanism and their logic is made of overcooked spaghetti.
Now, social workers, as far as training goes, are not any worse than most of today’s white collar professionals filling the posts in modernity, but they do seem to be the cream of the crop. All our white collar professional core has been steeped and saturated in humanist categories but very few more so than social workers.
The conversation didn’t last 30 seconds. She told us she was there to help us. We told her that we found that odd since there was nothing we needed help on. She said, “I sense that you don’t want to talk to me.” (“Jeepers, your spidey senses are awesome,” he thought sarcastically without saying.) I said, “you are correct. We are not interested in talking to you but thank you for making the effort to come up and speak with us.” She wanted to know what the reason was for our indifference. “Maam,” I said, “for my whole life you people have been nothing but a headache to me, but again I thank you for reaching out.” She wrote her name on the blackboard and told us to contact her if we changed our minds. I had Jane erase that name and number the minute she left so that I would not have to see it. The conversation didn’t last 30 second. I don’t like social workers and I don’t mind that throughout my life they have not liked me.
3.) I went home right from the Intensive Care Unit. Something they said which was very very uncommon. There were a good many things about this stretch of time that were very very uncommon. Indeed, the uncommon-ness of much of what happened and my stay could be a theme for those six days.
4.) A personal word of thanks to the surgeons and doctors. One particular Doctor would show up every day at appx. 0630 and the first thing words that would fall out of her mouth was “you look amazing.” It became a standing joke because the morning after the flatlining event, when she swept into the room I deadpanned… “wait … don’t tell me … I look amazing.” She protested that on paper I did look amazing. Sigh … it has been my life’s lot to look better on paper than I do in real life. 😉 The surgeon who did the surgery and who suggested he might try it with his eyes closed showed up in the room once for a few minutes. He seems to be the quite type. A man of few words. But, hey, I wouldn’t care if he is a deaf-mute as long as he can cut and sew the way he can cut and sew. From my understanding and research, he is one of the best in the world on this particular surgery. I am thankful to God that he was in Michigan and that God in His sovereignty linked up surgeon with patient. His #2 was also quite able and the ICU Doc who ran the floor was also exemplary.
Doctors are like ministers. We all have a ego the size of Texas. We each are in a calling where a good deal depends on us being right and anybody who is being depended upon to be right is someone who must develop a confidence level that strikes most other mortals as “arrogant.” I worked with airline pilots for 15 years and you can throw their egos into the same category. This explains why the good Doctors, the good Ministers, the good pilots exhaust themselves in seeking to hone their craft. The burden of needing to be right for the good and sake of other people and for the glory of God is not a light burden. Happy is the man in these or other like careers who can finally push on through to the other side and be able to, at one and the same time, retain their confidence while also donning a genuine humility.
Someday I may get to that point.
5.) I should end by noting two more folks. The first is the Nurse Practitioner on the day shift. I found her at one and the same time extremely concerned for my well being while at the same time maintaining the professional distance necessary. I always believed that she was in my corner and was genuinely concerned for my well being.
The second chap is someone who without I am not sure I would have gone through with this surgery. As you can well imagine all of this, from the patient’s perspective, is a high trust venture. As the patient you are putting your life in the hands of strangers. That is even more challenging when the culture is no longer homogenous in its worldview orientation. This chap is a cardiologist in another part of the country and I came to know him via my writing ministry. With 20 years of practice under his belt and a familiarity with everything I was facing I could turn to him over and over for his expert opinion knowing that he was a man who both confessed Christ and who shared by world and life view. He was someone I could much more easily trust. So, at each juncture I turned to him about the medical counsel I was getting and at each turn he patiently held my hand and gave me assurance. I am pretty sure that I would not have gone through with this surgery if it was not for his voice in my life at this time.
You can understand my being overwhelmed by God’s providence and goodness. At each step of the way He provided what was needed.
