Nobody likes hospitals. They're depressing places full of sick people, rude CNA's and doctors in too big a hurry to answer your questions in a satisfying manner. They're also full of sad, anxious, praying family members who want nothing more than for their loved ones to get better, and for the staff to at least fake like they give a rat's ass about the fact that they're suffering. If the staff can't manage a good caring facade, i'd settle for her not acting as if a request for past-due medication is the inconvenience of a life time.
It's the praying family members that make me a little distraught. I do my best not to burden my extended family with the specifics of my beliefs and lack of beliefs, though i'm sure they're all aware i'm not a Jesus person. Several times over the course of yesterday and today, though, i've been joined hands with for prayer. These aren't your supper-time hurry-up-and-pray-so-we-can-eat kind of prayers; they're long, specific entreaties to the lord Jesus to fill the OR with his presence and guide the surgeons' instruments, and for his healing energy to course through her, focusing on where she needs it most, and if it please you, lord Jesus, to bring about a miracle to rescue her colon that she may live a complete life with her family, Amen.
As a non-Jesus person, to say that this was awkward would be a colossal understatement. I stood there uncertainly clutching a strange man's hand, looking down with my eyes open, trying to decide if this was an appropriate display of respect for another person's religious support of a sick person they care about, or if my involvement in the whole business was a high form of hypocrisy. I was conflicted over it for some time after it happened, and the more prayers i joined in on, the more conflicted i became. I didn't want to decline the invitation to pray with them, as that would've been uncomfortable and the last thing Nana needed before her surgery was distress.
By the last prayer i participated in, i decided my nonJesusness didn't matter; this was about Nana and the bolstering of her spirit, not my awkward feelings. I was truly touched that so many people had taken the time and energy to come to my Nana's room to pray over her and show love and concern for her. After all, my hopes were reflected in their prayers: that she be healed swiftly and that the surgeons find that small chance that her colon could be salvaged so that she could dwell as an intact person with us for many more years. I think sometimes hope is just another less specific form of prayer, with different (if any) intended recipients and i think that's okay. I don't think the Jesus people would've minded too much.
No comments:
Post a Comment