Mile Marker 446:
Cleverness is a gift; kindness is a choice.
--Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon, speaking at Princeton University’s Graduation
‘Tis the season for speeches and send-offs. Everyone, it seems, is going somewhere. Moving on.
Last Wednesday, I stood behind a podium as tall as I was. The auditorium was filled with doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, patients, and families (including mine).
At Mile Marker 446, I was honored to be speaking at Jefferson Hospital’s Excellence in Trauma Awards.
My voice echoed through the large room. I talked about strength, compassion, courage, and hope. I tried to explain all that my medical team had done for me. How, for the past 18 months, I’d been handled with such CARE.
As the words unfolded, I studied the audience. Nods, chuckles, even a few tears. But was I getting my point across?
Near the end of the speech, I spotted a friendly face in the front row. Dr. Nate. He looked different in his suit and tie. But then he shot me a smile and a quick wink. Yep, that was him.
As a resident, Dr. Nate embodied what I was trying to say. Day after day, his tall frame filled my hospital doorway. His disarming half-smile calmed my nerves.
He became so familiar that I never even bothered with his last name. Like Madonna, or Adele, or Prince -- he was simply Nate. The Best Supporting Surgeon on my amazing team.
He set the bar high for newer residents. I wouldn't let them touch my bandages or detach the Wound Vac machine without his supervision. And he was a MASTER of distraction. He used his sense of humor – along with a strong IV drip -- to keep me in stitches ! (The "ha ha" kind.)
But the moment I remember most came five days after my bowel obstruction surgery. I just couldn't bring myself to try solid food. I could not forget that excruciating pain.
With impeccable timing, Dr. Nate popped into my doorway. “Want to see a picture of your intestines?” he asked.
He wore a mischievous smile. It was lunchtime.
I glanced down at the untouched Salisbury steak on my tray. “Sure,” I said. “Why not?"
Nate bent down to show me. In the photo, my intestine looked like a pinkish-brown zig-zagging ribbon, gathered tightly by a thick, dark rubber band. Below the band, it swelled up like a bubble of inflated chewing gum. The source of the pain.
Nate pointed to the evil-looking rubber band. “See this part?” he said. “It’s not there anymore.”
So that was it. He’d given me proof. My intestines and I were free!
With that picture engraved in my mind, I started eating. Right then and there. Sometimes medicine just needs a little extra touch.
When the awards ceremony ended on Wednesday afternoon, I talked with my nurses and doctors. Thanking them for all they'd done -- however big or small.
"But I only took care of you a few times," said Nurse Leslie.
"You were there for me when I needed you," I replied, "and you're there for OTHERS everyday."
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Nurses Julie and Deb...
Where would I be without them?? |
Each person at that ceremony -- doctors, nurses, patients, and families -- had stories to tell. Snapshots of strength and sadness, courage and hope. Small moments they remembered. People and events that had come together to create HEALING.
I chatted with Dr. Nate, too -- this time, without the need for IV cocktails or intestinal photos.
I learned he has 3 kids. I learned he’s a cyclist who often bikes to work. I also learned that it's his last year here, that he’s leaving in June to take a research position at another hospital.
This third fact occupied my mind the whole way home.
Because when Dr. Nate goes, my hospital will lose a drop of its KINDNESS. Just one small spoonful in the vast ocean that exists there. But it will leave a ripple.
As a teacher, I've grown used to graduations. I know that endings are beginnings, too. Still, not a day passes when I don't think about my medical team. They are always there for me in the background, urging me ahead as I move on.
With Nate’s departure this summer, a new class of residents, nurses, and students will arrive -- full of enthusiasm and ready to learn.
Pay attention, I want to tell them. That bar is HIGH.
Because you are learning from the BEST.
Pedal on, Dr. Nate --
Wishing you a smooth road, a swift tailwind, and a safe ride!
