Blankets in the ER
Happy Thanksgiving! There was a beautiful Impressionist style Monet sunrise over Scarborough this morning. Lots of pale pinks and gentle light smudged into low clouds. I could smell the oregano I planted on my balcony this summer still growing strong near my Mary Tree. "I never stop thanking God for you. I always remember you in my prayers.” Ephesians 1:6.
I want to focus on just one thing I am grateful for this Thanksgiving. But it's a big one. It wraps it's arms around a lot of people and places. I am grateful for the almost eight hours I spent at the ER in Scarborough General Hospital last week. The highlight involved blankets! I will explain in a moment.
A few posts ago I shared how I heard a wonderful funny Buddhist monk speak about the importance of "care vs. cure". Turns out my time at the ER would teach me even more about "Care vs Cure". Now hospitals are a big trigger for me. Some of you who know me well, know why. But this time there were no big triggers. Quite the opposite.
In my crowded neighbourhood ER I had a "Merton 4th and Walnut experience": A mystical moment, not outside on a busy street in Louisville Kentucky, but inside a busy hospital in Scarborough Ontario. From the moment I stepped into the hospital it was like my heart got plugged into everybody else's there.
I had some pretty amazing encounters.
The first involved connecting with a young woman I met when I arrived in the ER waiting room. Her name I later learned was Darsheena. Turns out we would go through the whole ER process together sitting beside each other. After getting through registration and triage together (which took about 6 hours) we were both called into the area where we would see the doctor and receive treatment. We were surprised and happy to be going on together. Later, Darsheena would ask me to watch her purse and phone while she had to "pee in a cup". It's amazing how trust can grow so quickly sometimes.
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The last four encounters all involved blankets:
The first of my blanket encounters was with a young woman I also went all the way through the ER process with (except she was really "out-of-it" when we met). I learned she had likely overdosed. When I saw her after triage in our final waiting room, she looked a lot better. She had an IV in her arm. I told her she was looking much better than when I first saw her. She thanked me and then said she was so cold. I remembered being so cold in the hospital once. I asked her if she wanted me to find her a blanket? She said yes please. So I did. The blanket the hospital staff brought looked like one of those "Mother Teresa" flannel sheets. This is important later!
The second happened with a woman who was pulling a tall, wobbly, scary looking IV Poll into the waiting room. On the silver metal poll hung an ominous looking bag of blood and another clear bag of some other liquid. I could see blood moving through the tube into her arm. I heard earlier something about her having cancer. Later I got her a Mother Teresa blanket too when she said she was cold. I helped arrange the blanket around her shoulders because it was hard for her to do by herself. I surprised myself by gently moving her long hair out of the way so it wouldn't get tangled in the IV tubes. Was this the "me" so afraid of hospitals, Covid, and germs? Yes it was.
The third blanket encounter involved a woman sitting at the very back of our final waiting room. We made eye contact. Then I smiled at her and asked, "would you like me to get you a blanket too?" She said, "If there's an extra one that would be great." So I got her one too.
My last blanket encounter involved a thin young boy with a broken hand, and his father. That's all I'll say about that.
At about 4AM the doctor I'd originally flagged down for the first blanket (for the young woman who had overdosed)-- he peeked into the waiting room. We locked eyes for a moment. He was smiling as he looked around. I could see it in his twinkling brown eyes even though he was wearing a mask. He said, "Looks like everyone has a blanket now."
I looked around and it looked like a small community of Mother Teresa's Sisters of Charity!!! All those blue and white sheets. I was smiling behind my mask too.
Finally about 4:30AM a nurse told me my blood test looked okay and I could go home. I didn't get the ultrasound I was sent for, I got something better. Good new hospital memories to replace bad old ones.
While looking for a quote to close this blog, I decided on this one.
"Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts.” ―
Image credit hospitalityemporium.com
This Thanksgiving post is dedicated to my neighbour Major Grace for the cup of tea before I left for the ER
(I live under Grace!)
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(P.S. I'm fine, I have a new overly-cautious family doctor).
Also a shout-out to Sr. John Mary, SV who I later learned was born at Scarborough General!
