12:12 on 12/12/’12
The Interstices
For some
strange reason, that word, “interstices” kept popping into my mind as I
reflected on what had recently happened to me at the Brigham and Womens’
Hospital in Boston
beginning on December 12, 2012.
The definition
of the word “interstices” is “the
small or narrow space between things or parts; crevice; crack”. Perhaps it was the coming together of my
physical and critical emergency with countless Brigham and Womens’ surgeons,
interns, nurses, caregivers and staff who joined their care and skill to attend
most completely and efficiently to my immediate need. All of these wonderful
people had lives of their own put to one side while they attended to my needs
of that very moment which indeed contributed to my continued life on earth. To
them all, I promise to keep in mind my beliefs and intentions which I expressed
because of what they did. It is from that I became aware of how time is racing by
and we can never fully retrieve a past event, nor can we really perform any act
in the future. All we really have is the present
moment. If we are ever to do anything, it must be done “now”. Now is the “interstice between time and
eternity. It is so important to take the
present moment to act, to do something nice to someone else, to say “thank you” and “I
love you” to those we should. It was my experience at Brigham and Womens’ that
helped me to understand this. Let me describe what happened in as great detail
as I can recall.
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On
December 11, I saw my kidney Doctor that afternoon. After my visit to my Kidney
specialist where I had been pronounced as making a good recovery from bladder
resection surgery on November 1st ,
I felt increasingly nauseous and had severe abdominal cramps in the
evening. Later in the afternoon, I discovered that my colostomy was not
emptying and I had the beginning of dry heaves, with some pain and pressure
near a spot where I had previously discovered a slight hernia. I called the
South Shore Visiting Nurse and she said if it persists, go to the Emergency at
either So. Shore Hospital or better even, to B&W.
My
son,Tom, literally carried me from Scituate to the B&W
in our ’94 GMC pickup. Tommy drove the
pickup truck while I was semi-doubled up on the seat next to him. I was given a
wheelchair at B&W and wheeled directly in to the ER where Doctor
Kimones tried to help ease the hernia. It was 11PM.
The
nurses , according to Tom, were all aware that the clock was approaching 12:12
on 12/12,’12 but I was totally unconscious as to how close to eternity I had
come. I was surrounded by Doctors,
Interns, Nurses and aids and was nauseous, delirious and rambling. At 6 AM, things had gotten worse and Doctor
Ron Bleday, the Doctor who had done my first surgery at B&W came into the
hospital. He was scheduled to do surgery on this day. I was given the high
contrast and a Cat Scan. They intubated me to prevent me from vomiting
into my airway, but they had difficulty
getting the tube past my esophagus. I was sleepy and very confused, very out of
it. The surgery, which had been planned for later in the day was moved up to
7AM. Tom called my other children, Claire, Grace and Chuck. Tom really didn’t
think I was going to make it. Tom was in the waiting room for 2 hours and
Claire arrived. I was placed in 8D in SICU, With Joe and Taryn as my nurses. I
needed intensive fluid therapy.
Four days passed in 8D.
I don’t remember much except weird bits and pieces. Nurses Heather and
Beth stayed by my side and there was this beautiful older Haitian lady named
Jocette who stayed with me all night long and we both sang spiritual hymns and
songs from Jamaica and Haiti. She was extremely tired and tried to fight off
sleep for my sake all night long. I am in debt to her forever for her care. I
was apparently heavily medicated and I remember striving with all my will to
remember my nurse’s names five minutes after hearing them, but I just couldn’t.
I remember Taryn more than anybody else. I was having real
traumatic dreams where I would slip into an alternate state, much like falling
into a day dream but which would turn into a horrible situation from which I
couldn’t extricate myself . One I remember was that I dreamt I was driving
along Rte 128 near Blue Hills and an earthquake occurred in which ground,
buildings, cars and people all got smeared off the road and I was left stuck in
my smashed car while everybody else, being able, were walking back to their
homes and all I could do was thrash and get panicked. Then I heard a distant
but clear voice say, “Charlie Charlie! Where are you? Charlie!” I can remember fighting to regain possession
of where I was. “Charlie! Charlie! Where are you?”
“Benson
…and…” I said.
“Charlie,
where are you?”
(Ice
cream, I thought), “Bergson’s Ice Cream”…”No… Brigham’s… Brigham’s … and …
Womens’” I shouted. “I am in the Intensive Care Unit at Brigham &
Women’s!!” I shouted, looking up to the right into the warm and welcoming eyes
of Taryn my nurse.
“Yes” she
answered. “And you’re going to be fine!!”
Thank God
for Taryn. And thank God for Joe, Sara H. Peterson, Dave Molway (whom I
discovered had been a student in my class years before), and Heather, Sara’s
angel, Laurie, Donna, Ellie, Beth and all the wonderful male nurses and all the
magnificent Doctors and Interns in Doctor Bleday’s miraculous team. Also
Jocette, who sat and prayed and sang with me all through the first rough nights
in SICU. And to all the other wonderful people whose names couldn’t make a dent
in my troubled mind, THANK YOU!!
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Thus, I
came to see that every single contact I made with all these wonderful
people constitutes the interstices in which one sees the
miracle of what takes place every day at B&W ICU. Every need and request
intercepts every day in the same way –yet- the magic persists; the magic of
seeing God’s greatest work on earth, healing, as each present moment races past
the face of the earth. Each and every person, be they Surgeons, Doctors,
Interns, Nurses, Aids, Staff or “all night watchers”; doing exactly what is
needed when it is needed to 100% efficirncy and caring, then leaving to do this
somewhere else perhaps never to be seen by you again.
The time
of contact races past and the moment becomes very difficult to recall or
retrieve. Yet, these moments were the most important in my life, and I never
had the opportunity to thank them all face-to-face from my heart. What I have
learned from these experiences and wish to tell everyone, is that after 76 years
of life, my only message is Jesus’ first recorded words to his disciples; i.e.,
his “keynote address” in Mark 1:16 where he says:
“Metanoiete ( Wake up!) the present
moment is the right
time; the Kingdom of Heaven is WITHIN you!
Believe this good news,” …
and time
whizzes past.
This is
going to sound really strange, but since B&W, I have come to a conclusion
that everyone is seeking happiness in their lives, but most are seeking it
where it cannot be found. Most of us seek happiness through attaining money,
possessions, health, long life, success, a good reputation, a “happy” marriage,
children that we love and are proud of etc… , all of which are truly good and
desirable for sure. But we so often fail to realize that the greatest treasure
of all, is within us; and within ALL others. It doesn’t feel like happiness, it
doesn’t look like happiness, it isn’t an idea we possess, but it is a treasure
we are asked to BELIEVE in. When one
person encounters another person with true unconditional and other-centered
caring, that is what I sense happens
everyday thousands of times a day at Brigham and Womens’ Hospital in Boston.
