Watching Over Me

So I said I'd blog shorter more succinct blogs. Not sure if I can. I went to visit my neighbor Don after work today. Having watched my dear old dad fade over the course of six months, I was both prepared and scared for what I'd see. The hallways of hospitals have always for me seemed kind of familiar. The smells, the cleanliness, the busy nature of its inhabitants. The rooms are always a different story as you amble down foreign hallways and see glimpses of once vibrant people either
in the final chapters of their lives, or fighting the greatest fight.

I walked in on Don gently napping and was taken back by the sunken look in his eyes, the loose dentures in his mouth, and the 8 day growth of snowy white hair on his face. I recognized the familar machines and monitors around his bedside. The sight of him brought everything I knew it would-- right back. I could feel the emotion rising in my throat. we made some small talk, and I could tell Don was "all there" mentally. I told him I'd be right back and went out to speak with a rather portly, sour faced nurse, one I could sense immediately was going to be semi-confrontational. I introduced myself as Tim, and asked if she would get me a razor, a pan, and some shave cream. She asked me in an indignant tone, who was I? I told her I was Don's friend and I was going to shave that beard off his face. I then asked for her name, just to let her know I was not intimidated whatsoever.

Don looked closer to death than he did to walking out that door. 30 minutes and a shave later, the color ofpink was in cheeks, a smile on his face and his teary eyes of gratitude were looking for the right words to thank me. I told him he could thank me by eating, and in believing that he could, and would walk out of this room. I told Don that his survival now hinges on his attitude. Dinner arrived when I was there and I made sure he ate half of it---all this while he has no desire for food whatsoever. It was tough. I then went out and got a nurse and told her Don needed his bed cleaned, she again brushed me off. I went over her this time, and went to the nurse's station and I made it clear Don needed his bed cleaned. It was.

I stayed with Don for 90 minutes. He has no visitors. His wife Doris is sick with flu and cannot visit, making my visit even more fortuitous. I told him that he HAD to eat. He said he felt like a slice a pizza. I went and got him one and came back and spent another hour until visiting was over.

Now here's where I think there's something more to life and in fact someone watching......I walk out of the hospital, half broken with sadness, half filled with anger that Don wasn't getting the attention I thought he should. My phone began ringing, it was a 484 area code. I suspected maybe a brother? I think it was my father working in strange way. It was his old nurse from Delaware County Memorial, Donna Casey. A true angel, one who who treated my father like her own father. She brought him back from the abyss with patient love, nurturing and an excellent bedsie manner. She shaved him, joked with him, and even visited him in Media once my father made it out. I hadn't spoken to her in 18 months, and of all times, she calls me when I've just seen my father's past.

I told her what I had just left and how incredible it was that she should call me. Don has a little more hope, and a little more reason to fight tonight. He's still in trouble, but I bet he sleeps a little better with a smooth shave, and in the knowledge that he isn't alone.

Neither am I.