St. Pete's

I've been remembering with fondness today the people I had opportunity to meet during my two years of working in a hospital as a unit secretary and patient care technician (vital sign recorder and bed bath giver). I loved working in that environment, exhausting as it was, and was seriously considering going back to school to be a nurse, until one fateful day during which I almost passed out during a procedure--good thing I didn't have an important role in the room that day! Anyway, these are the people I most remember, and why:

Witold, my Polish patient who spoke very little English, but was always able to express thanks--he even bought flowers for Lani (the other tech) and me. Imagine, the PATIENT giving flowers. Who thinks of that? Well, Witold did.

There was George, who had sung with Sinatra. He was impressed that I knew some of the songs. George and his wife, Cookie, were crazy about each other, and she would come sit by his side all day, each day he was in the hospital.

Tom was afraid to die. He is my biggest regret--perhaps my biggest regret ever, but certainly of my time at the hospital. I made it a point to bring him the Times Union each day, but didn't visit as much as I would have liked to. He wouldn't sleep in the bed--I think because he was afraid he would not wake up. At least one of his nurses was also a Christian. It is still a mystery to me how both of us failed to share Jesus with someone facing death who was afraid to die. He died within hours of my friend, Witold. That was a VERY hard day.

Mr. Murphy passed out at least once a day--there was something wrong with his blood pressure or circulation that did not allow enough blood flow to his brain when he stood up. He always called me "Honey" and was always glad for a visit. I took all my lunch breaks with him while he was on our floor. The last I saw him was right after he had the surgery to correct his blood flow problem, and he was doing well. Once in a while, I wonder how he is now.

Miss Bev looked horrible when she was admitted. She was on the young side to be in our unit, and to have been so seriously ill, and many people said it was a miracle she recovered. I remember how friendly she was and how hard she worked at her physical therapy, even though she hated it.

Mary was so sick, she couldn't communicate, but I know she must have been quite a lady, for the attention and devotion of her family. She needed to have someone with her at all times, because in her confused state, she was liable to get out of bed, and if she did, would almost certainly fall. It is because this lady needed a sitter that I was able to fill out the paperwork for my job with the state, but that story is for another blog.

One man had been Babe Ruth's bat boy. He was blind as a bat and a little confused, but he was a die-hard Red Sox fan, and a pleasure to be around. I think his name was Frank, but I might only be thinking that because it's my grandfather's name, and he reminded me of him.

One lady's husband used to be the milk man in one of the local towns with which I am familiar. One day, the horses got tired of waiting for him, and walked back to Albany without him! He brought in some meatballs and homemade spaghetti sauce his daughter made. It happened to be a very hectic week, and I was grateful to only have to heat up the sauce and boil pasta for dinner that night--and it was delicious!

There was one lady who had a very worn Bible handy at all times, and at least one flock of visitors from her church each day. I was shocked to find a bag of chew under her pillow while changing the sheets one day. I guess I was supposed to confiscate it, or at least report it to her nurse, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. Guess I figured if she'll go through pains to have it in the hospital, she would certainly have it when she went home anyway.

The doctor (not medical, the teaching type of doctor) was another young patient. Not teenage young, but young in comparison to our normal 55 and over crowd of patients. She was glad to know that we could wash her hair, even though she couldn't stand to take a shower. It was the mood of a girls' slumber party when I was in her room. I enjoyed her company very much. She sent us a package after she was discharged, with wool scarves and thank you notes for each of her caregivers. It is still my first choice of scarves to wear in winter.

There are others that I have not forgotten, but the ones mentioned here are those that I think of most often. I may add to this in the future, but that's it for today!