LifeWorks Volume 12 No 9 September 2008
When you are getting ready to move time passes with the gush and ripple of a snow-fed mountain stream. It was like that for him as summer passed and the days shortened. Like an ageless schoolboy, he still measured time in sequential fashion, by use of clocks and calendars, by the passing seasons and the sports they brought. There was basketball in the winter, tennis in the spring, baseball in summer, and football in the fall. But with letters to write, notices to post, charts to duplicate, forms to complete, property to lease, furniture to pack, work to complete, and farewells to bid, there was no schedule for him this fall. The press of the move brought unexpected blessings—there was no time to grieve the pain of departing and those friends soon departed.
He had come here October 1, 2000 to take a position no one else wanted. He was the only psychiatrist on a ten-bed unit in a rural hospital. This unit, considered inconsequential to academic centers, serviced an area bordered by Houston to the south, Austin-Temple to the west, Waco to the north, and Lufkin to the east.
He worked seven days a week, Monday through Sunday. Everywhere he went he carried a cell phone. Calls for his services came throughout the day and night. After 343 days, he persuaded the administrator to find a locum tenens doctor to give him a break for a few days. When the hospital bureaucracy realized that no one else would work such onerous hours, the administrators became a little kinder and gave him a few more days off each year.
For the first time in his life, he sensed that he was filling a void that few in his profession would consider worthy of their efforts. He felt blessed by a wonderful staff—Jeff Baker, Susan Bice, Felicia Carmouche, Jan Childress, Barbara Courser, Sharon Davila, Shirley Higginbotham, Carroll Johnson, Kelly Kyle, Donna Patterson-Paddock, Liz Peterson, Carol Davis-Rios, Norma Rivas, Lyne’ Taylor, Brigitte Turner, and Stephanie Quintanilla—all took pleasure in helping each other help others. The administrator, Michelle Comeaux, who made certain that the unit received the highest praise from the Joint Commission and other hospital inspectors by precise dedication to bureaucratic rules and regulations, epitomized the staff’s diligence.
They were an informal and loving group who put patient care first, helped each other be the best they could, and had fun working together. Almost all the staff had a strong non-judgmental Christian faith. While they respected other religious faiths and those with no spiritual beliefs, they felt unreluctant to pray for and with their patients.
Mornings were spent in staffing. He would sit at the head of the conference table, the social worker to his left, and the nurse across from him. The patient would sit on his right. The patient’s case would be reviewed each day. Suggestions for therapy were completed and medication adjusted. Many times family members of the patient joined the group.
He felt confident with the nurses and clinicians, because each had the knowledge and assurance to suggest approaches to treatment and changes in procedure. They all recognized nuances in human behavior. The night nurses, those lonely, loyal warriors who had the awesome responsibility of protecting the patients’ health while the day staff enjoyed home and hearth, received the highest respect. The skill of the staff persuaded him to remain year after year despite the pull toward family and beautiful vistas.
Neighbors and friends provided consolation for family separation. God and her church comforted his wife. Bible study groups and the renewal of the church vows to uphold worship with “prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness” sustained her. She received special joy from the choir and their music. The warmth of friends that seemed irreplaceable kept them rooted to a spot they considered impermanent.
This staying thing was odd. He and his wife wanted to return to the Mid-Atlantic States to be closer to their family. The pull toward their children made sense. Staying at a provincial hospital didn’t. He interviewed at several eastern medical centers, but couldn’t find a hospital—large or small—in the Carolinas that satisfied him.
Ambivalence overpowered him. Each time he was on the verge of moving, he remembered his staff, his friends, and his church, and stayed. Eight years after he had come to this rural hospital, he could look back upon his experiences with a deep and sumptuous tranquility blemished by a reluctant conscience to return to a cool and verdant land.
He sat in his front parlor on a Sunday afternoon. It was cold and foggy that February afternoon and he had no desire to go out. A light drizzle penetrated the air. He had not felt too well since he played tennis with his son during the Christmas holidays. He fancied that the clock ticking in the kitchen, tolled for him.
The thought of his children wrapped a cold vapor around his heart. He could no longer tolerate his selfishness at keeping his wife from her loved ones. She brought him a cup of tea. “Please sit with me for a while, he said. “I want to read you something.”
You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-
necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward
a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or
the rain to pour or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
.
You’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing
There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored.
There are games to be won.
Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting.
Outside the drizzle had stopped. The setting sun gave the sky a pink luminescence. Raindrops dripped off the philodendron. She sat very still looking at far away places. “We’re moving back home to the kids, aren’t we?”
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