Point of Reference
Posted Sep 8, 2010 8:17am
What a difference a day makes. The earth turned over while I was adjusting to a new version of reality and the sun confirmed this roll over merely by showing up.
It's been an interesting night of alternately napping and standing watch at the bedside of my little hero. I want to shake him and say, "Okay pal, let's quit playing and go home. I've had enough of this drama, right?" But he just briefly opens his swollen eyes, squeezes my hand and drifts off again. Nope...this is real. Damn!
We had a very pleasant night nurse who has been both helpful and informative and continues to tell me that he is doing so well. Really? I need some time to get that statement to line up with what I see lying in the bed there. A fever, a fast heart rate, breathing with a machine, draining life juices out the back...there is a missing link between what I am seeing and "really well". Generally, if someone tells me they are really doing well, I'm not looking at someone on life support! But over the course of the night and with the rising of the sun, I am slowly beginning to "get" it. It has everything to do with ones point of reference.
When getting up and going to work means you have to spend the next 8 to 12 hours playing with sick little people, why maybe this DOES look just Jim Dandy! That is the view from where they stand; their point of reference. What looks to me like the playground of the grim reaper, they see as another day of service. This is their world, not mine. So...here in this world this looks good? Suddenly faith takes on a whole new meaning here. Okay...if you say so. Faith is the evidence of things NOT seen...I'm there, baby.
The residents and fellows have just made their rounds here, and are also pleased with his status. Good to know, strange people. I believe you. I was able to tell them a few good things that happened during the night that lent some credibility to my new-found faith. Phil was trying to speak, but can't because of the vent. I managed to read his grossly swollen lips to hear "I love you", which was just wonderful and made me cry again. He was able to tell me his stomach hurt, able to point to the source of it and get it resolved. I was also able to understand when he asked if his surgery was over, and when I responded that is was, his eyes widened and he almost smiled! Then early this morning, he could not get his point across, and was getting frustrated. His hand started moving like he was writing, so I asked him if he wanted a pen and paper and he nodded. He then wrote, "Can you stay?" Poor guy thought I was leaving...but I assured him, I'm right here and not going anywhere. He drifted off to sleep, and is resting now.
It's all of 7:15 a.m., but I have drifted into the Land of No Time. No idea what today holds. Just watch. Wait. Wonder. This is a weird place I'm in...I'll keep you updated on just what else happens here with Me and Phil here down the rabbit hole.
It's been an interesting night of alternately napping and standing watch at the bedside of my little hero. I want to shake him and say, "Okay pal, let's quit playing and go home. I've had enough of this drama, right?" But he just briefly opens his swollen eyes, squeezes my hand and drifts off again. Nope...this is real. Damn!
We had a very pleasant night nurse who has been both helpful and informative and continues to tell me that he is doing so well. Really? I need some time to get that statement to line up with what I see lying in the bed there. A fever, a fast heart rate, breathing with a machine, draining life juices out the back...there is a missing link between what I am seeing and "really well". Generally, if someone tells me they are really doing well, I'm not looking at someone on life support! But over the course of the night and with the rising of the sun, I am slowly beginning to "get" it. It has everything to do with ones point of reference.
When getting up and going to work means you have to spend the next 8 to 12 hours playing with sick little people, why maybe this DOES look just Jim Dandy! That is the view from where they stand; their point of reference. What looks to me like the playground of the grim reaper, they see as another day of service. This is their world, not mine. So...here in this world this looks good? Suddenly faith takes on a whole new meaning here. Okay...if you say so. Faith is the evidence of things NOT seen...I'm there, baby.
The residents and fellows have just made their rounds here, and are also pleased with his status. Good to know, strange people. I believe you. I was able to tell them a few good things that happened during the night that lent some credibility to my new-found faith. Phil was trying to speak, but can't because of the vent. I managed to read his grossly swollen lips to hear "I love you", which was just wonderful and made me cry again. He was able to tell me his stomach hurt, able to point to the source of it and get it resolved. I was also able to understand when he asked if his surgery was over, and when I responded that is was, his eyes widened and he almost smiled! Then early this morning, he could not get his point across, and was getting frustrated. His hand started moving like he was writing, so I asked him if he wanted a pen and paper and he nodded. He then wrote, "Can you stay?" Poor guy thought I was leaving...but I assured him, I'm right here and not going anywhere. He drifted off to sleep, and is resting now.
It's all of 7:15 a.m., but I have drifted into the Land of No Time. No idea what today holds. Just watch. Wait. Wonder. This is a weird place I'm in...I'll keep you updated on just what else happens here with Me and Phil here down the rabbit hole.
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