In my family, summer is viewed differently from all the other seasons. Even though we continue in our days of labor, the warmer weather and longer days whisper relaxation and flexibility. Our conclusion is summer days are to be tainted with fun. However, recently my family had an unplanned summer time event that wasn’t fun, wasn’t fun at all.
Let me explain. It was the night before two of my adult children and spouses were to leave on a mission’s trip. To celebrate all the birthdays that were to take place while they were gone, I was hosting a huge birthday party with lots of food, everyone’s favorites. The celebration had just ended when my foster son of just two weeks started complaining of a stomach ache. I thought he had just overeaten, so when he starting vomiting I was not surprised. The vomiting lasted, although intense for a couple of hours, just what I thought would be the allotted time for either over eating or the stomach flu.
The problem was he woke up the next morning and by noon, it was déjà vu with vomiting and stomach pain. After a doctor’s visit, I was taking him to the hospital for possible appendicitis. I felt so bad for this poor child.
Here we were strangers and yet he was totally dependent upon me for support and comfort during his moment of crisis. He needed a mother, someone to hold his hand, rub his head, and tell him it was going to be OK and I wasn’t even sure how to spell his last name. Here we were, two fearful souls entering MedCentral. He a child racked with pain and uncertainty; me desperate to help and not even knowing how.
As the glass doors to the emergency slid open, MedCentral saw our hopelessness and, like angels, they reached out to rescue us. Every nurse, doctor, technician, security guard, clerk and unknowns in every department during our stay poured out kindness. They spoke so tenderly to him, it brought tears to my eyes. All of his needs were met and many of his wants. He lacked for nothing, not even attention.
Even my husband and I were treated royally. They brought in, not a cot, but a fully made bed so we could stay by his side.
It has been a week since his surgery and he is recovering wonderfully. It is actually hard to keep him within the physical restrictions. His medical identification band is still on his wrist. Actually he has no desire to take it off. Maybe because it is not such a bad reminder. Maybe it reminds him of a time when he was hurting and someone cared, someone loved and to someone he belonged.
Nope, MedCentral isn’t on my list of summer fun, but I was sure thankful for their care when summer brought an unplanned event. Personally, MedCentral, you deserve so much more recognition than my little column can give. It is not only your top-notch care but your unyielding compassion that sets you apart. Heart-felt thanks MedCentral.
