A night in the ER A lady and her cats

Theswingisyellow

A couple of nights ago, it was a slow night. There was a patient that was to be admitted to the hospital. His female companion was there with her two cats in a cat carrier. They were homeless. He would not be admitted unless I could some how provide some shelter for his female companion and his "kids" as he called them. He was taken upstairs to his room and I allowed this lady and her cats to stay the night in this ER room, much to the dismay of my fellow co-workers. I was able to do this as I function as a charge nurse. I just wrote some random thoughts and thought I would share. It was important to me and helped me to realize who all these people really and what is the most important thing in this world. I am no poet, nor do I strive to be.
Lady with the cats
No place to go
Only cold
Meow, meow
The old lady with the cats
My brothers and sisters don't understand
Homeless, dirty, fleas in tow
Kick her out, make her leave
My heart aches
Nothing will change anything
The only thing that matters is now
A place to sleep
Safe, warm and content
At least for now
My heart is joyous
Suffering is decreased
At least for now
"You can't change anything"
So I am told
My brothers and sister don't understand
My brothers and sisters cant see
Brothers and sisters please see
Our mother needs rest
And the cats.....and the fleas too.

It is things like this I find to be greatest lessons on my path. My mother needed care and I could see that and I am so greatful for this.
Thank you,
Todd

genkaku

When we went to visit her in the intensive care unit at the hospital, Frank's Sicilian grandmother was surrounded by cleanliness -- well-washed table, floor, cabinet and pale green walls. Frank's grandmother was old and I knew her as a feisty woman who had come to America in 1918 and who had once fed Frank and me what seemed like an endless meal in her apartment that was warmly cluttered with pictures of her kids, grandkids and great-grand-kids. The family photos were mixed with representations of the Catholic saints and heroes she believed in ... Mary, Jesus, Joseph -- most of them rendered by Hallmark. Every surface seemed to have a kid or a saint and sometimes both.

Before the meal, Frank had told me that when she was coming over on the boat with her two small sons (one of them Frank's father), an elderly gentleman had ventured to her below-decks cabin and offered to buy one of the boys. He was married to a much younger woman and feared he could have no children. Selling children was not so rare back then. As to the meal, Frank injected me with an old Sicilian saying: "Eat slow, but eat a lot." Frank's grandmother made sure we did both.

Priests would occasionally come to visit Frank's grandmother in her apartment, apparently imagining they were doing some good work. The old woman would chastise each and every one of them for being sissy priests -- not at all the kind she had known in Sicily.

Frank's grandmother was her own woman, a woman of respect, and now she lay ill in a hospital room that lacked any humanity, any dust, any pictures of Jesus or her grandkids. It was horrifyingly clean ... the kind of clean only a sissy priest could invent. After our visit, I asked Frank if we couldn't bring in just one picture or crucifix or votive candle or ... something the might have depicted a home that housed a woman who deserved respect. Naturally, Frank said no ... there were rules and there were reasons for the rules and ... well, the sissies were afraid Frank's old grandmother might die ... which, of course, is what she was in the process of doing.

We never did get to bring in some human artifact and shortly afterward, Frank's old Sicilian grandmother returned to her apartment, where she subsequently died. At the wake, they handed out little cards with pictures (Hallmark-style) of Mary and other people Frank's old grandmother revered. I've still got my card around here somewhere.

Jeffrey

My grandfather was dying. I had seen him when he was in remission but I should have visited him in the hospital though I was very psychotic that month hearing voices and even seeing things.

I wanted to bring him a winter university of michigan hat as he was an alumnus, but I decided that I wouldn't go because I was sick. Later my cousin said that he was always talking about the university of michigan football team trying to talk to the staff about him who had referred to him as "the little old man" to my cousin causing her to burst out in tears. Its done now but I wish I had given him that hat. If there was reincarnation I'd come back and do it.

Theswingisyellow

I guess there is no time like now. Just to be clear, this was so very special to me as this women was a complete stranger. But it was through this encounter that I saw no difference in this women, we were not separate. For the first time, I believe for me, I utterly identified with another person. She was my family, she was my mother, she needed care, compassion and love. The experience was made hard as my fellow co-workers saw only a homeless dirty person, separate from self. I remember becoming tearful in the car on the way home asking why they couldn't see her as I did, why were they so cruel with their intention and words to someone who was no different from them. So that was my experience, just trying to understand. Thank you.
Todd