Props

Remember when Xanga was a thing and you could count the eprops you got for a blog entry?  My, how the world has changed in 10 years...

I'd like to give out some props. 

To preface, my husband and I are both educators and have read all those articles, blogs, cards, and inspirational wall posters proclaiming the selflessness, devotion, hard work, and love of teachers.  I always kept notes from students in my bottom desk drawer, and on a really bad day, would pull them out and read them.  I won't try to replicate here the tributes paid to teachers by better writers than myself.  Besides, that would definitely count as self-aggrandizement. 

I don't know why I have read so many thank-the-teacher articles.  Perhaps it's because I look them up when I need a pat on the back.  Perhaps it's because I have so many teacher friends who email them to me or share them on Facebook.  Perhaps such articles are written because society can't bring itself to remunerate teachers adequately, so to ease their guilty consciences, people write public thank you notes. 

After our experience in the hospital with Arthur, I'd like to write a thank-the-medical-professional blog post.  I've met many doctors, nurses, and techs at many hospitals...enough to know that the care we received last month was incredible and that our caregivers went above and beyond their duties in many ways.

I was so afraid that the staff would mindlessly follow procedure, even if it didn't fit our situation.  This was the farthest thing from reality.  Without even being asked, the medical team took so many steps to ensure our physical and emotional comfort, even if it meant doing things differently than they are normally done.

The nurse who was with me from 7 am when labor was about to begin until 7 pm when our room was crowded with family members saying goodbye to Arthur deserves so many props.  She spent more of those 12 hours in my room than out.  She asked me to tell her about my first labor and spent a lot of time answering my questions and teaching me things about labor and delivery (and if you know me, you know that learning puts me at ease).  She was cheerful and chatty when I needed her to be, and calm and serious when I needed her to be.  She helped us make some decisions, and her advice was perfect.  I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she told me it was time to push...she was ready to coach me like any other woman she had cared for, but her eyes told me she knew all the thoughts and feelings those words would bring.  As I was holding Arthur, she put her hand on me and said "I know why God made you his mommy."  When she introduced the nurse for the next shift and left, I realized; these were quite possibly the most emotional 12 hours of my life, and she had shared them with me and now had to go home to cook dinner for her family.  Even as a teacher who never got to leave work at work, I can't begin to imagine.  So, to all you nurses who give of yourselves to walk alongside people in pain, thank you.  Like teachers, no one will remember or praise you for just doing your job.  It is when you spend and are spent on behalf of complete strangers, always with a smile on your face, that you touch lives.

The doctor who delivered Arthur has an incredibly dry sense of humor (something I appreciate).  His wry comments throughout the day kept me smiling.  If you know my sister, ask her sometime about their conversation just before Arthur's birth...the two of them got along real well!  In the minutes after delivery, he was somehow able to take perfect care of me without ever talking to me or saying or doing anything that distracted any of us from the time we had with our son.  Then he came up to us and hugged me, admired Arthur, shook my husband's hand, and spoke a few kind words.  He had tears in his eyes.  So, to all you doctors out there who can stay unemotional long enough to care for your patients but aren't so clinical that you can't be moved to tears, thank you.  Thank you for caring enough to not let your emotions rule, but for caring so much that you have those emotions.

I could go on.  There was the neonatologist who had been the one to tell us back in July that Arthur wouldn't survive surgery who came to see us late Monday morning after working all night the night before.  The nurse who helped us make Arthur's handprints and footprints after he had passed away.  The tech who made sure that my water cup was always full and thanked me for donating milk.  The charge nurse who stopped by to remind me to take my medicine before I went home.  The tech who rolled my wheelchair outside and didn't stare or say anything as I sat there, tears rolling down my cheeks, waiting for my husband to pull up in the car.  Props to all of you, for doing your job in such a professional and yet such a personal way. 

If every healthcare provider were like the ones who cared for us, maybe hospitals wouldn't be such a bad place after all.  Thank you to all you medical professionals out there who serve people with all your heart, even when it must cost your heart so much.