Eyes that see the good in things: October 1, 2018

I learned a few things the other night when I took my husband to the Emergency Room again. The first thing I experienced was that familiar sense of relief, when we knew the medical professionals were now in control. The second thing I learned was that Google really isn’t all that helpful in self-diagnosis, and that it can make things much scarier than they really are. The third was that I really do need to stop trying to eavesdrop on conversations that are not intended for me, especially when I’m only hearing half the conversation.

We had already done some internet research earlier that evening and had already let Google help us with a self-diagnosis. Believe me when I say that we made certain our option was considered. While they may have considered it, it certainly didn’t take them much time to rule it out, either. They ordered some tests and I went to spend some more quality time with Google. You’d think I’d learn my lesson. Google worked as a roller coaster for me that night as I went from scared to not scared to really scared.

When I went back to the Emergency Room, my eavesdropping and assumptions only heightened my fear as I assumed the conversations I was overhearing meant that he had cancer. But he didn’t.  

Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long for them to come back with a diagnosis of pneumonia. Then it was just a matter of minutes while we waited for the IV fluids and antibiotics to drip through, before he was discharged. After the roller coaster of emotions that I’d put myself through that night, I was very grateful to walk away that night armed with a prescription for antibiotics. I also walked away with a heart thankful for medical professionals who provide patient centered care on a daily basis.

Maybe that’s why this story touched me so much when I read it this week. Meeting Stephanie Staples several years ago positively impacted my life and I follow her posts on “Your Life Unlimited: Helping Busy Professionals Bring Their ‘A’ Game to Work and Life.”

In her open and honest post called, “Do today what you might not be able to do tomorrow,” Staples shares how she went to visit a friend. But she qualifies the statement by saying that the visit wasn’t any normal visit and the friend wasn’t a normal friendship. She said they’d had mutual friends, had played on the same sports team and had been in the same line of work. The relationship was good until they did a business deal together. And then, it wasn’t so good.

The friend had said it was “just business,” but it was something that Staples took personally. Although the split was amicable, Staples said she was angry, hurt and upset and she said that if you had asked her, she probably would have no longer called her a friend, but more of an acquaintance.

Then, the unthinkable happened when the friend was given a terminal diagnosis. Suddenly, the past didn’t matter anymore. Everything that had seemed so important now seemed trivial. Although Staples wanted to send her a note, she didn’t know what to say. I know I can relate to that. When someone has been given bad news or they have lost someone important to them, what can you say?

However, Staples thought back to when her own father died and someone very close to her said nothing. It wasn’t just that this person didn’t come to the funeral, but she didn’t do or say anything to acknowledge his death at all. Staples said she still remembered how that felt almost 30 years later. When she asked her friend why she didn’t say anything, it was because she didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

So, thinking back on that, Staples decided that, for her, saying something would be better than saying nothing at all. Staples said she sent a short and heartfelt note, which resulted in her friend asking her to visit. By this time, the friend was very ill, in pain and on pain medication. Staples said she honestly didn’t feel that she deserved to be included in a space that should be saved for family and close friends. Staples had worked as a nurse and she was with her own father when the machine that was keeping him alive was turned off, so she knew what it was like to be with people when they died.

“I know what it’s like to be with someone who is dying,” Staples said. “Every time, it’s a privilege to be there. I didn’t earn the right to be in her room, yet here I was.”

In an effort to make the patient comfortable, the room was kept dark with instructions on the door not to turn the lights on. Her friend wore dark sunglasses and an oxygen mask, but she immediately smiled when Staples touched her hand to let her know that she was there. Then she spoke so softly that Staples had to lean in to hear her say that she was so happy to see her, and that she was so sorry about what happened between them.

They spent the next hour and a half together; talking, laughing and singing. Staples said she ran her fingers through her hair and gave her a massage—doing the kinds of things a friend would do. Before Staples left, she asked a question, “If there was only one thing you could tell me, what would it be?”

Her friend took so long to answer the question that Staples thought she’d fallen asleep, but she wasn’t sleeping--she was thinking. She was taking the question very seriously and she finally responded quietly, “Do today what you might not be able to do tomorrow.” This was coming from someone who knew what she was talking about. Just six months ago, she’d been fine and now she was preparing to die.

Staples received a text from her friend’s husband not long after their visit, letting her know the battle was over. Instead of spending her time wishing that things had been different, Staples chooses to be grateful that she was invited into “that privileged space at that extraordinary time and left me with insight that will make me a better person.”

Our visit to the emergency room was a typical visit for most people but I allowed my imagination to make things much worse than they actually were. However, I did learn a lesson there that night. I am grateful that my fears were not realized and I hope that I will continue to do today what I might not be able to do tomorrow.

We would love to share local stories about the good things your eyes are seeing.

Stop in to share your stories with us, give us a call at 947-2417 or e-mail us at [email protected]. Or send a letter to Eyes That See the Good in Things, c/o Allison Lindgren, The Transcript, 6 8th St N., New Rockford, ND 58356.