Lessons Learned
He Has RSV. Huh?
Twenty four hours. In the
pediatric unit of a hospital. Any time spent here with your child for a reason
other than visiting someone else is equivalent to eternity. RSV, or respiratory
syncytial virus, was the diagnosis for my nine month old. His breathing was
raspy and labored and the discomfort his little body felt from this struggle
left him so very restless and irritable. My heart ached watching him fight this
insidious enemy as in his hospital crib he attempted to sleep tethered to wires
and monitors. With permission, I lifted him from the foreign, strange-feeling
crib and cradled him in my arms where rest and a bit of sleep more easily
came. All night long, I prayed over this angel in my arms, as the
excellent but stretched-way-too-thin medical staff frantically ran from room to
pediatric room tending monitors and needs. Between RSV and the Rotavirus, on
that particular night during that particular year, every pediatric bed was
filled, and sick, hospitalized children were filling beds in other units. Two
children died. Rocking and praying my son through the night, there was
peace in our little room despite the overwhelming and overarching anxiety
wrapped around a stay such as this. The hospital night in that pediatric unit
was noisy with the cries of children whose bodies were in tremendous distress
and I wept for them through the night as their painful, fearful cries went on.
I asked our nurse why their parents were not allowed to hold these children to
calm their little bodies? Their parents were not able to stay the night, for
circumstances and reasons that demanded they not stay. These little ones cried
and cried alone, and I cried wishing I had more arms and more time to hold and
rock and pray over these other precious lives struggling with sickness.
Sometimes there simply is not enough time to do all that we need to do
because life is busy and hard and full of choices that frequently leave you
feeling that none of the options are really that wonderful. Perhaps this is the
place where we need to step in for one another and fill in those gaps with our
time. We all have hands and hearts and arms to hold and rock. We all have bits
of time here and there that we could offer up to help. All we really need is a
desire to do something about the cries filling the hallway. A desire to help,
to serve, to care, to reach into someone else’s need, to lend our hands, our
hearts, our prayers; this is all we need if we desire to be good neighbors. A
long night at the hospital became a well-needed wake-up call. We need each
other. We need to love more and care more. The world is crying.
