Life (and death)

Had a rough day today. It's wednesday, my hospital day. There was a full load of patients in line for surgery and few nurses to cover all the quick work that had to be done prior to surgery time. My nursing partner and i scurried around inserting IVs, taking vitals, encouraging family members and the patients themselves w/ details of the surgery and their recovery. It was all in a satisfying day's work.

I don't work every day as a nurse. I am a stay-at-home mom. Except on Surgery days when the hospital I live at needs extra help for just a few hours those mornings. I most willingly go to help. But since my time is limited, I try to do as much as I can in the time allotted. I enjoy the fast pace and the feeling of being useful. I enjoy tending to people who are injured and are seeking relief and improvement to their lives. I love being a part of it all. The patients appreciate my heart-filled work and thank me for all my attention and care. What's not to like?

Around 8:40 we are informed that a clinical patient in coming in - a non surgery case. A young girl they say. Amidst the charting and putting away of my things I don't pay too close attention to the announcement. The chief nurse is in charge of new admittees and I really have no need to interrupt my activities. But when the gurney pulls in to the ward I certainly DO pay attention.

The girl is 14 years old and is curled up in a fetal position in the middle of the moving bed - unconscious. She's a big girl and i fear that she'll tip over and fall to the ground. I hurry to her side and accompany the orderlies bringing her to her room. Along the way I hear tidbits of her case - "Attempted Suicide", "Hanging", "trouble at school". I struggle to keep a professional expression on my face and continue my work with her. I tuck her into her bed, noting a slight fluttering movement from her eyelids. Perhaps she'll awaken? As I clean her face my eye inevitable are pulled down to her neck where I see the obvious marks of a rope compression. There are bright red, angry rope-thick marks on her neck where the rope had been pulled tight in attempt to take her life away.

Our chief nurse has a pleasantly soothing habit of singing hymns or choruses when she's at work with the patients. It's soothing for herself and for the patient. I've picked up this habit while at work. I mindlessly begin to hum, not realizing yet which song is coming from my heart. I steadily finish my work and take a last look at the girl. As I take in her closed eyes, shallow breathing and bruised neck, the words of my song break through my consciousness:

     "Te bendigo con mi vida/ y yo quiero ofrendarme a ti en oracion"
      (I bless You with my life/ and i want to offer myself to you in prayer)

A tremendous weight of sadness envelops me as I realize that my song sings of blessing our Lord w/ our lives. this girl's troubles were so great and her life meant so little that she had no trouble w/ attempting to throw it all away. She DID offer herself! But not to Life, instead to death.

I left my work that day with the encouragement to be more intentional in blessing Him with my life - with my very existence. Life is delicate and certainly fleeting.