What I Was Looking For: Part One

Posted on 12.12.2011

Every Sunday night, I cannot help but to think about the next day: Monday.

Here is a glimpse of a day out of my week:

It is Monday evening now and I am on my way to the hospital to check on my patient in labor. I am inducing her. She will probably make more progress once I break her bag of water.

Ten minutes earlier I dropped my daughter off for her chemistry tutoring session and called my husband on my cell phone “hands free” to let him know that
I was on my way to the hospital. We arranged our taxi schedules and talked about our older daughter who is three thousand miles away.

As I hung up with him I began to think about the music video I’m working on that still needs tweaking. I like how the song has turned out. I kept hearing horns and strings at the end of this song that I wrote in 2004 and I’m glad we got to add that in. I am excited that it finally got out of my head and became a digital reality!

Riding down the freeway with the music in my head, I thought about my patient who was called today to come in to my office tomorrow. She has cancer. She doesn’t know it yet. I will tell her tomorrow. I just found out she has cancer today after I was called by the pathologist who will fax me the report. She will be looking for hope tomorrow when I share this news with her. How will I tell her this?

Just like I always have: I tell them the truth—not sugar-coated; the plain hard facts. I tell patients that there is no other way to tell them. I apologize for that, but
I tell them. I go on to share how we have already taken care of the next step for them and that is getting them connected to the right doctor who can deal with what they have. They usually will ask questions like, “How did I get this?” or, “How long have I had it?” I answer whatever questions I can. Then, by now there are often tears shed by them and by me. After all of that, I ask my patient one of the most meaningful questions of all: “May I pray for you?”

No one, in seventeen years of my medical practice, has ever said, “No.” At that point, the Holy Spirit comes and my patient leaves my office with much more than she came in with. She leaves with HOPE and FAITH and reassured of the love of Jesus. Wow. That is what will happen tomorrow…

After I finished at the hospital, I made it back home. My day will not end. My patient will be in labor all night. My family is well and at home has eaten the dinner I had secured earlier. My niece, two great-nephews and my Mom had already come by the house to say “hello” so it was nice to be greeted by them.

I was amazed once again at how today I got all that I needed to keep going with so many different scenarios happening at once. I felt good that my patient looked as if she would have a successful labor and delivery. I lay down in my bed thankful that God met all of the needs I had in order for me to meet the needs of others. I found it all. I closed my eyes for a while, slept in peace while I waited for that delivery call at around 3:30 a.m.

It was a great day.