Hospital Lessons

Yesterday while the morning was still black and blowing icy winds, Tom and I drove to the Big City for another of his back injections. 

We had to travel over my least favorite thruway , then to a section which is always in the news for violent altercations, and arrive at the hospital in darkest downtown before 6:45 a.m. 

All week I'd reminded myself of what I've written in this blog--how  dreading things spoils potentially-special times. I tried, instead, to anticipate that something wonderful during that too-early-too-awful-thruway-drive Friday hospital visit. 

Not easy.

But we got out of the car and were glad to see various workers all around us in the dark--safety in numbers and all that. And just as the ice in the wind whipped away our bodies' car-warmth, we stepped into the hospital's Main Lobby with it's scattered bistro tables, couches, coffee bar, fish tank and even a grand piano, lid opened high. It was as though we'd entered a 1930's nightclub! Bluesy music playing, people sitting drinking coffee beneath the warm lights and laughter, greetings and kindness. 

Like walking into the Twilight Zone, only sweeter. 

In a violent part of town, here was not just a huge, antiseptic hospital, but a meeting place for the elderly, especially, to meet safely, companionably, with their neighbors. There was no sickness required to hang around within these walls.

One woman at the desk searched for any piece of paper stating that Tom even existed, while the 60-ish woman beside her spoke to someone else about switching the stations back and forth between American Idol and Olympic skaters last night, also pausing to speak joyful greetings to anyone who walked past. Finally, the woman helping Tom, (but not helping), told the smiling woman next to her that she could find no record of Tom's appointment and rather than panic, moan or roll her eyes, Joy Woman simply laughed and said, "Well, let's see what we can do."

And then Joy Woman looked at our last name upon the sheet Tom handed her and remarked what a wonderful name it was. And because there is a certain word within our name, she commented about that word, how good it must be to have such a word in our last name--that it was special. By what she said, this woman gave us a hint that she knew God, and had she not been so efficient and able to send us merrily on our way before we even knew what happened, we would have acknowledged that we, too, were Christians.

But as we followed an adorable elderly gentleman volunteer, we simply voiced our warmest thanks to Joy Woman and we came away feeling as though we'd just spent time with Tess from Touched By An Angel. 

And later, riding up and down the elevators and sitting in the child-sized chapel to kill time, I thought, "That's how I want to be--just like Joy Woman at the desk. But there's no way that's going to happen unless it comes from God, Himself."

And I was okay with that. I can trust Him enough to eventually get me to that place because He's brought me a thousand miles farther already than where I used to live before.

And you know? I'm looking forward to the remainder of the trip because with God, you never know what kind of surprises He's planned for you.

Especially when you switch from Dread to Anticipate.



******