Unlikely Trio

We had nothing in common but our ages, and the fact that circumstances put us in the same place at the same time.

I was a student nurse at a hospital in the Chicago area. I was about 19 at the time.  I was an excellent student, smart and serious about my studies.  I had many friends, some of whom were male, but no boyfriends.  I may have had one date in my life at that point.  That would have been with the guy with whom I remained good friends, but who had declared that I was too much for him to handle.  I had a very quick mind and an assertive personality, although I was lacking in self-confidence in some areas. I was a bit overweight and did not consider myself attractive.

One of my patients that morning was extremely attractive.  He was a year or two younger than me with a well-muscled physique.  His facial features were chiseled and nicely symmetric.  Blond hair and blue eyes completed the picture.  But, his lovely athletic body had betrayed him.  A brain tumor caused him to be immobile.  He did not speak.  His beautiful blue eyes were not vacant.  He was still in there, but there was an expression in his eyes of confusion, fear and anxiety, as though he wanted to cry out, “Help me!  Please help me.”  But, he remained mute.

The third member of the party was an orderly.  I needed his help to hold the patient on his side so that I could wash and rub his back and change the sheets.  The orderly was also about my age….maybe a year or two older.  He had dark hair, nondescript features, some flaws in his complexion, and he was a bit pudgy.  I was fairly certain that he did not have a lively mind.

We were in the corner of a ward with multiple patients, which was at the intersection of the two hallways on the unit.  The nurses’ station was right at that intersection, so it was a hub of activity.  If the patient had been on his left side, with the door open and curtain pulled back, he would have seen people going by constantly.  Since we were giving care, the curtain around his bed was pulled shut, and the three of us were in this small private space.

And there in that private space with the intimacy of both the orderly’s hands and my hands on the young man’s helpless body, the orderly asked me for a date…..right over the patient…as though he was an object and had no feelings.

Doing so was way beyond unprofessional.  I wanted to scream at him that he was an insensitive jerk.  How dare he?!  Between us was a young man who would never again ask a girl for a date.  He would never kiss a girl or hold someone he loved in his arms.  He was dying.  I did not tell the orderly he was an insensitive jerk.  I quietly told him ‘no.’

Later I wondered if he was actually evil.  Did he purposely want to taunt a young man with whom he could not compare?  If the patient had been healthy, and the two of them had stood side by side, there is no way any female would have chosen the orderly over the patient.  Was he trying to rub in the fact that he was on his feet and able to ask for a date?  Or, was he just an idiot?  In any event, I was not desperate enough for a date to consider going out with someone who cared so little for the feelings of another.

So what was the outcome of the intersection of our three lives?  I’m certain the patient must have died within weeks.  The orderly probably didn’t learn a single thing and would have repeated his awful performance given the chance.  I have remembered that painful moment with sadness for over 50 years.

Bad Combinations

Procrastination and a bad memory

Facebook and a person who needs constant validation

Orange juice after mint toothpaste

Friendship and the inability to keep a secret

A sleepless night and a long “to do” list

Super glue and a hand tremor

My "Rosary" Ring

I am not Catholic, but I understand that rosary beads are used by Catholics as a guide to prayer.  Each bead represents a prayer.  I have my own version of “rosary beads,” and it is a ring.

About 20 years ago, my children gave me a ring with each of their birthstones in it.  The ring was configured to allow for additional stones to be added.  A few years ago when the ring needed to be re-sized for my aging knuckles, I decided to have the birthstones of my grandchildren added.  There were 8 at that point, so four stones were added on each side of the original four which represented my children.  Last year, a ninth grandchild was born, and a stone was added on the side to represent her.  I have room for 3 more stones before I have to get a new ring with more spaces.

Since adding the birthstones of grandchildren, I have been using my ring as a prayer reminder, and calling it my “rosary ring.”  When I look down at my hand, I am reminded to pray for my family.  Sometimes I run a finger of the opposite hand over the ring and ask God to bless my family in a general way.  More often, I look at each stone individually and pray for the person it represents.

In Isaiah 49:14-16, Israel thinks that God has forgotten her, but through the prophet, He says, Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?  Though she may forget, I will not forget you!  See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands….”

Could a mother and grandmother forget her family?  Possibly…not likely, but possibly.  I suppose I could become senile and not have any idea what my ring represents.

But, God will not forget those He loves.  They are not just on a ring, but engraved on His palms.

Beached

In the sand just above the lapping waves,

It lies helpless,

A lifeless gelatinous mass.

Cast on the shore motionless and dying,

Unable to crawl

Back into the nurturing brine.

Floating in the depths, it had stingers

Hidden in its translucency,

A way to protect itself.

On the beach it is defenseless

Quiet and senseless.

The embodiment of vulnerability.

I once lay on the edge above the waves

Of the life-giving sea,

Afraid to move back toward it.

Accused of using my stingers,

My past was with gossip

Dredged up altered and rewritten.

I lay motionless, vulnerable, in need.

Knowing I must

Return to the nurture of the sea.

Aware that the saltiness would cause pain

In my open wounds,

I inched back embracing it.

I could not, would not remain beached.

Life itself could be lost,

By avoiding the depths.

To bask in its warmth and buoyancy,

I needed to crawl back

Into a different part of the ocean.

The jellyfish died…..I lived.

Cataclysmic Events

Living in upstate New York, I rarely think about the slow-paced glacial retreat that influenced the landscape surrounding me.  However, every time I visit the Rocky Mountains, I am overwhelmed by the cataclysm that must have occurred in order for them to exist.  I wonder if people living here ever mentally strip away the snow and evergreens and look at the outline of the peaks with the obvious fingers of once flowing lava that brought about these massive shapes.

I picture what it would have been like to watch….from a safe distance in space, of course…as the earth spewed out its molten interior by either projectile vomiting or gradual oozing.  What awesome power was required to force the mountains to such amazing heights?

I imagine a divine conductor waving his baton and thunderous orchestration accompanying the fireworks….sort of like cannon accompaniment in the 1812 Overture, only infinitely louder and grander.  A sweep of the baton producing a gigantic plume of yellow and orange with a rumble followed by an eardrum shattering BOOM!

But today, out the window I can see white ribbons of sunlit snow wandering through the dark evergreens.  Skiers and snowboarders gracefully fly down the solidified once molten fingers with no thought to the unimaginable power contained by the fragile crust on which we dwell.

In the Terminal

I suppose that talking on a cell phone in an airport departure lounge surrounded by strangers seems like a “safe” thing to do.  No one there actually knows you, so knowing your business probably seems like no biggie.  But, do you really want to entertain those of us listening?  At one point, the cellphone talker walked out into the corridor and my eyes met with those of two other individuals in the vicinity.  I said nothing, but the other two made comments to each other about having to listen to this woman’s business. So, even though the lady repeatedly walked out into the corridor, thinking she had greater privacy there, I learned the following:

She is a single mother whose daughter lives with her parents.  They aren’t happy that she keeps taking off to follow her dreams leaving the child with them.

She works in the film industry and is currently working on a fairly low budget project.

Someone is very unhappy with her.  I am not sure if this is someone working on editing a script or someone waiting for the completed script, but no amount of begging “please, trust me” was cutting it with S……. (I’m not going to use her real name).

After a long and distressing phone call with the upset S……, she talked with a confidant, sharing that at the age of 40, she was questioning everything about herself and her career.  Should she back off or jump in with both feet.

She is in a relationship, and I am unsure how secure it is. 

She works on projects with her brother.

I don’t know if she was talking to her brother or her special friend when she encouraged him to remember that:  “The universe is working toward a higher order at all times.”

I was trying very hard NOT to listen to her and to read my Time magazine, but the printed page is no match for live drama unfolding.  There was a large white space on the page I was reading when she came out with this tidbit about the universe, and I wrote it down in the space, so I wouldn’t forget it.  I guess this is New Age thought.  It certainly doesn’t sync with what I learned about thermodynamics in physics class.

The flight was delayed, but the time passed rapidly between my magazine and the drama of the the cell phone calls.  I found myself wishing I could talk with this woman, but at the same time thinking, what would I even use as a point in common from which I could develop a meaningful conversation?  So I prayed for her then, and I have several times since.

Iphigenia at Aulis

This story should be before “Iphigenia among the Tauri” if the stories in the Great Book series were chronological.  It occurs when her father Agamemnon is at Aulis, apparently becalmed and unable to continue sailing towards Troy.  He and Menelaus and their army are on the way to attack Troy and attempt to retrieve Helen.  A seer has told Agamemnon that in order to continue to Troy and have success, he must sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia to Artemis.

Agamemnon is horrified by this and doesn’t want to do it, but is afraid of what others will think if he doesn’t show that kind of commitment to the cause.  He knows his wife Clytemnestra will never agree to this so he sends a message that he has arranged a marriage between Achilles and Iphigenia.  He later sends his servant off with a message to ignore his prior message, but the servant is stopped by Menelaus who then confronts Agamemnon.

Not having received the second message, Clytemnestra and Iphigenia and their entourage arrive expecting a wedding celebration.  Agamemnon is hoping to carry out the sacrifice without Clytemnestra catching on, but she meets Achilles and tries to talk with him about his impending marriage to her daughter.  When he indicates he has no idea what she is talking about, they are both embarrassed.

 Once the truth is known, Achilles swears he will protect Iphigenia.  He is distressed that his name has been used in this deception.  Clytemnestra and Iphigenia both plead with Agamemnon, but there doesn’t seem to be any way out.  Iphigenia decides that if it means success for the army of her father, she is willing to sacrifice herself.  Although the retrieval of Helen doesn’t seem worth her sacrifice, the protection of the army and her homeland is worth it.

At the moment when the knife is put to Iphigenia’s throat, she disappears and a hind appears in her place to be sacrificed.  Iphigenia has been saved by and spirited away by the gods.

Interesting quotes:

Agamemnon:  I envy…every man who leads a life secure, unknown and unrenowned; but little I envy those in office.

None of mortals is prosperous or happy to the last, for none was ever born to a painless life.

A hateful thing the tongue of cleverness.

Thine is the madness rather in wishing to recover a wicked wife, once thou hadst lost her—a stroke of Heaven-sent luck.  (In other words, Agamemnon wishes Menelaus would just say ‘good riddance’ to Helen.)

He who is wise should keep in his house a good and useful wife or none at all.

Menelaus:  …he is enslaved by the love of popularity, a fearful evil.

Clytemnestra:  An honourable exchange, indeed, to pay a wicked woman’s price in children’s lives!  ‘Tis buying what we most detest with what we hold most dear.