A Word Of Un-Encouragement
For a brief stent, I had a job as an Operating Room Assistant.
Unless you know better, the career can sound glamorous. In actuality, it is a glorified cleaning job. It did however, give me access to the most coveted areas of the hospital and allowed me to witness highly intense and amazing life saving procedures. The operating room in many other countries is called the theater; which seems appropriate due to the day to day, antics, heroism, drama and showmanship I observed within those walls.
I remember on one particular day, I had just prepped OR 3 and I decided that I would use my limited patient access as an opportunity to encourage those nervous souls that were about to go under anesthesia. In part, my job was to help guide the patients bed into the room.
On this occasion, the anesthesiologist was navigating the patient's bed through hallway. Each of us were wearing scrubs and hairnets, as we went about our everyday business. The door to OR 3 opened, the bed was put into reverse, then backed into a room that was full of intimidating equipment. It was then, that I made eye contact with the patient. There was never a time that someone didn't come out alive, but I instinctively knew that a word of encouragement would go a long way in this moment.
Quickly thinking on my feet, I guided the foot of the bed into the room, and as the door begins to draw shut, I throw out the words, "It's almost over." I see the horrified look on the patient's face, then the nurses's face, and the door closes.
That's odd. Why did they look at me like that?
Then it came to me! In my head, I heard the voice of Doc, from Back To The Future; "Great Scott!" Did I just literally tell a patient, who was fearing death, that it was almost over? What a horrifying thing to hear as they put a mask over your face and you lose consciousness!
I wiped off my look of regret, regained my composure, and reasoned that I would have several more opportunities to bless others with words that would actually bring comfort. That's not what happened.
The subsequent encounter went like this: "It will be over soon" - only a slight adjustment to what I had previously said, that literally communicated the exact same thing as before. Which also produced the same troubled look from those within ear shot.
I am now walking down the hall, with my notably squeaky shoes, scolding myself for being a complete idiot. I have to stop this madness, reign in my socially awkward, one-sided chit-chat, and regain any ounce of professionalism I have left.
Despite my ability to reason, I decide that I'm not a quitter. I'm giving it another shot. It was as if my lack of common sense hijacked my brain and said, 'hold my beer', because this what came out of my mouth next:
"See you on the other side".
Shocked at my superior ability to say the wrong thing at the right time, I stood there frozen as the door to OR 6 hit me. Are you eff-ing kidding me? Did I REALLY just say, see you on the other side? What side was that? I am not even sure what side I'm going to at this point, as I am indisputably, the last person anyone wants to hear from as they go under the knife; I then retreat to the nearest bathroom mirror for a solid reprimand.
I quickly revised a version of the serenity prayer: God grant me the serenity to say the things that give comfort, the courage to say them, and the wisdom to know when to, JUST KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT!
Sometimes, it's knowing when to discontinue, make eye contact, quietly offer up a prayer, smile, and call it good.
The reality is, there have been times in my life where I was on the receiving end of these scenarios. Well meaning people offered warm words that would result in hurting rather than helping. I imagine that you can relate.
Whether we are on the giving or receiving end of these experiences, this much I know; It's all a component of the complexity of the human spirit. Sometimes we get it right. Sometimes we get it wrong. And part of what I love about the intricacy of life is, they both belong.
Just so you know, I eventually ended up with, "You're in good hands, I will see you soon".
- Jenn Howie
