Good morning, from the mountains of Kentucky. I hope you are having a wonderful day wherever you are. I am writing this morning from what has been my view for the past three weeks, the hospital. I may have mentioned in previous posts that my elderly mom was admitted to the hospital in July. She came in with multiple lingering complications, and a few new ones. She is eighty-six and a fighter, and a prayer warrior. Faith has been a part of what has carried her through the rough times of her life. I have learned much through staying with her during this extended three week stay.

I have learned from the view from this side of the bed that my mom is an independent lady, who currently needs more help than she’s required in the majority of her adult life. She is a fighter who needs to be encouraged to keep fighting. She is brave, yet still has moments of fear. She has faith in Christ, yet the enemy has no mercy on the elderly, and inflicts fear at times with a vengeance. It’s difficult for her to accept help, yet gives grace to others freely. She is still my mom, yet needs me more than she ever has. Yes, I have learned by watching her struggle with simple tasks that once were easy, she is still a strong lady, but still needs assistance, compassion, understanding, patience, and encouragement.

I have also learned from the view from this side that it takes a large village of professionals to care for a small frail lady. Skilled surgeons made critical repairs, while anastheoligists held my mom’s life in their hands. Compassionate nurses have held my mom’s hand, adminsitered meds, and cared for her with tender voices that soothed and comforted her, to techs that bathed and dressed her with dignity and gentleness. Radiologists that found veins through ultra-sonic views when the RN could not find a vein, to the physical therapy teams who have helped her to her feet, and are teaching her to walk again. Pulmonologists who removed excessive fluid from her lungs, helping her to breathe, while we patiently waited and breathe freely. I’ve learned to not take the simple things such as the ability to brush my hair, teeth, or feed myself so casually. These simple tasks are important… when these skills are stagnant, one feels helpless.

I learned and observed case management teams who shuffle appointments, referrals and deal with the headaches, red tape, and the hoops that insurance companies can the hurdles the companies create for the patients and family. I have witnessed this team make the patients and families lives a bit easier by handling all the minute details. I’ve experienced Chaplins who pray compassionate prayers and prayers of faith with the patients and the family. My view is filled with the wonderful people you meet along the way while you, the family member, does just what you are do… wait patiently for news and updates while supporting our family member who is on the opposite side of the view.

I have encountered countless physicians who explained diagnosis after diagnosis, procedures, expectations, and prognosis with a plan for the future, while gently encouraging my mom that God is always in control. While the teams of cooks prepare her food, maintenance ensures a clean room. Receptionists who guide, assist, and answer questions to offering a friendly smile. Coffee shop baristas that make that perfect cup of coffee, to the volunteers who bring snacks, prayer clothes, and offer a heartfelt prayer. From my view this was only a few of the many individuals who have whom I have met on this extended journey, and whom have worked so diligently to helping my mom make recover. I have leaned that there are many more pieces to this medicinal puzzle, too many to list one by one.

The view from my side looks much different than the view from her side. While I see the team of professionals working to provide the care she needs, my mom views them as annoying at times, blessings at others, familiar faces, and sometimes uncertain faces behind protective masks. I see the reality of fragile lives hanging in the balance. While some are hearing annoying bells and alarms, professionals are hearing urgent calls that a patient is in trouble. While she naps periodically throughout the day… I wonder what the future holds. Yes, the view from my side sees many individual diverse pieces to a puzzle that fits strategically into a position that is unique to his or her talent all working to toward the same purpose to help others heal and recover… and to comfort and support those of us who wait patiently on this side.

I felt the need to share this part of my heart with you today. I will leave you with the following; don’t take life for granted. One day my mom was doing laundry like any other day and the next day fighting for her life in ER. God has a purpose and a plan, we just have to trust him. Life is fragile and every day is a gift. When we are strong we are still weak. We can’t do everything by ourselves, and it’s okay to accept the help of others. Be kind and considerate as we do not know other’s stories or what they are going through. Smiles are free and contagious. God provides strength when we feel we don’t have any left. Take life one moment at a time.

God bless, from the mountains of Kentucky. Feel free to like, subscribe, comment, follow. As always, may the Lord bless you abundantly.