This past week was my first experience of actually spending several nights in the hospital and I’m happy to report that pretty much every step of the process was filled with grace.
First, there was hardly one at Urgent Care or in the Emergency Room, so the process went relatively speedily. And as usual, every staff person at Sierra Nevada Memorial was kind, capable, and efficient.
The location of my room proved to be a particular blessing. A little ways off the main hallway, it was surprisingly quiet most of the time. I felt a bit like a wounded animal, hunkered down in their den for rest and healing. The feeling was amplified by the fact that I didn’t so much as step foot outside that hospital room door from Monday night until Wednesday afternoon.
By the end of Tuesday, I was convinced it was a rather sleepy hospital. Once or twice I even commented to my nurse about how quiet everything was, only to have her give me a slightly puzzled look.
Then on Wednesday afternoon, I had to go downstairs for a CT scan. They sat me in the wheelchair, rolled me out of that little room then a few steps to the left…and oh my! I was suddenly in the middle of more noise and activity than I knew what to do with.
And I suddenly understood the blessing of that hospital room and the bubble of grace that surrounded it.
