Can we talk?

Visiting the Elderly

         I went to visit an older woman in the hospital today. I've known her for a few years now,  but not very well. She was active in my church. It seems like just a few months ago, a few women and I stood in the hall after services waiting to make sure she didn't get locked in the bathroom while everyone else was gone. Apparently she'd had trouble getting the door open once before, but one person was still there.

         I signed up to visit the elderly because I figure if I live long enough I will need someone to visit me once in a while. If we believe in karma, then I'm planting seeds for my future. But I have to say I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

         She always had a small frame and was lean. She was very active in the life of the church and cared about reaching out beyond the walls into the community to help others. Today, she was shriveled up, all skin and bones, struggling to breathe. One eyelid was swollen shut. One was open, but she gave no sign that she heard me or knew that anyone was there. No nurse came around so that I could inquire.

         I put on my big girl pants, and stood my ground. I talked to her as though she could hear me. I babbled. Then I walked over to look out her window and commented on it. I told her I would pray if she didn't mind. I knew she wouldn't. I sat in the chair and prayed silently. Then I said the Lord's Prayer out loud, more for her benefit. I have a soft voice, so she probably didn't hear anything but mumbling if she could hear at all. I got up and talked some more.

         It felt awkward. I wanted to cry seeing anyone in this condition. Instead I sang to her. Not so loud that people in other rooms or the nurses' station would be disturbed, but loud enough for this private room.  After "Amazing Grace", I sang "When I Survey The Wondrous Cross". She would definitely know that one. I tried to sing more purposefully without getting louder. I went to the other side of her bed. Then it hit me. She loved missions, and I learned a missionary song as a child that I've never forgotten. So I sang "We've A Story To Tell To The Nations." With each song my conviction went up a little.

         Finally, I had to go. I never saw any reaction or change in her. No hospital personnel ever entered the room or looked in the door. It was a very sad experience for me.I don't know how nurses manage to work with these elderly patients and see their once strong bodies now so weak and frail. The lives that once were so active and had so much to give, now lingering and suffering, ebbing away.