The Third Day of Lent

To a nurse that worked at Central Baptist Hospital in Lexington in 1989,

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I don't remember your name. . . . or your face. . . . or the sound of your voice.  In fact, the only encounter we had lasted about thirty minutes. The impact that you made on my life though has lasted for the 22 years since I saw you.

Many hours after my twins were born, my bladder had still not been able to function on its own after several days of depending on a catheter. Nurses came in and out of my room scolding me with the threat that they would have to insert another catheter if I didn't go to the bathroom on my own. (Today, that's a little funny. I mean did they think I wouldn't go on purpose?)

Anyway to make a long story short, my nerves were frazzled and the depression that would follow their birth had already started to sneak into my core. With my body sore and my emotions at the brink, two different nurses attempted to insert a catheter with lots of pain, but ultimately no success. This is where you entered the picture.

You came into my room, started talking about my beautiful babies and acknowledging the emotional roller coaster ride I was experiencing. As you placed the catheter into my bladder and waited for its contents to empty, you silently noticed the tears that were falling quietly from the corners of my eyes down my face. With no words or sighs, you removed the latex glove from one of your hands and tenderly wiped away my tears as they fell. Your touch was that of an angel. The compassion I felt was nearly overwhelming.

You soon left my room and I never saw you again.

Since then, I've spent too much time trying to convince myself that I didn't need any one in my life. I isolated myself from others with an eating disorder and a hard ass attitude. Often during those years though, I thought of you. When I was particularly vulnerable and feeling very lonely, I would close my eyes and allow myself to remember the way I felt when your hand touched my face to wipe away my tears and for that brief moment I was not alone.

Thankfully, that has changed for me. I allow myself to be surrounded by folks who love me and I bask in their touches and compassion, but I will forever remember and be thankful for the love and tenderness in your heart that compelled you to take off your glove and touch my face.

I only pray that I will be able to pay that gift forward and trust in the fact that God witnessed that moment as well.

Thank you.
Angela