Sickness, Suffering, & Silence
This post is a bit of a two-for-one deal. First, there is an update about my summer internship as a hospital chaplain. Second, I share a bit about a trip I took to a Benedictine monastery way back in May. At first, the two seem quite unrelated, but I think they might have more in common than even I saw initially.
Sickness & Suffering
Since late May, I have been serving as a chaplain at St. Mary Medical Center in Langhorne, PA. St. Mary is a moderate sized, Catholic, community hospital, and the only trauma center in the county. This summer I am serving with a cohort of seven other interns; five of us are at St. Mary, and three are serving at another Catholic hospital in the area. We spend three days a week doing clinical rounds and two days a week in group, plus the occasional weekend on-call shift. On clinical days we work with the medical team on our assigned units to provide emotional and spiritual care for patients. On group days we debrief with each other about our experiences, study issues of pastoral care and medical ethics, and explore how to provide the best care for our patients (and each other).
We are all assigned to certain units on the hospital. In my case, I serve our Neuro-Trauma ICU and a 45-bed Medical-Surgical unit with a stroke step-down specialty (in other words, a unit for people who have had strokes, or stroke-like events, but who do not need ICU-level care); although at the end of the day, we get patients with just about every diagnosis you can imagine. During an average clinical day I start with three meetings (Spiritual Care Team, Med-Surg patient rounds, Trauma Team) during which I listen for situations which might be more pressing (hospice admissions, new major diagnoses like cancer, addiction issues) and make a note to check in with those patients first. I also make a point to visit new admissions to my units so they know I am available. Once any referrals are done and I have visited what I feel are the "high priority" patients, I check in with the nurses to see who else could use a visit, because it really is the nursing staff that knows the patients the best. They usually have a feel for the energy of the unit on any given day; if the nurses are stressed, you can bet the patients will be stressed also.
That's the logistics of it. Makes it all seem so neat and tidy when I type it out. You have a list of folks whose world is being turned upside down by a car accident, a stroke, a massive infection, or any of a hundred other things, because, let's be honest, people don't plan to spend time in the hospital - at least not on the units that I work - and here I am, the chaplain. What do I do? Most of the time, I just sit with them. Maybe they tell me a bit of their story; maybe not. Maybe I read scripture or pray; maybe not. Sometimes they are having a deep emotional or spiritual crisis, and I give them the space to try to make sense of even a little bit of it; usually they say "You know, I'm doing okay right now, but thanks for taking the time to stop by." At my best, I am a calming presence that makes that moment a little more bearable; a reminder that they are not alone.
To be bluntly honest, it is a brutally exhausting job. If you want a taste of what it is like, go walk around a track for eight hours, all the while talking with someone about the most heart-wrenching, depressing, soul-crushing things you can think of - changing topics every 20 minutes of course - stopping every few hours to make "objective" notes for the medical record. That being said, it is also an amazing job, because amid the tragedy and loss you stumble into holy moments. The moment when the ICU nurse asks to talk for a bit, and tells you about the pain in his past and why he decided to become a nurse. The moment when a family, waiting for a loved one to take their last breath, tells stories of a life well-lived. The moment when a patient looks up at you and asks you to sit for a little while and read some scripture with them.
With just under two weeks left at St. Mary, I am starting to reflect on the bigger issues of the summer. I will leave you with two takeaways (more to come later I am sure!). First, talk to the people you care about. Talk to them about the big stuff, the little stuff, and everything else! Talk to them about what your wishes are if you get really sick and can't tell the doctors yourself - and put those wishes in writing in an advance directive or living will. Don't wait until tomorrow to tell someone how much they mean to you! Second, when someone you care about is in the hospital - GO VISIT THEM! Yeah, sitting with someone sick (or dying) is really hard, especially if you care a lot about them, but think about how much it would suck to be the sick person and never have any visitors. Even if they can't talk to you, go visit them. Sit with them. Read to them. Sing to them. Whatever. Just be there for them.
Silence
In the time between the end of the spring semester of class and the start of my summer program at St. Mary, I had the honor of spending a week at Holy Cross Monastery, which is located in the Hudson River Valley in New York. The trip was for a prayer retreat through Thompson Memorial Presbyterian Church, where I have been serving this past year (and where, I am pleased to say, I will be serving this coming year as well). It was a week of few responsibilities, relaxed conversation, good food, wonderful prayer and worship, and ample silence.
Holy Cross is a monastery in the Benedictine tradition, meaning they follow the practice of worship throughout the day. In their case, this means five services per day. Each service has a different focus, but all include chanting of psalms and prayers. Additionally, guests are asked to join the monks in observing the Great Silence, which means no conversation from 8:30pm (at the end of the last service) until around 9:15 (at the passing of the peace just prior to the Eucharist). This means that breakfast is eaten in silence; you watch the sun set in silence. With no pressure to talk, you are free to pray, read, nap, meditate, whatever you desire. It is quite wonderful! While I would not want to live the life all the time, spending a week with no responsibilities other than caring for myself and getting to know my church family a bit more is delightful.
Below are some photos I took during our trip to give you a sense of what life at Holy Cross is like. If you want to know more, just ask!
