This is hopefully the last post sitting in room 165.  At least for now.  Sam is no longer on IV pain meds, thanks to the Soup Nazi of trauma doctors…….”No soup for you!”  And today when his IV blew again, then fell out of his arm temporarily, before Sam pushed it back in, (OUCH!) they called the Dr. and ordered an oral antibiotic.  Then he was given the choice of going home today or waiting until tomorrow and getting in two more debridements.  He asked if he could do one more here today then go home, but Nurse Kristen and I both said that would be very late night.  So he chose to stay until tomorrow and go home after his morning treatment.  He is not out of the woods yet.  There still could be a skin graft on his under arm or his torso or both.  The leg has improved so for now I’m leaving it off the list but praying none the less.  He will have to return once a week to the burn clinic on Tuesday’s and continue to see Dr. Biabek, but for now they are confident he can recover safely at home in the Harris Hospital.

I won’t go as far to say that we will miss St. V’s.  As I said before, nobody wants to be here.  What I will miss is the the nursing staff.  They have walked with us from the beginning of this journey. Comforting, encouraging and cheering us on.  Not just Sam, but Jeff and I too.  They knew when to hold our hands, say calming words or push us to try a wound dressing.  They told us what would happen now and prepared us for what was coming next.  They were never short tempered or put out by a question or concern.  No nurse Ratchets in this bunch.

Here is what I won’t miss. The 1st floor waiting room by the elevator.  We pass by it when we arrive or leave. When we go down to the cafeteria for a meal or to the coffee shop.  Every time, it is full of people.  24 hours a day for the last 7 days.  It was a mystery to me.  Who are these people?   What is their story? St. Vincent’s is not in the best area of town so I even wondered if these were people that just needed a safe place to sleep.  But Saturday night, when I left about midnight, it seemed to be especially busy in there.  I was standing waiting by the elevator when I noticed a circle of people in one corner holding hands with their heads bowed.  Then I heard one of them speak.  “Lord, please don’t let him die!”  It knocked the wind right out of me. We have a friend that works as a chaplain here.  Don happened to stop in on Monday and so I asked about the 1st floor waiting room.  He told me these are the friends and family of patients in the ICU and Critical Care Units.  He said many of these patients are touch and go and that waiting room is constantly full.  24/7, constantly full.

On our first full day here, last Thursday, my sweet friend Rachael came up with my other friend Melissa.  It was the first time she had been back at this hospital since losing her step-dad, Jim, about two months ago.  It was obvious that she had been crying when she came into the room and she said she just passed the hall where Jim had been.  Later she started texting me about all the construction in the hospital and how she used to walk the empty halls to get her steps in.  She even joked that she may have tested some of the empty beds that are waiting for their first patients since the remodel.  It wasn’t until I took one of her suggested walks and passed the waiting room that it dawned on me.  Rachael, her mom Joanie and their families, were one of those people waiting to hear about their loved one in that waiting room.  They prayed for him to recover, just like I heard the women pray on Saturday night.  Unfortunately Jim didn’t make it.  Jim went home to be with Jesus and is no longer here. The people in the 1st floor waiting room are no longer a mystery to me.  That circle of people praying have names.  They are Rachael, Joanie, Jarmen, Grace, Hannah, Norah and Will.  They got a phone call, much like ours.  They need prayers, comfort and care, while they are here and after they leave that waiting room on the 1st floor.