Tom

taking a little break from fiction...

during my overnight shift at the hospital last night, God's grace was made available to me through a patient.  His name is Tom.  Sadly, Tom's mind and brain have succumbed to the harrowing effects of drug and alcohol abuse.  Our night started out pretty talkative!  We talked about his love for sailing and playing footsies.  ;) (He's 45.)  We even watched Jay Leno together.  About 2 hours into my shift, Tom became increasingly agitated with me because as a patient safety sitter, I have the glorious job of telling people what they CAN'T do.  his mind was so lost that he'd begin a conversation we had just finished not 5 minutes earlier.  I just went along and stayed interested.  He soon grew bored (as one would) and started to sit up in bed wanting to walk to the restroom.  wanting me to get him a coke.  wanting me to get him a swig of rum.  even a small cup of water.  he was not allowed these things because of a procedure he is having this morning.  It pained me to turn a man down to a cup of water but it was what i had to do.  He grew increasingly angry.  the red in his face caused my heart to pump a little faster.  a few times, i even checked my pulse because it felt like the blow of every beat in my chest was causing my whole body to rock gently back and forth in the chair i was sitting in.  my resting heart rate is roughly 60bpm.  last night, i clocked the highest at 108bpm (count number of beats in wrist for 10 seconds, multiply by 6.)  =)

Each time i had to tell him no and redirect him to his pillow, i felt my spine tingle and my face flush red.  the heat swallowed my ears. first my earlobes, then like a black hole, the heat engulfed the rest of my ears.  I began to feel scared.  And even now, i'm not really sure why.  i've sat with patients that were physical with me. I've had to duck under fists, dodge kicks, wince after a scratch on my arm, ya know, the real fun stuff.  Tom just tried repeatedly to get out of bed.  and i repeatedly told him he was not allowed to.  he would whip his head around real fast, point to the door and tell me to leave, tell me that he'd have me fired.  and soon after, he would lie back down, breathing heavier and huffing and puffing.  i think it was the increased breathing that scared me the most. other than the scenarios i kept playing in my head.

Often, God's grace (this is me thinking) is looked as something that is offered that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. to make clearer; God's grace can be felt while in prayer, having a prayer answered, through a person giving a gift or making a sacrifice.  I think God's grace can be mistakenly grouped into warm and fuzzy all the time.  Though Tom was the last person i wanted to spend my night with, and I him, Jesus spent time with 'the least of these.'  i felt God's grace thru Tom.  Not because of all the nice names he called me or his obvious anger towards me. but because Tom yielded gratefulness in my soul.