The Importance of Caring
Sometimes things happen to us and our family members that take us by surprise and make us think about telling our loved ones that we care about them more than ever. Such an event happened to me several months ago when my then 94 year old aunt, whom I watch over as necessary, was in a local emergency room and had to be taken to another hospital via Life Flight helicopter.
As I wasn’t allowed on the copter, all I could do was watch as the air ambulance lifted off from its helipad to zip her to Hartford Hospital in Connecticut. There were no available beds in Boston or Worcester so Hartford was the third choice. I was informed by the two nurses who would be tending to my aunt during the flight that it would be a 15-minute trip. (By car, the road trip would be about 1 hour and 20 minutes.)
I made my 10-minute ride home from the local hospital and awaited a phone call from the Hartford ER which, of course, never came because hospital ERs are places of bedlam and short staffing these days. The lack of a phone call is in no way intended as a negative against the excellent care my aunt received there but merely a comment about today’s state of hospital staffing. After an hour of waiting, I phoned the hospital and was transferred from one department to another finally being told that because my aunt’s patient information was not in their computer system yet, they were not allowed to provide me with any information and could I please phone back later.
After another few hours and another phone call, I learned she was resting comfortably and that they were taking care of her. Since ER rooms don’t have phones, I wasn’t able to speak with her directly but the nurse assigned to her told me that she would contact me at the end of her 12-hour shift and I would then be able to chat. True to her word, about 8 p.m. this truly outstanding caregiver did, indeed, phone me on her personal cellphone which she handed to my aunt so we could have a few words with each other. She was doing well and I wished her a good night and told her I loved her.
My aunt is a petite woman about five feet tall and sharp as a tack. The last time she sat on a plane was decades ago where she had such a bad experience that she vowed never to board a plane again. Apparently, all those years ago, her plane had hit an air pocket and then dropped suddenly causing her to be this close to losing her lunch. She swore off all air travel following this harrowing experience. The two Life Flight nurses were outstanding however. They swooped (no pun intended) into her local ER room and began reviewing her medical condition with the ER staff right then and there while my aunt and I listened to every word. The first nurse was an easygoing gent who should’ve been a comedian as he bantered with her to put her at ease while the second nurse explained that he was about to dose her with a sedative to make her relaxed during the flight.
Surprisingly, my aunt did not fight them about taking an air ride as she knew the gravity of her medical condition. After they wrapped her like a burrito and transferred her to the helicopter gurney, they whisked her down the hall and out the doors to the helipad where the copter was waiting. All of this was done so very quickly after signing this form and that form and obtaining verbal approvals, etc.
After I returned home to await the aforementioned Hartford Hospital phone call, I began to decompress a bit. It was then that I began to think horrible things like What if she doesn’t make it? What if the blood transfusions don’t work? Why didn’t I tell her 10 more times that I loved her and that I’d be there at the hospital as soon as possible and please, auntie, don’t worry about anything.
It made me think about other family members who passed away quickly and I never had the chance to tell them about my feelings for them. Instead of writing eulogies I should be telling my entire family and friends how I really feel about them when they are living. But I know that 99 percent of us never really get the chance or the opportunity never really presents itself or we just don’t get in the groove to do such a thing.
Well, five days later, my aunt was happily discharged from the hospital and it just so happened to be her 95th birthday. A few days later, I took her out for a special dinner at a special restaurant and was able to express to her how important and extraordinary she truly is. I told her how her words of wisdom mean so much to me when asking her opinion. I told her how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. Tears came to her eyes which, of course, affected me as well. We hugged.
I guess what I’m trying to write is, don’t wait until it’s too late. Tell your loved ones how much they mean to you right now while they are still in your life. It’s a miracle that my aunt has lived to the age she has. We just never know how short or long our lives will be but telling someone you love them now is the finest gesture you could ever make.
