I was searching the internet and discovered that if you missed Valentine’s Day you could order a forgiveness basket.
What if you didn’t order a basket, but made up your own? May be a box of stuff. What would you put in your box? How would you know what to put in it and what to leave out?
I could put in the past week’s problems about a sickness that made me not care for the special day.
I could also mention that even though I had all the proper care and flu and pneumonia shots I was flattened from both.
That my body temps were skyrocketing and my oxygen was so low that it hardly registered and my doctor lost no time in sending me to the hospital in an ambulance, no less.
I was really sick and I knew it, but I resisted the trip because I have had some pretty bad experiences while hospitalized. And who hasn’t. It is not where you want to go even when sick and most are not geared for your comfort.
It was if the ambulance was waiting and almost at once I was being lifted on the gurney by two strong young women who skillfully went about the job of buckling me up for the ride.
Times have changed and with changing times we have been blessed with a modern hospital filled with caring and smiling people.
That’s CMC-Lincoln, the one with Excellence as its goal. It comes pretty close with a full staff of competent doctors, nurses and all other support personnel.
Everyone wears a smile. I was the one complaining. It seems as if everything from the short trip to the emergency room where a very kind nurse was waiting was going according to plan. No hitches anywhere as everyone seemed to be quietly going about their work smiling — of course.
The pleasant young man who rushed me down the hall for the CT scan and other tests; the young women who came early to clean and dust; the occupational therapist who set up a mini bath after I kept complaining about the need; and the physical therapist who walked a staggering me down the hall while I kept a mumble going that I could walk before I came here.
I asked my assigned doctor (who was a smiling petite beauty wearing spike heels) if they handed out happy pills each morning. I complained about not getting any sleep and about being tired. She agreed that sometimes we needed more rest.
I suggested that she change her shoes and maybe she would not be so tired.
It shook up the staff as I had already told them that I was sent so they would have something to do all night. I tried to hold on to a little humor. It kept the tears away.
I woke up at 3 one morning with someone tying a tourniquet on my arm getting more blood for the lab. This gal wore a smile all across her face and she assured me she would soon be gone.
I said that it was obvious that she had already had her morning dose of happy pills. She then proceeded to tell me about that smile. It was because she liked her job helping others.
We laughed about vampires always needing blood and if I didn’t soon go home, I would put a stop to the drain.
I’ve barely touched on the capable people who keep that hospital moving around the sick and ailing public. I could mention the chef, who made rounds with his menu, or the ones who kept an eye on all those wires connected to me, and I don’t want to miss the volunteer who brought warm washcloths before lunch.
One more thing: when you see that old lady resting in a wheelchair in the hallway, do you wonder why she is there?
Now I know. She is waiting for someone to wheel her to and fro for tests. Don’t be concerned. Someone knows she’s there and she’ll have a short wait.
Now back to that forgiveness box. Put some ailments in, but leave a lot of room for happy pills.
Kathryn Yarbro is former managing editor of the Lincoln Times-News.