Total Pageviews

23 December 2014

Weary and Worn.

When I came home from the hospital today, I was weary, so very weary and worn. I ate dinner, and then I said, "I need to do things. There's so much to do." But my body refused. I fell asleep. I slept. For several hours. 

Was the day all drama like some days are? No. But it was one of many days in this holy season when I had to be with -- and really BE WITH -- so many little people and their parents. There has been hardly any day this month when there were no psychiatric kids to see in my ER, and most days there were three or four. One day we had six. Even though most of these kids were not suicidal or homicidal or psychotic, and ultimately were sent home, each story I listen to lays bare the aches and pains of the kids and their caregivers. 

And when we connect them with our own clinic, I get to see them again a few days later for intake; at that point, I need to spend quite a bit of time with the parent ... and often hear mothers reveal stories of their own abuse, and most often the kid has witnessed some or all of it, often over several years. 

This afternoon during an intake session a little girl was eying the Uno game on my desk as I was interviewing her, and quietly asked, "Can we play, please?" I really didn't have time to play and told her so; her little face fell. And even as I was talking with her parents for the next half hour, I couldn't forget the little girl's face. So when I was done interviewing them, I said, "I hope you have a little more time, because I need to see your daughter again."

I brought her back in and said, "Let's play Uno". Her face lit up. And so we played. And as we played, there was a wonderful hush in the office and the angels came and sang to both of us, 

"Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." 

No comments:

Post a Comment