Sitting in the ER in the middle of the night, staring up at the fluorescent lighting of the exam room at this:
Not the storm clouds it felt like at first; they turned into the silver lining of the ordeal.
Hospitals, both animal and human, are not where I want to spend any time with loved ones. I have a complicated and unhappy association with them. I'm usually there for painful reasons. TV commercials would have you believe that everyone walks out of their institution with a new lease on life. Sometimes people do. I've been that lucky person before, but it's not the norm in my experience. Some things about hospitals and their environs seem universal, though:
- They all smell of antiseptic and illness.
- Not known for beauty lighting.
- Magnets for the best and worse human impulses.
I've had the misfortune of being around them a lot lately - for my back, for my cat, and for my sweetie. Some other universalities struck me in this setting:
- The power of touch to comfort.
- The habit of hiding pain from our loved ones.
- The terrifying vulnerability of bodies and emotions.
And lessons that keep on getting learned:
- Kindness is a necessity.
- The "right thing to do" is never so apparent as such.
- Err on the side of Love.
Silver linings aren't cheap or easy by any measure, but they're there...
