Don’t worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough trouble of its own. For sure. But from where I sit on this fine Sunday evening, today hasn’t had any more trouble than no AC on a 92 degree desert spring day. It was a good day. And from the goodness of here, tomorrow and the day after that and Friday look a bit ominous. The truth is, despite my dread for tomorrow’s manic Monday morning routine, the mercy meet for tomorrow’s needs will show up like a faithful friend just as it did today.
Tomorrow and Tuesday are work days at the hospital. And if they’re anything like what they’ve been like lately, they’ll be 13+ twelve hour shifts full of call lights, chair alarms, overhead code calls, phone ringing, vocera messaging, and to do lists that won’t get completed competing with the 5 minutes spent in my patient’s room listening to their story. 13 hours divided into 55 second intervals of perpetually interrupted management of the health needs of people made in the image of God. And as crazy at it’s getting, the more intensely I feel called to minister to people as a nurse.
Wednesday and Thursday will be working on finishing my final draft of a 2500 word paper on the thesis that having a wound champion nurse and wound-huddle for each unit, each shift will help drive down the incidence of hospital acquired pressure injuries. Additionally Connor and I have a couple doctor appointments those days.
Friday morning at 7 am I’ll be a patient in the hospital where I work. I’ll be on the receiving end of nursing care and having my uterus removed. My uterus and I have had a difficult relationship. She’s served me well despite the pain and now I have two strapping young men growing under my care. But it’s time for her to go with all her fibroids and endometriosis and monthly trouble.
I hope to be home by Saturday afternoon and begin my 4 to 6 week recovery.
It’s gonna be a busy week from where I sit. But from where my Lord sits, it’s gonna be a week of his faithful work to complete what he started in me 27 years ago.
I’m in good hands.