There are actually regulars that go to the hospital. These people go to the hospital for every little thing, even sometimes every little nonexistent thing. It gets to the point where J.D. recognizes them and even vice versa sometimes. The medics call these people frequent flyers. However, asking for help isn't always the easiest thing.
J.D. went to a man with gout that had fallen on the porch of an abandon house and couldn't get up. He lay there for two weeks (someone occasionally brought him food) before help was called in. When they got there and were evaulating him, J.D. noticed that his belt was around his neck. At some point during the two weeks of laying there, this man had contemplated killing himself. Why didn't he ask for help sooner? But sometimes people do realize you need help and show up in the nick of time.
One day I was feeling down. I live a blessed life in comparison to 80% of my husband's patients. But sometimes within my life, it's difficult for me. I was moping around the house, so J.D. loaded the dogs and I up in the truck. We headed out to a local civil war battlefield that's a mountain park. We've found a field tucked into the back that is everything a meadow ought to be and no one else is ever there. We pulled out the (clean) horse blanket to lay on and hiked through the waist high grass to the rise. I just laid there and looked up at the sky, and was happy again:
Quote: "Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you."-Mother Teresa
No comments:
Post a Comment