1/ You used such beautiful words. Words like “gingerly” to describe how you approached the physical therapy maneuvers you tried that morning. And “cacophony” in reference to the food tray someone accidentally knocked to the floor.
I loved them all.
2/ Me: “You have such beautiful words. Such lovely and unexpected ones. It’s becoming my favorite thing on rounds this week.”
You: “Oh, aren’t words just grand? And so many to choose.”
You released a gentle chuckle. Then you coughed.
But gingerly.
3/ And so. Because it was established that we were both lovers of words, I closed each visit the same.
Me: “So what’s the word?”
And each time you would smile, stare off for a beat, and then share one.
You: “The word is . . . milieu. Do you know it?”
4/ Did I know it? Yes. But did I use it? No.
And so I told you just that.
You: “I like how that one feels in my mouth. So fancy. So I pair it usually with something unexpectedly common. Or even unsavory.”
Me: “Like what?”
You: “Hmmm. Let me think.”
You squinted an eye.
5/ You: “This happy milieu makes for a better recovery in the hospital.”
My face broke into a smile. You could see it even under my mask.
You: “I skipped the unsavory word. It’s a good one right?”
Me: *nodding*
You: “You have one for me?”
Me: “A word?”
You: *chuckling* “Yes!”
6/ Me: “I don’t have as many good ones as you. I’m nervous!”
*laughter*
You folded your IV laden arms and waited. I sifted through my brain for a word worthy of you.
Me: “lexicon.”
Your eyes widened.
Me: “As in ‘We are lovers of the lexicon.’”
You eyes closed in approval.
7/ You repeated my words.
You: “We are lovers of the lexicon.”
Yes, we are.
So with each visit, this dance continued. An overview of your hospital course, an examination, a discussion of the plan, and then, of course, the exchange of words.
Between lovers of the lexicon.
8/ You’d spent weeks in the ICU before I met you. And a few more with us. Finally, this prolonged hospitalization was drawing to an end.
I came to see you on that last day. You were perched up in a bedside chair—the light of anticipation emanating from you.
Me: “Hello, you.”
9/ We both knew that the discharge plans had already been inked. You assured me that my intern had reviewed every piece of the plan.
Me: “Okay.” *taking your hand* “So tell me. What’s the word?”
You skipped the usual animated pause and did not miss a beat.
10/ You: “The word is ‘hallelujah.’”
You held my gaze and softened your eyes.
You: “How is that for today?”
Me: “It is perfect. So, so perfect.”
*silence*
You didn’t ask for my word in return. We just stood and held hands for a brief moment. Savoring that word “hallelujah.”
11/ And so.
This was a piece of my week. Amidst the cacophony of the shitty milieu of an ongoing pandemic that we in healthcare have worked to gingerly navigate—there was this.
Him: "I like the way you look at me."
Me: "Excuse me, sir?"
Him: "I mean. . . I like how your eyes look at me."
His words caught me off guard. I’d only been there a few moments. It seemed misplaced.
Me: "I want to receive that. Tell me what you mean, sir."
2/ Him: "It's like your eyes they look at me like . . . I don't know. Like I'm somebody worth you looking at.”
Me: *listening*
Him: “Like they happy to see me. Do that make sense?"
Me: "I think so."
*silence*
3/ Him: "It’s like, when you came in here, you put your eyes on me and right off they told me. Like you made up your mind even 'fore you came in here. Like, 'So what about what he look like or what stuff he got going on. He worth my time.’ I could tell.”
Them: "Hey Dr. M. You busy?"
Me: "Not at the moment. What's up?"
Them: "Wondering if you could weigh in on rash on our new patient. It's on her backside. Kind of looks like yeast but I'm not sure."
Me: *listening*
Them: *pointing at door* "She's in bed 2."
2/ Me: "Okey dokey."
Them: "I need to run and see someone with chest pain. Can you let me know if I should call derm after you look?"
Me: "Yup."
I watched the resident disappear down the corridor as I stopped to open the chart in the EMR.
Ooooh. A Grady elder.
Yay.
3/ I approached bed 2 and noticed that the curtain was pulled all the way closed.
Me: *knocking on wall* "Hellooooo. . . "
When I came around the pink divider, this Grady elder was in the middle of being given a sponge bath by one of our nurse assistants.
Him: "You know? My friend had a heart attack just like me. Just a year older than me. He died. My tight man, too."
Me: "Wow."
His brother was sitting in a bedside chair and chimed in.
Brother: "And don't forget the dude from the car wash.”
2/ Brother: “Wasn't even 50. Left a wife and 4 kids behind."
Him: "Ahh man. I forgot about that. He was good people, too.”
Brother: "Oh yeah."
Him: *snaps finger* “And remember ol' dude from The Sopranos? He died from a heart attack, too. Young."
He shook his head and sighed.
3/ The room fell awkwardly silent after that. I guess something about mentioning Tony Soprano seemed to make the possibility of death seem more real. His eyes started glistening and his face cloaked over with grief.
He turned his head away, hoping his brother wouldn't notice.
1/ Every year I prepare a Christmas scavenger hunt quiz for my kids. 1 clue to find a question which, when answered correctly allows opening of 1 gift. Then they get another clue.
Yup.
The theme changes every year. And slows the whole process down in the most wonderful way.
2/ One of my fave years was “Books We’ve Read.” They’re such great sports about it, too. Even now that they’re on high school!
And shout out to award-winning author @JasonReynolds83 whose books have blessed our family and my Black sons beyond measure.
Mmm hmmm.
3/ This year we did “It’s a Family Affair.” Questions about our family and our origin story. Best part? Answers can’t be found on Google. Only by phoning a friend (aka a grandparent, aunt, uncle, or cousin!)
As a true nerd, I know the cognitive effort slows them down.
You: “What’s up, Dr. Manning? I been hoping I’d see you.”
Me: “Hey you! Good to see you.”
You paused, gave your arms an exaggerated fold, and huffed.
You: “You know I got a bone to pick with you.”
Me: “With me?”
You: “With y-o-u.”
Hmmm.
2/ Me: “Okay. Talk to me.”
You: “What’s this omicron? Maaaaan you got me thinking if I took them shots I’d be good.”
Me: *listening*
You: “I know 3 people who took three of them shots and all three of ‘em got #COVID!”
I took deep drag of air.
3/ Me: “Yeah. We’re seeing breakthroughs right now. But the good news is that if you’re vaccinated it’s usually mild.”
You scowled.
You: “I’m salty. You know I ain’t even want that shot! But I got it ‘cause it felt like the only way to get back to living.”