A Warm Hug

I came across one of my assistants giving a nurse a brief hug in the hallway today. A few minutes later a message lit up my phone as my co-worker apologized for breaking the mandatory social distancing rules at work, even though the two ladies were masked and wore face shields. It turns out that the nurse is suffering a devastating personal loss and had shared this with my assistant. Being a very caring and loving person, she initiated an appropriate hug to comfort her friend, except that physical proximity is not appropriate these days.

One of the best things about working in this pandemic is that my role allows me to touch people in a way that provides comfort, care and reassurance. I spent 20 minutes clapping the chest of a woman with pneumonia this afternoon in order to loosen the secretions that were causing her lung to collapse. I checked to see if I was causing pain and she replied that my hands felt wonderful on her back. My days are spent in close contact with people who are isolated from friends and family while they are sick. Human touch is so important and even for a less demonstrative person like myself, the absence of physical touch can be emotionally wearing and stressful. 

Last fall, before the second COVID-19 wave took hold, I visited family in the Ottawa area. We walked through an old graveyard next to a Catholic church in the village of Fallowfield. My 3 year old granddaughter was enamored with a child-sized statue of the Virgin Mary. To her it was just a human figure who needed a hug. She loves to hug to other children but is learning that this is not allowed for now. I hope she will continue to be an empathetic and loving person in a safe, physical way when this is over.

I came across a book called Every Moment Holy by McKelvey Douglas which contains over a 100 liturgies for daily life.  One is called A Liturgy for Medical Providers and here is an excerpt of the beautiful prayer. 

O Christ Our Healer,

There is no end to malady, sickness,

injury, and disease in this broken world,

so there is no end to the line of hurting

people who daily need my tending.

Therefore give me grace, O God,

that I might be generous with my kindness,

and that in this healing and care-taking vocation

my hands might become an extension of your

hands, and my service a conduit for your mercy.

For it is often not an easy place to be—

so near to suffering, to injury, to pain,

to emergency and fear and confusion,

and sometimes even to dying and

death and grief—

but I believe it is exactly the sort of place

you would be, O Lord, amongst those

who hurt. So let my practice of medicine be

centered in an understanding of your heart.

Let me practice medicine

because you are a healing God

who feels compassion and extends mercy.

Let me practice medicine

because you are near to those who are in need,

to those who face grief and loss.

Let me practice medicine

as a willing servant of your redemption,

pushing back—by means of my vocation—

the effects of the fall.

Let my presence in this place lend a human face to your compassion...