Pandemic Parables: Open Doors
Pandemic Parables: Open Doors
Every week day, with a few exceptions, I go for a lunchtime walk around the beautiful, but empty campus of Hood College. It is just behind the hospital in Frederick, Maryland where I am working as a Resident Chaplain until the end of August.
A few days ago a side door to one of the halls, a door that is always locked, was wide open. The next day it was propped open again. On both days the front door remained closed. On Friday, in a different building, a door that is always shut, was ajar, letting the Spring air blow through the student-less building.
For me those doors were a symbol of change about to happen in our lives.
The breeze wafting through them represented the liberty that lies ahead after a long, hard, confined winter.
In the hospital we are all so ready for that breeze of hope, for change, for freedom.
The staff is battle weary.
After one day when there was an increase of Covid patients on the isolation wing on the third floor the always upbeat, gentle, kind-hearted secretary was unusually quiet. Her eyes were downcast and her head drooped.
“What is it?” I said. “You look so sad.”
“How are you feeling?”
“There has to be a light at the end of this tunnel” she responded.
“I get it.“ I said.
“You are exhausted and you just want to have hope that all this really will end at some point. Is that it?”
“Yes.” She nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
Later that day on a non virus wing of the floor a wise, senior, unflappable charge nurse said.
“I feel so emotional. I find myself crying easily. Even the smallest thing sets me off.”
I smiled wistfully, understanding.
The same thing is happening to me.
Someone sent me a song with images of nurses in an Emergency Department that was the twin of ours.
After seeing those exhausted medical personnel, I found myself gently weeping.
On Friday three planes from the Maryland National Air Guard flew in a large circle around the hospital complex to honor those working within.
I had to swallow hard to stop from crying.
Saturday May 9th was my birthday and I often found myself close to tears because of the many acts of kindness and generosity that peppered my day.
Yes, I understand how the charge nurse felt. I think many in, and indeed outside, the hospital are feeling the same way.
She carried on. “Of course it doesn’t help wearing these all day, motioning to the N95 and cloth mask covering her face. It means we are breathing in our own Carbon Dioxide. I wonder how much that affects us all.”
I had never thought of that!
I am only double masked when I’m on the floors. Otherwise I wear a cloth mask only.
I find the N95 to be annoying, tight, and uncomfortable. And to wear both together is unbearable. I do it anyway though.
The nurses feel the same way. But in these virus times, they have to double mask all day.
I learned that they are advised to go outside, take the mask off, and breathe deeply in their breaks. But all the exits are closed except for emergency room and front foyer.
That is a long trek for many of them.
And sometimes they have to work through breaks...
But there is hope.
Like the breath of spring coming in through the open doors on my walks, the end does seem to be finally appearing over the horizon.
Although at times you need binoculars to see it.
Our wonderful hospital CEO released a new video on Friday saying that we are in the eighth week of what he always thought would be a ten week journey until the virus peaked.
It seems as though we are right on track.
He reminded us that the virus would still be present in the hospital after the hill had been crested but at least we’d have a clearer picture of the finishing line.
This gives hope to the battle weary.
The numbers of virus patients in the hospital remains steady. As of today, Sunday May 10th at noon, thirty three are in isolation with another two under investigation.
However eighty three have now beaten the virus and have been released. Celebration Walks are happening several times a day. Glory!
The winds of change are definitely starting to blow.
Since the beginning of the virus the hospital has been operating at a sixty percent capacity, according to the CEO.
On Friday Governor Hogan announced elective surgeries can start again, ahead of his original projection. Our first ones are scheduled for Wednesday and from then on the hospital will start to get busier.
Then there are other changes. Beginning this coming week everyone who comes into the hospital, patient or staff will have their temperatures checked. (All patients are currently tested for the virus whether they are showing symptoms or not.)
A friend who lives in Hong Kong was surprised that temperature checking wasn’t already happening at the hospital.
“Here in Hong Kong I’m tested about nine times a day.” He said during a phone chat.
“When I enter and leave my apartment, the same at work, and I’m tested again when I go into a supermarket or restaurant. Checks are automic here. They have become a way of life.”
It makes me wonder what temporary changes we have seen happen in our lives during this virus season, will become permanent.
I began to think of those doors at Hood College. The closed front doors and the side doors flung open.
I feel that by the end of this pandemic - and it will come to an end - our lives will have permanently changed.
In many ways for the better, although we might not realize that at first.
Things and people we always thought would be there will have disappeared. And new friendships and undreamed of opportunities will open.
It will be as though our lives have been picked up, have been turned, and then set back down again. What was the front door no longer opens, but a side door is flung wide letting in love, light and opportunity.
So in these almost, but not quite days.
Days where we sense we are coming into a new phase of the war against Coronavirus, but are not there yet.
May we have the strength, courage, and resilience to hold firm and continue doing what needs to be done to get to the other side of this virus season.
May we be released from people and situations that have hindered us. And may doors be locked behind them to prevent re-entry.
And may unusual doors be flung open before us, side doors leading to fulfillment, grace, love and deep abiding peace.
Doors that would simply never have been opened without this virus.
May we become all that we were created to be.
Indeed may we become fully and gloriously alive.
May that happen for you.
May it happen for me.
More wonderfully than we could dream or imagine.
Amen.
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