Gratitude

It is a simple word defined as a strong feeling of appreciation to someone or something for what the person has done to help you. It was not the first word that came to my mind four years ago when my wife spent the last 45 days of her life at a nearby hospital. We were at the beginning of COVID-19, the disease that would eventually kill over 1 million of our fellow brothers and sisters in the United States and more throughout the world. My wife had been home in bed with a fever and sleeping for long periods of time for the two weeks before she went to the hospital. I called the local hospital and discovered that I could not stay with her once we arrived at the hospital and that I would not be able to visit either. It was unfair and so devastating, but I knew she needed to be in the hospital getting round-the-clock care. I called the ambulance company, and they came and took her to the hospital.

As I stood in my driveway that Friday evening and as the ambulance drove away down a darkened road, I had this thought that she would not return to our home. Countless trips to the hospital over the past eight months, along with a below-the-knee amputation, had me thinking that night that the end was near. The world was shutting down, and my world would soon change forever. Once my wife arrived at the hospital, a doctor called and gave me an update. My wife’s kidney disease was getting worse, but they would do everything they could to improve her condition. For the next 35 days, she slightly improved, but then she suffered setbacks and eventually passed away on a quiet and sunny Sunday morning on May 17^th, 2020.

As I look back and as I approach the fourth year of her death, I find the word gratitude has become so meaningful. When my wife was in the hospital for those 45 days, I could not visit her. Strict Covid protocol rules prevented me from being at her bedside. The hospital, however, had a plan so that I could see her and speak with her. The nurses or social workers on her unit would call me twice daily, and I could Facetime with her and spend quality time with her. Those brave nurses and social workers, whom I did not know yet, risked their safety by going to work each day and took time to help me so I could spend time with my wife in her final days.

About 15 days before my wife died, she entered the Hospice program at the hospital. The doctors, nurses, and social workers also allowed me and my family access to her room anytime we wanted to be with her. We took turns staying in her room overnight. They made sure we had a comfortable cot, extra pillows, and food and beverages as they tried to offer solace and comfort. They were ready at a moment’s notice to respond to any request we may have made.

As I would arrive at the hospital late some evenings, the security staff would welcome me and escort me to my wife’s room. They told me they were honored to assist me, and if I needed anything, they would try to meet my requests. One evening, one of the security people who normally escorted me to my wife’s room was not able to do so.  She told me she would get someone to take me to her room. A well-dressed gentlemen met me and escorted me to my wife’s room. He happened to be the Chief Financial Officer of the hospital. He gave me his business card and told me to call his cell number anytime if I needed anything.

I am so grateful for all the genuinely kind people I met at the hospital who cared for me and my family during those dark and sad days. I thank the Hospice team and everyone at the hospital who made our difficult time a bit easier.

I am so grateful for all the good people who helped me during the most painful time of my life. I am also grateful to my wife, who often told me Winston Churchill’s words: “When you are walking through Hell, keep walking.”

When you are in the early stages of grief, it’s hard to give thanks and be grateful for all the good that was in those dark days. I think of the words of the Reverend Fred Rogers, who said in times of sadness and no hope, “Look for the helpers around you when there is a tragedy.”