It’s been a few years since I made a hospital visit. Our pastor is on vacation and since I’m filling in for him for a few weeks, I got the call about a member being admitted from the emergency room.
I’d been to this hospital many times. It was familiar, but different. The automatic entry didn’t open as I approached, a sign pointing me to the other front entrance. Stanchions guided me past a security guard and through a metal detector. That was new. A receptionist found the room number for me, took my picture, and printed out my photo visitor ID tag for the day. This was a new procedure for this location.
I made my way to the elevators. One thing that hadn’t changed was waiting for an elevator. All four working elevators were up at the top floors of the hospital. The stairs were right there behind me, so I took them to the third floor.
I had a great visit. The patient gave me the usual, “You didn’t have to come all the way down here.” I’m thinking, “Of course I did. That’s what pastors do. That’s what the church does. “I was sick and you visited me” (Matthew 25:36).
Our conversation was punctuated by a tech drawing blood and a nurse checking in. I didn’t stay long, knowing that when you’re not feeling well, a short visit is always better. After a prayer I was on my way.
I’m always fascinated with all the activity in a hospital. I marvel at the choreographed flow of doctors, nurses, techs, and other caregivers. I’m in awe of the medical technology. I’m fascinated by the healing process and all that goes into it.
I learn something new about diseases, medications, treatments, and wellness every time I visit someone. I appreciate the opportunity to continue my education!
Waite for it... 