Tuesday, July 24, 2007

My own personal Jesus

So I was attending a code the other night and had to run a ABG to the blood gas lab because the tube system was down. Of course I was on the 43rd floor (OK...a slight exaggeration) and had to walk 3 miles to the lab (not an exaggeration). I, being new, chose the worst possible route to my destination. As I walked through the front lobby I was accosted by two young men in ties. With a maniacal look in their eyes they asked if I had accepted Jesus as my own personal savior.

With Depeche Mode running through my head I told them I was in a little bit of a hurry and would have to get back to them with my answer. Still barring my way they proceeded to tell me that there was nothing more important than my everlasting soul. Smiling, I told them that there is a dead person whom I am trying to help resurrect who may wish to respectfully disagree. Further, I added, unless they had a personal invite to pass out their pretty little phamplets I suggested they leave. For as soon as I could tear myself from them I would be calling security. They parted like the Red Sea and I proceeded to the lab, ran the blood, and called the results. I then went through the lobby to see if I would need to make good to call the people with the badges and mace. Thankfully, they had made like the Ark of the Covenant and disappeared.

Now, what I don't understand is why these young men had been sent to the hospital. We have clinical clergy who are more than capable of handling the spiritual needs of our patients. If they need something that cannot be provided the people's own religious leader is welcome at the hospital. I find it hard to believe that anyone in their right mind would have their young people go out into a medical center and hand out propaganda at 9:30pm. The only thing my cynical mind can come up with is either these kids had their religions mixed up and thought they were racking up virgins, or they came from a poor church that was trying to bring in some tithes to pad their coffers.

At different times of the day there are different types of visitors in the hospital. During the day there are the elderly who come to visit their friends and bogart the coffee. There are the kids who are dragged there to Aunt Jane one last time. There are the adult children who haven't visited their parents in the nursing home for six months and then charge into the hospital demanding the moon. However, as the clock comes closer to straight up in the dark the people become desperate. Lack of sleep coupled with a very sick loved one makes people unable to cope with even the most basic decisions. I've seen visitors turn circles over and over trying to decided if they want vanilla or chocolate pudding in the cafe. The last thing they need is someone giving them a little piece of paper that tells them that unless they recite a silly little prayer right now they are in real danger of going to hell.

I guess my past life has made me consider these people predatory. I've never been a big fan of organized religion and this is why. If these people want to do some good why don't they go to a skilled nursing facility to minister to the elderly who would love to have visitors who had something uplifting to say. I'll tell you why. Their god is all about the Benjamens.

RT

P.S. OK...I'm just pissed that I had to listen to "Personal Jesus" in my head all night. Damn, I think I'll be listening to it again tonight.

2 comments:

mielikki said...

And so, now, I too, have Personal Jesus going through my head. . .
And I can't believe that someone was actually peddling Jesus in a hospital lobby. . .
I would have held up the blood and told them I was a vampire. . .
but that's just me ;)

Constance said...

Timing is everything. And so is location. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.