Sunday, September 23, 2018

September 23 – “a top ten most eerie …”


Well, I have officially experienced a true top ten most eerie event in my life.  It all started when I went to the hospital.  Oh, not for me.  I was informed that one of our Seasiders had been admitted, so I went out to see him and pray with him. 

Now the first thing that should have been a clue happened before I ever left my car.  Free parking.  That’s right.  The gate was locked in the up position.  No one answered the call button.  So I hesitantly entered and parked, wary of being hunted down by hospital security.  But none came.  I saw only a few only confused and disoriented parkers.  Strange.

I already had the room number texted to me by the one who informed me of the hospitalization.  Excellent.  That saved me a trip to the information desk.  All I had to do was find John Sealy Room 914.  Easy, right?  Well …

My journey started as I made my way to the patient relations office.  My plan was to renew my pastoral certifications while on site.  But no one was there.  In fact, no one was in any of the offices I was passing.  No one.  Undeterred, I pressed on.  After all, I have been in this hospital hundreds of times over the years.  And I could renew those authorizations another time.  It would be a long walk.  The main entry now leads into the sister hospital, Jennie Sealy.  But the rain had prevented our walk in the morning anyway, so I was ready.  Or so I thought.

I made my way to an appropriately marked bank of elevators, although they seemed to be somewhat displaced from the last time I was there.  I entered and pressed the floor button.  Thankfully the elevator worked perfectly and I found myself on the ninth floor.  All things pediatrics.  Thank couldn’t be right.  The guy I was looking for was at least my age.  I strolled around that floor for a while, and it didn’t take long to realize that I was the only one there.  Really.  The only one.  No one in any offices.  No one in the halls.  I entered doors that I had always assumed were locked up tight, but still found no one.  Curious now, I returned to the elevators.  Well, to some elevators.  These were not the ones I came up on.  I went down to the first floor to get my bearings, forgetting momentarily that the second floor is actually the first floor.  It mattered not.  There was no one in the basement, either.  I found some more elevators.  Back up to floor two.  No one.  More elevators.  Up to floor three for a quick look-see.  No one there, either.  I tried a stairwell.  Nope.  Same results through those doors.  Finally, after yet another harrowing stroll through a deserted floor, the elevator doors opened to a foyer that I recognized.  The front desk.  And one couple, obviously not on staff, walked about, as uncertain as was I.  I went to the front desk and cautiously lifted the red phone.  A cheery voice greeted me.  How eerie is that?  I asked as to the whereabouts of my patient, and the voice told me, “Oh, he is in Jennie Sealy Hospital, Room 914.”  Ah.  JENNIE Sealy, not John.  Right where I entered the complex in the first place.  Right next door.  But how do I get there from here?  More than ever determined now, I struck out for the return trip.  Couldn’t be any worse than this first leg, could it?  Umm …

Right away I found signs point me in the right direction.  Strangely, however, the signs pointed me right to the hospital cafeteria.  OK.  “I guess the hallway picks up on the other side,” I thought.  There were people in the cafeteria.  Nameless faces who were shell-shocked with worry about loved ones or who were working through their shift so they could get home and watch the Astros on TV.  None spoke except when absolutely, and then only in hushed tones.  I hurried past, and into the hallway on the “Other Side.”  I followed the first arrow, picking up my pace, now eager to see James.  And that arrow led me to … nothing.  A long, empty corridor with blacked out windows on one side and empty walls of nothing on the other.  No doors. No people.  I decided to make the most of the adventure and pressed on.  Two turns and two empty corridors later, things began to get … eerie.  There.  I officially used the word.  Have you ever seen the movies where there are long white corridors … with those overhead lights … and one of them isn’t installed properly, so it keeps flickering on and off, on and off?  I was trapped in that movie, in that very hallway.  Not a sign of human beings in any direction.  Truly the stuff nightmares are made of.  The adventure was rapidly becoming, well, less fun.  My knee was aching.  My ankle was even sore from the yard work we did the other day.  But I kept going.  Limping this way and that, a turn here, an elevator ride there.  Until finally, to my amazement, I stumbled upon a familiar corridor.  I slowly walked that direction.  Pictures began to appear on the walls.  The air conditioning got noticeable colder.  And suddenly … a person.  A real human being.  Or as real as a medical student can be.  I didn’t have the nerve to ask if I could pinch him right then to see if he would react.  I just kept walking.  And finally, there it was.  The huge, brand new foyer of the JENNIE Sealy Hospital. 

Taking a deep breath I made my way to the elevators and punched in floor nine.  I eased around the loop of rooms until I came to 914.  And to my great relief, there was James, with his daughter and granddaughter.  We talked for a while and prayed before I left.  I shared the down elevator with a lady who was being released.  She made a comment about several floors being missing from the buttons.  In the spirit of the moment I asked whether anyone knew for sure if there was a thirteenth floor.  Hey, it’s almost October.  And after my recent experience, I wouldn’t discount anything.  Once I reached the ground floor again, I got to my car as fast as I could.  See, I still wasn’t convinced about this whole free parking thing.  I did manage to escape, however.  So you tell me … top ten, or no?

Psalms 102:15 says, “The nations will fear the name of the Lord, all the kings of the earth will revere your glory.”

Father thank you for the doctors taking care of James.  Give them wisdom to know what steps to take next in his care.  Amen.

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