Let Your YESTERDAYS ENHANCE Your TOMORROWS

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Let Your Yesterdays Enhance Your Tomorrows

By Connie Anderson

The woman’s horoscope said: Today, walk down a path that’s filled with both sad and happy memories. Then live tomorrow with new enthusiasm.

So Sarah did—and entered the local hospital via the front door and under her “own power,” which is not always so true for people.

Sarah first wandered toward the ER area. There she witnessed the hard work and commitment of the medical staff. The room was teeming with a wide variety of humanity, some alone and hurting, some drunk or high on drugs, and some had been in a fight. Ambulances arrived with the people badly injured in a two-car accident. The busy-ness increased by the minute—as did the staff’s intensity of care.

However, in the ER, Sarah also saw the family members of a loved one the staff was trying to help. Whew! Did that ever bring back memories—both bad and, happily, some very good?

Her youngest child, a daughter, had been in a car accident as a teenager, and these people took good care of her. When Sarah arrived at the ER, she remembered all the blood on her daughter’s body. She looked like she had been fighting with a team of boxers, not a single light pole. After the girl was cleaned up and checked over, the staff found that her injuries were mostly cuts bleeding like crazy, so she was able to go home the next day. Her injuries healed, and she grew up and became a good driver.

After a while, the intensity of “the ER” was too much for her, so Sarah forced herself to move on. 

Next stop was the maternity ward, and all the darling new babies secured behind the wall of glass. Each baby had its own bassinette, and some were wrapped in blue blankets; others in soft pink. Most healthy babies were sleeping soundly, while others had tubes attached to help them get ready to go home. Nurses took excellent care of the babies with special needs—but who takes care of the mother’s breaking heart?

Many years ago, Sarah’s second child was such a baby, but thankfully he survived and thrived. Her son did not come home from the hospital for several weeks, spending it in the pediatric care unit (ICU). She remembered all the great people who cared for and about him, and she still gets a lump in her throat when she thinks about how lovingly they also had cared for her. Stopping at this unit, the memories filled her with gratitude because she would see that grown son this weekend.

Slowly, she moved on to the pediatrics unit, where she glanced in the door and saw kids of all ages in their beds, some up and playing games with their good arm, while the other had a plaster cast on it. Those with more intensive health issues were bed-bound, and often a nurse was hunched over the child. Sarah thought about the kids, but mostly about their mothers who spend much of their time there just waiting and praying, and waiting some more, until their child can go home.

The oncology department on another floor was way too familiar to her as first her mother was there for weeks at a time, until she died of her cancer. Then her husband was diagnosed, and because she drove there so very many times over the days, weeks and months, it felt like her car could find its way to the hospital by itself. He’d come home for a while, then things got worse, and it was back to the hospital—until the final trip was only one way—followed by a path filled with grief and great sadness for her and their children.

Her mother, husband, as well as two children, had passed through the emergency room door for much-needed help. Now that she had refreshed her memories, her gratitude, and her sadness, she went home to her lonely house.

Hours later she woke from a nap and had a horrible feeling of not being able to breathe. Her only choice was to call an ambulance. Soon she arrived at the hospital through that familiar entrance and was rushed in to be cared for. Once she felt better, and her high level of panic had subsided, she could appreciate the importance of this day and the people caring for her every need.

The next day when the doctor felt she could go home, her son picked her up. Back home and sitting in the quiet, she made a pledge to herself: Starting today, if it needs to be said, I will say it. I will tell my children I love them and thank them for being the great people they are. If it needs to be done, I will do it.

Yesterday’s scare made Sarah realize she doesn’t have all the time in the world and does not know when it could be her last day. She posted this message by her easy chair to read every day:

You never know how much is “plenty of time," or when your last day is here—or that of your loved ones, so today is the day…use it wisely.

Share your words, hugs, love, and caring every day.