jakorte's blog

You know me.
I’m a crisis manager. Huge problem – no problem.

I analyze the alternatives and find multiple solutions. If one doesn’t work, I always have a back-up. I don’t easily freak out, melt down or otherwise turn into a blubbering idiot when faced with unusual emergencies. Sometimes, three days later, when I decide to take a deep breath and slow down the adrenaline rush, I may get kinda weepy in a burnt out sort of way.

You also know how many hours, days and weeks I've spent at UMH with Jeff. I know the hospital very well. With all the parking construction, I guess I ended up in the wrong garage because I found myself exiting the car park elevators at the south end of Mott. At 6:30 am, it was too early for the information desk to be open, and the two separate employees in scrubs I asked for help were either truly totally clueless or just didn't want to be bothered on their way home.

I stared at the map, and tried to get my bearings. Nothing looked familiar. Suddenly, I was frustrated to the point of tears. I started to leave, went back, started to leave, went back, and started to leave again. I must have been looking pretty confused, because someone with a badge approached me then. She didn't know where I should go either, and told me that she'd only been there a week. But, she said she knew someone who would know, and then walked me down to the Mott Badging Station. When we got there, she said to the woman behind the desk, "I already have my Visitor Badge, but this girl needs help." That just surprised me, she was a visitor?

Because I was already shaky, I started to actually cry. Don't know if it was lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of being there knowing Jeff wasn't, whatever. I grabbed a tissue and the desk clerk wrote down directions and drew me a map. I knew how to get to Radiology from the cafeteria, and it turned out that visitor knew how to get from Mott to the cafeteria, so she offered to walk with me. On the way there she kept an arm on my shoulder and told me it was ok to cry. You know how that works for me... more crying.

Just as we got to the cafeteria she hugged me and told me that one week ago her 14 year old son hung himself. He'd been at Mott in critical care since then. "Saturday was a good day," she said, "Yesterday was a bad one." Right, and I'm crying because I'm lost! I shared with her that I have a mentally ill sibling and told her about the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. I told her they would have a lot of resources for her and most importantly a support group where she could meet other parents. She hadn't known about it and seemed glad for the information.

I asked her if she believed that sometimes GOD puts us in the wrong place at the right time and she smiled. I told her my theory on GOD-smacks, and we agreed that this was one of those "Hey, you! Pay Attention!" times. I told her I would pray for her and her son, and then my elevator came. I'm emotionally exhausted. I didn't get her name. I wish I had given her my card. I didn’t remember the name of the desk clerk, either.

When I got back to my office, it took a few phone calls and transfers but I was eventually connected to the badging station. I explained who I was, what I had needed, and asked if she was the one who had drawn me the map. She was. I thanked her, and she said that made her day. I also filled out an online commendation form. Because, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she had to have provided excellent customer service twice. Once on whatever day the Mott mom had needed her, because that Mott mom knew exactly where to take me to get me the answer I needed. And then, she did it again for a ridiculously sniveling, weepy lost woman.

The only amusing part of this day was that the radiologist insisted that I take the acrylic stud out of my nose because she did not know what acrylic was. When I explained it was plastic, she said she still wasn't sure if that counted as metal or not, so I placated her and took it out. I didn’t realize she was standing there waiting for the back of the stud, until she asked for it. When I told her there wasn't one, she wanted to know what prevented the stud from flying out of my nose when I sneezed. For simplicity's sake, I just told her it was gravity, and smiled to myself. GOD had put me back in my regular world, alright.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning...
Lamentations 3:22-23