I stopped just after I entered through the door. The
emergency room was bustling with nurses and patients. I turned around to leave but then I stopped
again. I was still standing in the
entrance when the attendant at the counter noticed me.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I… don’t know if I really have an emergency,” I stammered.
“What’s the problem, sir?”
“My chest hurts… and…” And then I started crying and
couldn’t stop.
It became a blur at that point. I remember a nurse came
and guided me to a room. She spoke softly as she took my blood pressure, pulse,
and temperature. Then she pasted a bunch of electrodes all over my chest and
back. She left the room saying the
doctor would see me as soon as he could.
She came back to check on me a couple of times.
It wasn’t my heart. It was an anxiety attack. I’d been having them often, only not as
severe. Before I left my job at the church I had one every Sunday morning
before people arrived for the service.
My chest and head would pound, I couldn’t breathe, and I’d get dizzy and
nauseated. I knew it was anxiety so I tamped
it down by focusing on the people in front of me. But that weekday the pain in my chest came
and wouldn’t go away. In fact it became
worse which is why I went to the ER.
It was embarrassing. I hated telling anyone that I was
panicking when there was no emergency. On
the other hand, I guess I was having an ongoing emergency and my heart was in pain as I faced major
changes in my home and career.
Late in the afternoon they took all the electrodes off me
and told me to go home and relax.
That next week, a young couple who didn’t attend my
church asked me to perform their wedding.
They came to my office and we discussed the particulars of the ceremony. When I asked what they did for
a living, the woman surprised me when she said she was a nurse at the ER.
“Did you see me when I was there last week?” I asked.
She nodded. I felt the embarrassment and I didn’t know
what to say. I was the pastor giving
advice and instruction yet she had seen me as a blubbering mess.
“Are you comfortable,” I said, “with my doing your
ceremony?”
She smiled and said, “Sure, if you are.”
We continued the session.
A few weeks later I performed the wedding. As I had her repeat the
vows, my memory came back and I realized she was the nurse who actually took care of me.
After the service I hugged her and said, “I didn’t
remember you until just now.”
She understood.
If I were still a minister I might tack on a verse or
spiritual observation at this point. But
really… I got nothing. I wrote this so
people would understand how bad I was feeling when I left. But I also wrote so
I wouldn’t forget that a person I was assigned to help had already helped
me.
