Harry

I mentioned in my October 28 blog entry that I broke my leg in January 2005. What I didn’t mention was when I was put into the Oak Grove Convalescent Center to recover in February. I was on kidney dialysis and did not have a way of going to Kidney Center from home. Sending me to the Convalescent Center gave me the opportunity to go to dialysis by way of their own vehicle, since it was covered by insurance. There were other dialysis patients who also went to the Kidney Center every other day.

When I was wheelchaired to my room at Oak Grove, I began to feel rather depressed about the situation I was in. It was a small room, rather devoid of excitement or interest, and I guess I began to feel a little sorry for myself. I am not old enough to be in a Nursing Home, or so I thought. Later I found people younger than me.

I noticed my room mate which I later learned was Harry. He was a 74 year old man who didn’t seem to have a very good outlook. And for good reason. He was there for several months, and had been in another nursing home for several months. It would be enough to drive me to distraction too. Furthermore, he had had colon surgery before and the resulting situation was not conducive to positive optimism. He was not a happy man, and the nurses were not very cordial to him either. They had to come to his assistance several times a day.

Because of my own perceived plight, I began to pay attention to him. He was on the other side of the curtain and I started talking to him, introducing myself. He was pleasant enough to me, but did not have anything good to say about the plight he was in, and the attitude of the nurses and caretakers. I began to talk to him about Universal Law, like begets like, in as simple terms as I understood it. What you put out returns to you in like manner.

Late that night, nurses woke us up to give us medication, probably sleeping pills. Two nurses were arguing with Harry. I asked my nurse, “Why are they arguing with him?” She replied, “Oh, he’s quite a difficult patient.”

I saw my opportunity to make my stay worthwhile. In the morning I continued to tell him about how to relate to people you don’t like, or don’t seem to like you. I told him that thoughts have power, and that our thoughts can create the reality we find ourselves in. You put out negative thoughts, negative thoughts and situations will return. Like begets like. You put out positive thoughts, and they will return in kind.

I suggested that when a nurse or caretaker comes to his assistance, think about something he likes about that person, no matter how he feels about that person. Turn the tables on the continuing situation. It will work.

I hoped it would work. I never coached a person like that before, especially a man older than I was and probably set in his ways. But throughout the weekend he gradually seemed to be more acquiescent. There was not as much commotion, although his needs were the same. You could justify his attitude by what he had to deal with. He could not run to the restroom and he often had to be cleaned up, is the plain description of his plight. He didn’t like it and the nurses had to constantly come to his aid, and his attitude had put them on the offensive sometimes.

But by Sunday he was a saint. The nurses exclaimed about his about-face attitude. It was something entirely different from the way they had to handle him before. He was actually pleasant. One nurse exclaimed, “Wes, what did you do to him?” I replied, “Nothing, he had it within him all the time.”

I had ordered an accordion and it happened to arrive at my home while I was in the nursing home. I asked that it be brought to me. Jim and Bonnie visited with me and brought it along. I started playing it, and patients from other rooms came around to see who was originating the music. And they had smiles on their faces. At one moment, when we were alone, a song came to me, with the words, and I played it for Harry. It had to do with our mutual confinement in this place. It was a bit bawdy, but fit the situation we were in, with words you should not repeat in Sunday School. It was the first time I saw him laugh.

Occasionally there was someone playing the piano. I took the opportunity to wheelchair myself over to the piano room, close the double doors, and play to my heart’s content. A nurse came and opened the doors wide. She explained that the patients want to hear. I’m not an accomplished piano player, but I tried to play songs that were uplifting for all the sorry people who needed to hear it. If it cheered me up, it most likely cheered others also.

Meanwhile, Lucy called the local radio station, WMAN and, by telephone, broadcast to the whole listening area the need for a driver for a patient who needs to go to dialysis three times a week. Four people responded and I picked one of them and signed myself out of the nursing home to finally go home. After a couple of weeks or so, I realized I could drive myself in spite of my full cast. It was on the left leg, and with an automatic drive there was no need to have to use it. It all worked out OK.

Quite a number of months passed. I had Harry’s home phone number and I called up his wife and asked about Harry. I was taken aback when she told me he had passed away.

My reasoning is that he needed to find a way to love in an unlovely situation, to come to terms with his own feelings, to make it easier to pass on without fear. God is in control of our lives when we allow it—and we can allow it in order to fulfill the reason for our existence. We have free will but God will answer us when we ask. God bless you, Harry, wherever you are.