Exceptional Christmas Eve in the Intensive Care Unit Star Light, Star Bright. by Janilou Strong Character contest entry Dedicated to those who have given up hope. God loves you.

Category:  Spiritual Fiction   Posted:  June 27, 2007      Views: 472

ABOUT JANILOU  Janilou is a woman who loves God. Much of her work reflects her faith. Christian music often inspires her work. She is honored to have been named FanStory's Short Works Author Of The Year, in 2007 and 2008, and thanks all of her wonderful fans for the ranking. Their comments and support are her inspiration! She writes whenever her dairy goats allow her to escape the milking barn. If she's not on FanStory, you might find her on Facebook, using her real name, Jan Anderegg. Quote Of The Day: "Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: Always try to be a little kinder than is necessary." Sir James M Barrie She has won several contests. The contest submission Death By Taxes was the first place winner in the contest Strong Character. Boys Will Be Boys was the first place winner in the contest Strong Character. Twas The Night Before - Say What? was the first place winner in the contest Strong Character. She is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #41 position. The Seal of Quality committee has rewarded her with 2 seals. Portfolio | Become A Fan Fighting  waves of weariness, I released my grip on my patient's limp wrist. Pulse is weak and rapid. His dark-skinned arm flopped back onto the stark, white sheet. Part human, part zombie, with his eyes taped shut to keep them from drying out, even though we knew he'd never use them again. I hated looking after comatose patients: the living dead, whose hope for recovery made winning the lottery seem simple in comparison.  Thirty-five minutes left. Hope I don't get this room again tomorrow morning.  Screeeccchhh!  Having just arrived, an old woman pulled a chair away from the window and I shuddered as the metal legs skidded across the white vinyl floor tiles.  "Good evening, Nurse," she said, tugging on the chair. "I'm Nathan's grandmother." The staff told me she came every day at eight and stayed until the last bus left at night for her home in a neighboring suburb.  I smiled. "Good evening. Let me help you."   Wiping her wrinkled brow, she exhaled. "Thank you, missie. I'd appreciate that. I'm late tonight. Had to visit another young man in the hospital and give him a Christmas present. Are you new?"  "No, ma'am. I'm an agency nurse. They call me in to work here in the I.C.U. when they're short-handed. Being Christmas Eve, they needed the extra hands." I smiled and she beamed back at me, but the resident grief etched across her face, reminded me of the great tragedy she'd endured. Her grandson's medical notes made for some horrific reading.  Scribbling down the pulse and blood-pressure reading, I slipped around the bed, and lifted the chair as close to the bed as it would go. "Would you like me to put the bed-rail down?"  Seeing her nod, I reached over and collapsed the rail, before helping her into the chair.  "Infernal machines. They never hush," she muttered.  The constant beeping, whirring and whooshing of the ventilator and heart monitors kept up their evening serenade like frogs and crickets by a pond, as daylight vanished outside the double-pane window behind the bed.  "How was his day, Nurse? Any change?"  Looking up from my chart, I noted the glimmer of hope. My mind raced through my shift, searching for a single event, anything I could say to bring some promise of improvement. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.  Her face fell. "Ah, I see. No Christmas miracle this year."  My heart twisted, and an uncomfortable warmth spread up my cheeks. "I'm sorry. The morning nurse did say he seemed less restless." I watched her take her grandson's limp hand in her own and stroke his smooth skin. Leaning against the bed, she spoke to her grandson in a soft whisper. "Nathaniel John, you listen here. You're all I have left in the whole, wide world, and Lord knows, I won't have you giving up on me. You need to get better, you hear? Land sakes, you're only sixteen years old. Just a youngster."  The rhythmic beeping of his heart-monitor didn't alter. I eased myself onto the stool at the end of his bed and thought of what I'd read in his notes. Bradford, Nathaniel J. Multiple Trauma as a result of M.V.A. Head injury. All other members of family D.O.A. at St. Luke's Medical Center.  A yellow sticky note taped to the nurse's work station read: "Do not discuss accident or patient's condition with members of press."  The other survivor of this tragic accident was the eighteen-year-old driver who'd crossed the yellow line and wiped out this woman's entire family. Seven people died that day. Her grandson wouldn't see the end of the week, barring that miracle Nellie was wishing for. Even in a big city, the sensationalism of a multiple-fatality car accident in the holiday season attracted the media's attention. Cameras poised, the vultures hovered, waiting for another young man to die.  The howling of an approaching siren grew louder as yet another ambulance approached the hospital. Slipping from my seat, I walked across the room. "Would you like me to shut the blind, Mrs. Bradford?" Somehow, shutting out the night seemed to lessen the impact of those constant reminders of another life in crisis, another family's holiday ruined.  The old lady looked up. "Now, missie, I can't see God's stars if you go and do that."  I looked out the window. Thousands of city lights streamed into the sky, blinding the universe, erasing the stars from view. God's stars indeed. How could there be a God who allowed such pain and suffering? God's stars indeed. You can't see a thing out there.  Mrs. Bradford stood and hobbled over to join me at the window. She placed a gnarled hand on my shoulder. "Ah, I know what you're thinking." She clucked her tongue as though she were scolding a rebellious youngster. "Just 'cause you can't see any stars, doesn't mean for a moment they aren't there.  "I can close my eyes and see every one of them, glittering diamonds sewn into a velvet blanket by God's hand. Why, as a child, I used to lie out on my lawn with my brothers, and watch them for hours. Look again, child. Can't you see them?"  She pointed, peering into the ocher haze.  I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I don't."  Nellie's wizened eyes searched mine. "That's because you have to look with your heart," she whispered. "Just because you can't see Him, doesn't mean He isn't there, either." She glanced back at her comatose grandson. "When I was a little girl, one of those poor stars would fall to earth every now and then. My mama told me God stays up all night, searching for fallen stars. Even though they look so dull and ugly here on the ground, He knows them by name. Gathering them up, he takes them home to heaven, and restores them to new life, where they shine brighter than ever before."  Head nodding ever so slightly, she searched the sky. "Star light, star bright, help us feel God's love tonight."  I stood motionless by her side.  She looked away from the window and sighed. "Nurse, I'm asking God to heal my grandson. He's all I have left. Nathaniel's father was my only child. His sweet mother, Hannah, and my other grand-babies, oh, sometimes I can't stand to think of how much I miss them all. I'm not sure I can go on without my darlings, but I'll do my best, if it be God's will. Seeing His stars in my heart brings me hope and lets me feel His mighty presence. If I can't hope, what do I have left?"  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bradford. Of course you should hope. There's always h-hope," I lied.  Patting my hand, she shuffled across the room and sank into the chair. "Call me Nellie. What's your given name, child?"  "Elizabeth."  She nodded her approval.  I glanced at my watch. Where did the time go? I only have a few minutes left. Under Nellie's warm gaze, I moved around the bed, repositioning the pillow between her grandson's legs, speaking to him as I worked. Pulling the covers up, I turned to Nellie. "I don't know if he can hear me."  She smiled. "Perhaps he can. You handle him so gentle-like. You care about him, don't you? I can see it. You're a born nurse." Her gaze fell onto my left hand and a frown flitted across her face. "Where's your wedding band, girl?"  Stunned by her scolding tone, I looked down. The pale shadow where my ring usually hugged my skin, left a ghostly reminder of what should have been.  "My husband left me." Smoothing the sheets, I fussed over her grandson, taking a washcloth and wiping beads of sweat from his brow as tears stung my eyes. Why did I tell her? What's wrong with me?  "You still love him, don't you?"  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.  Nellie stared at me, hands pressed together, with tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. "Poor Elizabeth," she whispered. "It'll be all right. You'll see. God knows how much you're hurting. He loves you, child. Don't stop believing when life gets hard. Why, that's when you need Him the most." She paused, took a deep breath and gripped my hand, pulling me forward into an embrace. "You have to trust Him. He can't help you if you don't believe."  The sweet scent of lavender filled my nostrils. How does she know I don't believe in God anymore?  The night nurse, Susan, bustled into the room. "Merry Christmas! Good evening, Nellie. I see you made it in okay. I was a little worried about you with that freezing rain we had earlier. I'll be Nathaniel's nurse again tonight. Let me get the 'handover' from Liz. Then I'll go make you a cup of hot tea before you head home. Don't miss the bus. They're running on a holiday schedule, you know."  Nellie smiled. "Bless your heart, Susan. That would be delightful." Susan and I retreated to the hallway.  "Isn't she a doll?" Susan asked. She continued, not waiting for my response. "It's nice to see you again, Elizabeth. Any plans for tonight?"  I shook my head. "No, I have to work in the morning."  Susan's eyes widened. "The Christmas Day, red-eye shift, huh? Well, it will be worth it when the paycheck arrives. Nellie is amazing, you know. Do you know what she does? Every night, before she comes here, she goes to visit the young man who caused the accident. He's up on the fourth floor. She sits with him for a while, and prays with his family. She picks flowers from her garden, and brings them to his mother, because they live in an apartment with no gardens."  "Doesn't surprise me a bit," I said, looking back into the room. The soft tones of Mary, Did You Know, drifted out on wavering notes as Nellie sang to her grandson.  After giving Susan a brief summary of my patient's condition, I walked back into the room and touched my patient's brow.  "Goodnight, Nathaniel." Looking at the saint sitting beside him, I added, "Goodnight, Nellie. I hope he gets better soon."  "He will, child. Either down here on earth with me, or in heaven with his Maker." Reaching over, she squeezed my hand and whispered, "The stars will shine again for you too, Elizabeth. Fill your heart with forgiveness and love for your husband. If he asks, give him another chance. Who knows what might happen? Maybe it's your turn for a miracle."  "Thank you. Merry Christmas, Nellie." I left the room before she could see my tears.  Outside in the yellow haze, an ambulance roared around me, red lights reflecting off my name badge as I waited for my taxi to arrive. The massive hospital building loomed in the shadows behind me, each room containing someone's life, and their unwritten future, unfolding with each shift change.  Looking into the hazy sky, I still couldn't see the stars. Hope. God's Love. Christmas miracles.  Nellie's words fluttered through my empty heart like fireflies on a summer's night bringing light to the darkness. An angel on earth in grandmother clothing. Sitting by her dying grandson's bed, she'd wept not for herself, or him, but for me.  Where do you find unselfish love like that?  Ignoring the drizzle stinging my cheeks, I lifted my face to the heavens and whispered, "Star light, star bright -- help me feel God's love tonight." Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Author Notes ICU - Intensive Care Unit D.O.A. Dead On Arrival Resubmitting this story after extensive editing. Thanks for reading! Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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