A tech walking by my room poked her head inside and asked if I needed any help.
My eyes welled up and the tears spilled over.
"Now I can't finish out my shift knowing one of my patients is upset! What's wrong honey?"
Five days earlier I had been through an assault on my person the likes of which I could never have imagined. Because of God's grace, I was able to experience that part of the journey with Inexplicable Peace.
But although I had endured a nine and a half hour surgery, although I now sported scars across my chest and hips, although I had six drains coming out of my body, although I still didn't know exactly what the cancer diagnosis held, I had not cried.
"I'm filthy" I responded. "It's been five days and my body and my hair haven't seen a drop of water. My gown has not been changed. I just can't stand myself and I can't help myself either."
"No need to cry sweetie. I'll be right back."
It seemed like a silly thing to be upset about given all I'd undergone, but I was exhausted and having seen myself in the bathroom mirror caused all the emotions to bubble over.
My angel of mercy was named Mary and she returned with two tubs of water - one soapy, one clear - and a pile of wash cloths.
She dunked one of the cloths in the clear water and handed it to me.
"Why don't you clean your face and neck and I'll help you with the rest."
She helped me remove the hospital gown and spent the next twenty minutes washing my arms, back and legs taking great care not to get close to all the scars and drains.
Mary gave me one last cloth and asked if I wanted a minute alone to clean my "private areas."
I laughed.
Over the past five days dozens of people had seen more of me than I ever thought I would expose to strangers.
I responded "there's not much private anymore."
Truly nothing was private. For days an endless barrage of doctors, nurses, techs, interns, and PAs had filtered through my room, moving aside my gown to draw blood, take vitals, Doppler my incisions to ensure blood flow, empty drains, and examine surgical sites.
Since the type of reconstruction I had was a fairly new procedure, there were many comments made as "viewers" wondered aloud at how fascinating it all was, forgetting I was there, the recipient of the medical marvel.
It was a humbling experience on many levels.
But this sweet woman had seen past all that and dealt first with my emotional need as she helped with the physical one.
I know sponge baths were part of what she did each day, but she never made me feel I was just a job duty. I was a hurting person who needed comforting.
The last thing she did was help me don a clean gown. What a difference!
I tear up just writing about this simple act of kindness that left me feeling better about myself and gave me strength to face a new day of assaults on my privacy.
Do you feel "filthy"? Has life beaten you up and left you feeling scarred? Does it seem that everyone is talking about you but no one is relating to you?
Express it to God. He sees the need and wants to help you if you'll let Him. He'll painstakingly wash away the dirt, tend to your wounds, and show you how much He cares. He will drape you in clean garments and give you strength to face the day because His mercies are new each morning.
I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live. Psalm 116:1-2
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