To the editor:
Spring, being a time of the land’s resurrection, is time to write this letter.
It was that kind of a morning when I walked out of the 100 Mile District General Hospital after my last shot of chemotherapy. I had received a big hug from the chemo nurse as I left the room, that angel with the sure and gentle hands, and I walked with a bounce and a grin on my face. Did I mention she called me by name?
Chemotherapy, though life saving, has a brutal side. Parts of my body I always took for granted, rebelled at the onslaught in unexpected and embarrassing ways, strange side-effects and complication upon complication.
A practical consequence of all that was the many trips to the doctor, the lab, and even emergency. It could be three trips in a week, or even twice in one day.
It was embarrassing to be there so frequently at a time when health-care resources are stretched so thinly and our health professionals are worked so hard.
I marvel at the people who work at the hospital – the nurses and the lab techs, the admitting people and the doctors. Never, through the months of treatment, did I receive anything but helpful and caring service, and the greatest of respect – never a hint of negativity, usually a smile and a brightness, always respect for me as a person.
They call you by name, sometimes your first to be friendly, and sometimes your last if they suspect you need it.
I wonder if they realize that when God wanted to show how much He loved us He did the same.
Quoted in Isaiah, God said, “Who do you think knit you together in your mother’s womb? I called you before you were born. I called you by name.”
Do they realize that by giving such personal attention, they are the instruments through which God continues to love in this world?
I hope so because it is a beautiful reality, and a wondrous mission in life.
To all of them at 100 Mile hospital, I say thank you, and “blessings on you.”
Peter Hart
Canim Lake
