This week’s pre-Shabbos post appeared last night on the FB page of Rabbi Kara Tav, a chaplain and the manager of spiritual care at N.Y.U. Langone Brooklyn. It follows many many weeks describing heartbreaking stories of tragic deaths and the unstinting work and bravery of hospital staff stretched beyond all human limits. (For just one excerpt, see her post here from April 17 before reading the following). I’m honored to call Kara dear friend and my first student.
When I walked in this morning, the Surgical ICU had already called. Since our census of covid+ ICU patients is going down, the units are starting to reconfigure to what they once were.
The SICU was the first one to be a quarantine unit. I'll be honest, it was "the death unit." It is the last and most complicated to switch back, but now that we are having regular surgeries, the hospital needs the SICU back. This means shifting patients (delicate work), re-painting walls, waxing floors, replacing equipment; staff who were once like a family, and who were separated into far reaches of the hospital, are now returning. A homecoming of sorts.
The call was because the SICU team wanted us to come and "bless the space."
My mind races.
Thought #1: this isn't about the space as much as the people needing blessing.
Thought #2: transition is hard, no matter what.
Thought #3: fear of surge returning reigns.
Thought #4: they need to process what they've been through, but we don’t have the time or the place.
My chaplain (B.) and I arrive and it's so weird. There are no paper bags hanging, it’s empty, quiet and shiny clean. There are no patients - they are waiting around the hospital in other ICUs to be brought in. I know why they called. It's as if the place was inhabited with the spirits of all those who had so recently died really tough deaths, right there. I could see the faces of the ones I had "known."
The staff (nurses, doctors, clerks, painters, electricians...) gather quietly and we begin with a spontaneous prayer for the reunion of this family, which ends with the idea that God works through their hands, and no matter what they've been through, healing still happens. We distribute little slips of paper with the chorus to this song (how do I even know this hymn??):
Sanctuary https://youtu.be/o_eIJalH8z4 [M: The first two or three repetitions are inclusive and universal, later ones Christological.] And we hum and sing. And boy, do we cry. And I say the shehechiyanu blessing (thanking God for sustaining us, and bringing us to this new time) and explain that we are grateful to see the re-dedication of this temple, this sacred space of healing. We asked everyone to say what they were feeling (we heard things like excitement, anxiety, fear, relief, anger...) and when the room got quiet, we sang again.
We thanked them for asking us to help with their transition and said goodbye. I moved on, with damp cheeks, to palliative rounds (A. sitting up in a chair and practicing deep breaths!!).
The song stayed with me all day long...
What is your gratitude this week as you enter Shabbos?
Wishing you blessings, peace, rest, renewal.