I wrote last week about where I work. This week that post continues in a whole new light and perspective.
See, Friday night there was an accident at the home. My manager had just left and everyone was heading to bed. I was hoping for a quiet night. Things had been busy since I walked in the door. In a place where people can barely get around, it is surprising how fast paced things are. Plus we had just finished a fire drill timed by the manager and the drill caused plenty of stress, for everyone. Falls happen. This particular fall caused a cracked head, concussion and required hourly monitoring. However, with the constant checking up on this resident the only person who didn't sleep that night was me.
Saturday was pretty normal. Until I was halfway through mopping the entry way and felt the need to pause in my work and listen. I heard a quiet moan coming from the room of the resident who had fallen the night before. Upon entering the room I noticed the bathroom light on, "Unusual for her," I thought. I peeked in and found her sitting, more of wedged between a tall wooden chair and the toilet. She had clearly passed out and had fallen again. Thankfully I had my cell phone with me and called the manager and then the nurse. The resident's arm had been cut during the fall. By the time the nurse and manager arrived she was barely becoming conscious. But it wasn't enough. When the nurse tried to move her, she lost consciousness again. Within minutes she had stopped breathing and began having stroke-like symptoms. Moments later she was gone.
I had never seen someone die before. I have never wanted such a "privilege" and still do not want it. In accordance to the Do Not Resuscitate Orders I had to fight myself to repress my urge to do what I have been trained to do, give CPR. Have you ever had something like that happen? You had to fight yourself from doing what comes naturally? It is a wretched feeling.
And while this post is longer than normal there is something I very much wanted to say. Friday night I went in to check on the resident and felt the urge, the driving urge, the "do this, NOW" pull of the Holy Spirit to pray the Divine Mercy chaplet. I began quietly praying and then as I proceeded I felt the need to kneel down and continue praying with greater confidence and faith. As I did so, I could feel the fact that something else wanted her, and it wasn't good. But God was with me and I was fighting for my resident. When I finished praying I could feel the peace in the room and knew that she was entrusted to God. Then on Saturday I felt a similar calling, "Pray the Divine Mercy Claire," from God and so I began, moments later I was lead to be quiet and listen and that's when I heard the resident moaning in her room. I truly believe that when I felt the direction to pray that Saturday afternoon it was at or very close to the moment that she had fallen again.
Going back the scene where the nurse was trying to help the resident after her fall on Saturday, I went back to praying the rest of the Divine Mercy chaplet, whispering the words to God and waiting for directions if I was needed. I continued praying a couple of minutes even after she had died but never finished the prayer as it was written. I didn't need too. It was as if God had been gently put His hand on my shoulder and was saying, "It's ok, you don't need to say the whole thing, I have her. Thank you for praying for her." There was a flood of peace and subtle joy in my heart and I knew she was doing well. Tears fell down my cheeks, not because I was sad but because I was tired and relieved, she is in a better place (and I'm not just saying that, I truly believe it).
Last week I had written my manager's statement, "They always go in three's." I dearly hope she is wrong. Also this week just shows how little I know about when someone's time comes, I never would have thought she would have been leaving so soon.
p.s. I would recommend looking up the Divine Mercy chaplet- it is a powerful prayer request to God for mercy.
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