One of the things I really enjoy is getting to see patients and families. It is true that making home visits can present some unique challenges, but it is also true that sometimes those challenges are of my own doing.
Some time ago, I had the chance to visit a patient who lived in a facility that had a security code on the door leading in. The code was changed frequently, so I knew that when I arrived, the code I had been given not likely to work. That would mean I’d have to use the intercom, which was often a long wait since the staff was busy.
As it happened this particular day, I arrived at the facility at the same time as someone else from the hospice team, and I knew she would have the latest entry code. Since I knew the patient’s family was expecting me, I hurried from my car to the door so I could enter with her and not have to wait.
It wasn’t until I went to the door of the room of my patient that I realized I had managed to grab my travel mug of coffee, but not my “little black bag” of medical instruments and tools. At first, I was feeling a bit panicked, since as a doctor, I was expected to examine the patient. I briefly considered going back out to my car, and finding out the door code. As I talked with the family, however, it was clear that an examination would not be helpful; the patient was clearly in her final hours.
The tools I needed were not the medical instruments, but my hands, to feel the patient’s pulse and gently hold her hand, and my presence, both for the patient and for her family. I really think having the other tools might have interfered with my visit that day. I did what I really needed to do, which was what the patient and family really needed. I sat there.
The saying is that God does not call the equipped, He equips the called. Clearly, that day, He equipped me, in this case by making me leave the equipment I would usually rely on, and trust in the tools He provided.
Last Updated: April 4, 2022