EMS Week

 Good morning.

 This week is the 50^th annual EMS Week.  EMS, for those who may not know, is the acronym for Emergency Medical Services.  There has been some form of emergency medical services since at least the 1800’s; however, the modern service we know now began to come into its own some 50 years ago with the passing into law of the EMS Systems Act of 1973.  That law provided funding for the creation of more than 300 EMS systems across the nation, as well as set aside funding for future planning and growth.  It was during this time that as EMS was establishing a stable foothold in the nation, emergency medicine began to establish itself as a distinct specialty.  EMS has continued to evolve over the past half century into a core critical sub specialty of emergency medicine.

According to one of the websites dedicated to EMS week, this week is set aside to (quote) “recognize the 50th anniversary of the first National EMS Week.  The quote continues,  “We honor those who came before us, especially those who challenged the status quo and raised the bar for all of us.  And at the same time, we look forward, building on their efforts and committing ourselves to forge a future for the next generation of EMS professionals to serve their communities.”  (Unquote)

The smock I am wearing today fits somewhat more tightly than it did some 30 or so years ago.  Either it has shrunk or I have grown.  And, of course, my time for active service has long passed.  No longer can I jump out of bed in the middle of the night when the pager goes off, dress, run to my vehicle and get to the ambulance garage within five minutes.  I haven’t kept up with the advances in emergency medicine over the past 20 or so years.  My training is somewhat more fuzzy now than it used to be.  And I just no longer have the energy…or the desire…to pull all-nighters…then go to work the next day.

Just like others in the service, I’ve seen things and done things that most other folks would just as soon not think about.  And because my service was in a small town in a small county in Kansas, I knew most of the people I was summoned to serve.  Lives turned upside down in a matter of minutes or even seconds.  Families suffering together in grief.  Children who no longer had a parent.  Some of my memories are very vivid.  Others, not so much anymore.  And because I also worked at the hospital where we took most of our patients, I also saw them there as they received the intervention they needed.

I’ll not go into the specifics of those memories here.  I usually reserve them for some kind of special occasion or in order to make a point during one of my teaching times at the church.  Although many memories fade over time, and the exactness of those memories changes somewhat, many are vivid enough even now that I believe I could re-tell them and tell them pretty much as they happened.

EMS has come a long way from the 1800’s, and even from the early days of the modern EMS system in the late 1960’s and the 70’s.  Many women and men have given much time, resources, and energy to the development and implementation of a modern pre-hospital medical care system.  Governments have poured billions of dollars into equipment, training, policy, procedure, and human resources.

Untold thousands of individuals have taken the training and have worked or now work on either a volunteer or paid basis to provide care to those in need.  Volunteer services, by the way, are the backbone of many smaller communities, mainly in rural areas.  And although the need is great, the number of people willing to take the training, pass the boards, and give of their time and energy is decreasing…sometimes to the point that pre-hospital care in those areas is unavailable or a great distance away.

One doesn’t need any kind of medical background in order to receive the training and instruction needed to become an EMT or Paramedic.  One just needs a desire to serve, compassion for those in need, and the physical ability to do the work.

I can tell you as a former EMT that the work is demanding, rewarding, sometimes mentally and emotionally exhausting, and satisfying.  If you know someone who works in pre-hospital care either as a volunteer or as a vocation, let them know you appreciate their service.  And understand that you never should take EMS services for granted or assume that an ambulance will always be available for you or a loved one.  In some locations, EMS is in a precarious position…in danger of going away entirely or becoming much more difficult to support.  Budget cuts, lack of volunteers, relatively low pay, and other factors are choking off good pre-hospital care in some areas.  In some places, there are few or no hospitals for ambulances to take their patients.

Just be aware.  Know what is happening in the pre-hospital care system.  And celebrate, along with us, EMS this week.

 Blessings.

Kingdom Work

 Good morning!

 I’ve heard several comments the past week or two about the month of May being a really busy month.  I agree.  Especially for those who have kids in school, May can be a really hectic month with graduations, concerts, field trips and other assorted school-related activities.  May can also bring things non-school related like spring house-cleaning, working outside in the yard, in the garden, and flower beds, Memorial Day plans, and other such activities.  Then there’s the daily press of whatever work we have to do, whether being the keeper of a home or working at an outside vocation.  May can be a busy, busy month.

Thankfully, at our stage of life, this Grandpa and Grandma have the luxury of sitting back just a little during the month of May.  Yes, we still have graduations concerts and the like.  We still are making Memorial Day plans.  And we have our routine, daily work to do.  But the whole tenor of life at this stage is more relaxed.  We can help in getting grand kids here or there for some activity.  We can certainly attend their various school events.  But we don’t have the worry of what they will be wearing, whether or not they brought everything they need to the event, whether we’re going to be late, or whatever other concern there might be.  We can, and do enjoy being helpers when needed, but we equally enjoy our quiet evenings at home and our not having to get up to an alarm in the morning.

Sometimes, though, even our lives have some measure of “hecticness” in them.  Earlier this week at work, I was sort-of slammed with several administrative issues at once…most all of them building maintenance related.  We had the plumber here for a day repairing a variety of plumbing issues that had cropped up recently.  Also, one of the new entrance doors that was recently installed wouldn’t unlock, so we put in a call to the installation people to come for that.  And, we had a lock on a custodial closet that wouldn’t open.  When we called our normal locksmith service, they said it would be over a week until they could come out.  We needed access to the closet sooner than that, so we scrambled to find a locksmith who could some sooner.  Then the plumber accidently overflowed a toilet he was working on so we had a water mess to clean up.  And we had a call in to the electrician we use to repair some outside security lighting.  They acknowledged our call, but haven’t responded to that yet to make repairs.

The new automatic door opener that we had recently installed on an entrance didn’t stay open long enough for someone to come in or go out, so we put a call in to the company to come and adjust the opener.  They will be here this afternoon for that.  And there were the usual assortment of phone calls, meetings, and visitors to the office that come along with the normal routine of work here at the church.

So, even for me this week has been rather hectic at work with several committee and board meetings, preparing a class for Wednesday evening, and dealing with all of the other work-related as well as school and family events.  And to top all of it off, I have had three medical appointments this week as well as picking up a food order from a local grocer to deliver to our  church food pantry.

I’m not complaining.  I enjoy being busy at work.  I am grateful that I have access to medical professionals.  I really enjoy going to concerts and other events that my grand kids are part of.  But I sometimes wonder if helping the plumber clean up a water mess in a restroom is really God’s work.  I wonder if calling the door company to fix the entrance door is kingdom business.  Sometimes what I do during working hours doesn’t at all seem like anything remotely spiritual in nature.  But just when I begin to feel like I’m in a very secular rut, I get something that brings me back to the reality of just what Kingdom work is.

During this hectic period earlier this week when we had several things going at once, I emailed our staff and Elders, letting them know what was happening regarding the plumbing, the door opener, and all the rest.  I received this comment back from our Curtis, our lead minister:  “Thank God you are here, or I would never get anything done!  Sheesh.”

Curtis knew that if there wasn’t someone such as myself to handle these things, he would have to do that himself.  Curtis has his own work to do.  He prepares a sermon and a Bible class each week.  He studies…reads…does visitation…counsels…and has his time fully occupied just doing what he’s doing now.  To put this kind of additional burden on him would be not only unproductive, but would possibly result in a kind of burnout that we see all too often among those who have chosen ministerial work.

So, yes, I am doing kingdom work when I summon the electrician to repair the security lighting.  I’m enabling Curtis and others on staff to do the work they are uniquely qualified to do, have been prepared by God to do, and are charged by the Elders to do.  The work I do is no less important than preparing and delivering a Sunday morning sermon, although it is less visible and is often not even noticed.  And that’s OK.

Blessings.

Two Thoughts

 Good morning!

 I have been thinking about a good subject for this Thursday Thought for several days now.  A variety of subjects have been running through my mind, but none have really taken hold in any significant way.  So, today, with a deadline quickly approaching, I find myself going over various subjects again, trying to come up with something that is appropriate for this forum.

A couple of things have sort of stuck, and I’ll just tell you what both of them are.  One is the incredible change in life, living, and society in the last 60 or more years.  I grew up in the 1950’s and 1960’s in the age of 21 inch black and white television, black dial-type wall phones, and enormous cars with engines the size of aircraft engines.  I wondered then, as many did, what the turn of the century would be like.  I wondered what life would be like in the years following that time in the mid 20^th century.  Back then, we had visions of routine space travel by everyone, flying cars, robots that would do everything for us, and the infamous Dick Tracy “two-way wrist TV.”

Of course, all of that was at that time nothing more than wishful thinking and dreaming.  However, today much of that and more is current technology.  Who, for example, could have dreamed of what we know as the cell phone today?  Think of the enormous impact that this one invention has had on the world, let alone the Internet…that goes right along with the phone.  And think of all of the other changes that have taken place in medicine, the environment, space travel and exploration, housing, transportation, agriculture, politics, and energy.  To say it’s mind-boggling is an understatement.

 The other thought has actually been in one of the above categories…medicine.  It used to be, when I was a younger lad, that I had little need of medical professionals.  In the early days of life, I seldom needed to see our family doc.  Oh, I got my vaccinations, and once in awhile needed to see him for some kind of injury.  Doctor Bush was an old-time family physician, doing everything from taking and interpreting his own x rays to giving injections, setting bones,  and stitching up minor wounds.  He and his wife Jenny, his nurse, brought me into the world, and kept us all going throughout the fifties and early sixties.

The clinic he operated was on a first-come-first-served basis.  No appointments.  You just showed up in the waiting area, took stock of who had come in before you, and took your turn.  Pretty simple, actually, and I never…and I mean never…had to pay a bill either before or after my visit.  And as an older child, I did see Dr. Bush, even without my parents knowing beforehand.  He treated me without first asking my parents for permission.  I presume my parents eventually got a bill, but was never sure.

Dr Bush lived modestly and worked hard.  He did house calls.  He delivered babies.  He ran a hospital until later on in the 1950’s.  He billed himself as Osteopath, Physician, and Surgeon.  His wife was a nurse, and was his right hand.  That was the way medicine was done then.

Now, I have I don’t know how many specialists in my health care stable.  Primary care, dermatology, cardiology, urology, physical therapy, ENT, chiropractic, dental, oral surgeon…did I leave anyone out?  And it seems that every other day or so I have this or that medical appointment or therapy.  I think sometimes I’m in a doctor’s office more than I’m at work.  I also have to either pay up front, or have good insurance in order to see anyone about a medical issue.  My, how things have changed.

I have at least six prescription medications I routinely take for blood pressure, cholesterol, and other conditions.  I’m doing exercises for my back and shoulder.  I’m in the middle of having dental implants.  And I sometimes think I’m gradually falling apart at the seams.  Of course, in a way, I AM falling apart.  As we all get older, we are less and less able to cope and adjust to the physical deterioration that inevitably happens.  It’s just a fact of life and living.

As I think about these two different, but somewhat related subjects, I still wonder what my topic for this Thursday Thought should be.  I really needn’t wonder, though, because the topic of this thought has turned out to be these two topics of my thoughts and how things…and times…have changed over the years.

I’ve often thought about my grandfather, born in 1870 and passing away in 1966.  I think of the enormous changes he saw in his lifetime…the automobile, space travel, television and radio, the polio vaccine, several wars, the demise of the gold standard for our currency, air travel, atomic energy, and many other foundational and incredible inventions, events, and occurrences.  And then I think of my own 70-odd years and how much has changed…and how much as stayed the same.

I am grateful for the time God has given me.  And I look forward to whatever time I have left.  I especially look ahead, though, to being in His presence, no longer needing medications, therapists, or dentists.

May God bless you today.

Icing On the Cake

 Today as I happened to look out the office door toward the Paxton’s Blessing Box we have next to our church building, I saw a man looking at, and taking some of what I had put in the box awhile ago.  I don’t always do this, but today decided that I’d go out and try to have some interaction with him.  Sometimes, that works.  Sometimes, I am ignored.  Other times the conversation is very guarded and short.  And sometimes it’s impossible to have a conversation with a person due to their mental illness.

Sensing that he was homeless, primarily due to his appearance, I watched as he carefully looked over what was in the box and had taken some of it.  He didn’t see me approach him.

I stopped about 20 feet away from him, for safety, and asked, “Do you have what you need?”  He turned, looked at me, and gave a sort of universal visual response that he didn’t understand what I said.  I moved a bit closer, thinking he may have been hearing impaired, and asked the question again.  He seemed a bit flustered when I asked the second time, but regained his composure and said that he was fine.

Sensing that he was amenable to visiting for a bit, and knowing I hadn’t put any water in the box, I asked if he needed water, and that we had some inside.  He said he could use some water.  I told him to hang out for a minute while I got some water.  I went inside, found a bottle of water along with a bottle of Gatorade, went back out, and said he could have either one or both.  He took both.

He then asked if we had socks or a T-shirt.  I said we didn’t have shirts, but I would go in and look for socks, knowing that we had some.  I found a new pair of socks, went back outside, and gave them to him.

This started a bigger conversation about his inability to get a valid identification.  I think he sensed that I was genuinely interested in his plight, and the words just seemed to cascade from him as he recounted his so-far futile efforts over the past several years to obtain a government ID.  I think, as with many of these people, he needed someone willing to listen, even if for just a couple of minutes, to what he had to say.  And, if what he said is even partly true, he is caught in a bureaucratic nightmare of stolen identification, several attempts by others to obtain his ID for themselves by fraud, his inability to access any information about his ID due to the information being locked down by the State because of the theft and fraud attempts, and no one who provides services who will or can help him navigate the bureaucratic maze.

He is eligible, if he had a valid ID, for food assistance, rent assistance, Social Security assistance, and other services.  Without the ID, however, all of the services he otherwise would qualify for are beyond his reach.  So, he’s on the street.

I asked our office manager if she knew who helped with ID.  The Salvation Army no longer helps with ID.  The Red Cross no longer helps with ID.  Center of Hope and Open Door do not provide assistance, according to this man.  I called 211 and got the information on another non-profit that the operator said helped with ID.  I gave it to the man, who took off right away for the address I had been given.  I told him I didn’t know this organization and wasn’t sure they could help.  He said, “Hey, it’s a lead,” and went on his way.

One thing I haven’t yet said about this encounter.  Somewhere between my first question asking him if he had what he needed, and telling him about a possible contact for help with his identification, he said this to me.  “You know, I have never had anyone ask me if I had what I needed.  Thank you.”

Yes, we were able to provide him with some food and water.  Yes, we gave him some socks.  And yes, we were able to give him a possible lead on his identification difficulty.  But I think what really counted…what really mattered to him was my question of asking him if he had what he needed.  That interaction…that question…immediately told him that I saw him as a human being, deserving of the dignity and respect that goes with being human.  It told him that I didn’t see him as homeless trash, a lazy, good-for-nothing, or a bleeding, open sore on society.

And let me say this as well…I’m nothing special.  I use that same question on many homeless at the Blessing Box who I choose to try to have interaction with.  It’s just a good way, I think, to pretty much immediately “size up” the person while keeping safety and physical distance in mind.  And, I’ve found that by far most of the people who are on the street will interact with me…will be cordial…will after a moment let their own guard down a bit…and will appreciate the brief conversation.

I know it can be daunting to try to make this kind of connection.  I’ve been working on it for over ten years, and at times still feel inadequate.  But it’s well worth the effort…especially when the church is involved, as we are here at RiverWalk.  I hold no illusion that I will see him at Sunday services or have a conversion as a result of our interaction.  But hopefully, I have given him a somewhat different and much better opinion of church, religion, and religious people by this brief encounter.

I truly hope and pray this man is able to get his identification and get on with life.  And I hope he stops by in a few months to show me his ID.  THAT would be icing on the cake.

 

Blessings.