Miracle of a Smile in the Hospital

February 1, 2008

Her doctor had scheduled the procedure for 12:00 noon with an arrival time of 11:00. I called my sister on the cell phone when I did not see them in the waiting room. “We are just a few minutes away,” my sister answered. “Just drive up to the handicapped parking area and I’ll get mom checked in while you park your car which, based on my own experience, could take a while.”

Grabbing my gloves, buttoning my coat and securing my earmuffs, I watched for my sister’s car. I remember thinking, “It is bone chilling cold; a typical January day in North Carolina.”

Walking into the short stay unit of the hospital last Thursday morning, I held my mother’s arm and looked for help. Filled with cars, the outside entrance looked as overwhelming as the inside entrance. To me it looked almost like shopping on the day after Thanksgiving, something I have only done once.

Mom was experiencing a considerable amount of discomfort so I knew we had to quickly move through the crowd to get her registered for admission. I scanned the crowd of people. That’s when I saw a kind gentleman at the desk. “Mom needs immediate help before she can complete any paperwork,” I whispered. He understood and said, “Let’s go this way.”

Following him while holding mom’s arm to steady her, it seemed like the man who led us had parted the Red Sea because all of a sudden we were beyond the crowd of people and were surrounded by nurses and technicians which scurried to attend to everything my mom needed.

My sister and I waited and switched chairs as different areas in the waiting room opened. With a blaring television and a discussion about recent murders, I turned to my sister and said, “I need less morbid information and more space.” Waiting is not currently one of my strengths but I am learning.

As my sister and I waited, I looked for the gentleman who had been exceptionally kind to mom as we entered the hospital. Holding a rectangular device which would buzz when the doctor was ready to talk, we continued to wait.

I turned toward the reception desk to look for the guy who had been so helpful. I walked toward him and asked, “What is your name?” Continuing, I said, “You were so kind to mom in an extremely challenging situation and you did so without any hesitation. I would like to know your name so I can write a letter about your exemplary service.”

He smiled. “My name is Tyronne,” he responded. His name badge was displayed but I only remembered the sea of people.

Thanks, Tyronne, for parting the Red Sea of people to help my mom, a miracle made possible by eye contact, a smile and a willing heart.

Angela Scott

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