Disclaimer: Due to federal HIPAA privacy laws the following is purely a fictionalized account of what MIGHT have happened :)
As I washed my hands, I thought about each of my residents, trying to decide who needed a little extra time from me that day. The census on F hall was low that day and I had some extra time to spare, which was pretty awesome. I thought about each of the residents and who most needed some encouragement and bedside time. Mr. Reilly came to mind immediately. He had been with me for about a week, a hospice patient, who had recently been discharged from the hospital to my facility after suffering cardiac arrest and being "saved" with intubation and CPR. Although he was 94 years old, there was apparently some confusion about his DNR status and when in doubt CPR is always performed. So after his hospitalization he was sent to my facility to die. Yes, he needed some extra time and I had some time to spare.
Mr. Reilly was a tall man and now very thin, gaunt and malnourished. He slept a lot, was unable to eat or drink, and required pain medication frequently. That morning he seemed restless, despite the pain medication I gave him earlier. I sat down beside him and took his hand, whispering, "Mr. Reilly?" His eyes opened and he sighed and he said, "You know I am dying..." Wow! Obviously he needed to talk and I immediately let him know I was there for him and sat down in the chair beside the head of his bed, still holding his hand.
I had a heart attack last August and I remember what an awful feeling the impending doom sensation was for me. I felt like the life in me was literally slowly slipping away, seeping out, separating my spirit from my body. I told Mr. Reilly about my heart attack and how I knew I was dying and that was a terrible feeling. I told him that I took his comment about impending death very seriously because often patients who feel they are dying are doing just that. His health condition was very grave and it appeared he did not have long to live. Inside I was praying that I could find the words to say that would offer him some peace and calm in this last storm of life and that I could convey to him that I understood how he felt and that he was important to me.
"Mr. Reilly, I take your feeling that you are dying very seriously and I love you and will be praying for you..." The words left my mouth and you would have thought I had slapped him. He pulled his hand away from mine and the look in his eyes was not human, but a scared, angry animal, and he almost hissed at me saying, "I guess you are a CHRISTIAN!?" He said the word Christian with such disdain and hate, as he closed his eyes tightly as if he were through with me completely. Hmmmmm, now I sighed, thinking about my next words. After a few seconds, I proceeded, explaining to him that yes, I was a follower of Jesus, at least I attempted to follow His tenets, and often failed. I told him that I was not there to push my beliefs on him but rather to offer him some comfort and love during this difficult time. He laid there in silence for a few minutes and as I stood up to leave I once again told him I cared for him and that I would be praying for him.
Then his eyes opened and he motioned for me to sit back down. I did and he said, "Well you know, you must be a weak, wobbly person to need Christian doctrine to lean on." I thought about that a second and explained that I did not feel that belief in Jesus was an indication of weakness although I understood that much of New Testament doctrine flew in the face of the world view most people adhered to because the Bible was clear that the Bible is nonsense to the non-believer. I remained calm, though I had been a bit scared in the beginning because I felt like I was staring in the face of a demon for a few seconds. But Mr. Reilly had little strength and he relaxed a bit and continued on his quest to convince me of the error of my ways.
Next he told me that I must be a fearful person. I thought back to the night of my heart attack and I don't remember being scared at all. I remember being sad, concerned for Tracy, Miranda, my Mom, my granddaughters who would never get to know me, yes, I remember feeling sadness for my loved ones and I remember feeling confused, trying to understand what was happening and to decide what to do but I honestly don't remember feeling scared or afraid. I told Mr. Reilly that no, I wasn't a fearful person even in the face of death. Then I asked him, "Are you afraid, Mr. Reilly?" Perhaps his outrage and anger was caused by his fear of death.
He quickly said, "No, I am not afraid of anything and you apparently are not honest with yourself because everyone is afraid of dying..." Everyone is afraid of dying except him and he appeared more afraid than most but unwilling to admit that fear. Next he started down the "God is bad and I want no part of a God Who would let me suffer like this!" path. I asked him about his life and if there was nothing he felt God had blessed him with? I knew he was a scientist, and chemist, and he began to inform me of all he was in his career, developing weapons of warfare during the Cold War and how he never received the recognition he deserved due to the secrecy of his research and projects. His bitterness was evident in his tone and once again he spoke about wanting nothing to do with a God Who allowed suffering and pain.
I have often heard people say that God is to blame for suffering, illness, plagues, disasters, death, every bad thing that happens on earth. I do not believe that is true but rather than attempt to offer long theological arguments, I merely explained that I was glad to serve a God Who I did not completely understand. It is evidence that He is much bigger, much more complex and much more knowing than me or any human. If I served a God Who could be fully understood and explained, that would make for a very small God, pretty much a human God with little wisdom, creativity, or ability. So I told him that I was not upset that I could not explain everything about God but that I trusted Him and knew one day He will make what I need to know clear. Mr. Reilly really had no response to that tactic.
I took a deep breath and continued on, hoping I did not make him angry again but trying to remind him of the many blessings he had in his life, intelligence, a good job, a loving family (I had seen them at his bedside several times) and apparently good health up until the past few weeks. Of course, in his eyes none of that was a blessing from God but rather what he deserved and worked for in life. Nothing I could say was going to change this man's mind and I silently prayed for the Holy Spirit to help Mr. Reilly in his blindness and deliver him from all the deceptions he was clinging to in these last days of his life. I stood up and told him one more time that I cared for him, and I would pray for him. He grunted his disdain, assuring me there was no reason.
The next day I worked as supervisor and did not have the opportunity to see Mr. Reilly. Something strange happened though when one of the techs down F hall told me about a dream she had the night before. She dreamed that she and I was were in Mr. Reilly's room and we were praying for him and it seemed we were trying to keep him from being pulled away. Now she knew nothing of my conversation with Mr. Reilly the day before and this dream impressed her tremendously and when she told me about it, I briefly filled her in on my conversation with Mr. Reilly. We both felt there was a battle going on for Mr. Reilly's soul and she had dreamed about the spiritual warfare we were currently engaged in, as she was praying for him, too.
On Monday I returned to patient care and found in report that Mr. Reilly was in a coma. All that evening I went to his bedside and prayed for him. Just before my shift ended I went to his bedside and took his hand and said, "Mr. Reilly, I don't know if you can hear me, but you are still breathing, so I know God is still dealing with you...reach out for Jesus' hand, I know He is reaching for you." There was no response and I prayed for him a while longer and then left for home. Mr. Reilly died about an hour after I left that night.
Before I left that night I had a chance to speak with Mr. Reilly's son who started our conversation by asking was I the one he had heard was praying for his father. I wasn't sure if he was going to complain but I admitted that it was me and some others and his son thanked me over and over, saying Mr. Reilly was a devoted atheist all his life. Mr. Reilly's wife (now deceased) was a Christian who spent her life trying to convince her husband to repent and turn to Jesus but according to his son, Mr. Reilly made fun of her and often became angry at her, calling her weak and a believer in fairy tales. I did not go in to much detail about my conversation with Mr. Reilly with his son, deciding to leave him with some hope that his father had changed his mind in the end. And he may have although I had no evidence of any change.
Mr. Reilly had taken God's blessings in life and then shook his fist at Him, blaming Him for all the bad in the world. Free will is one of the greatest dignities God gave mankind. Animals do not have choices to make regarding their willingness to follow their Creator. I have always believed that if Jesus walked the earth today, animals would bow to their Maker with no questions recognizing the One Who made everything that was. Mr. Reilly appeared to reject God until the very end although no one can say what was going on during his coma. I hope he reached out and took the hand of his Savior and that he is there in heaven, reunited with his loving, praying wife and the Seeker of his soul. I believe God sent him to Bethany for one last chance because God is good and merciful. The rest was up to Mr. Reilly.
