Third installment of the book!

I left Ted’s office and went back up the stairs to the Oncology floor. My plan was to visit a young man I had seen pacing the hallways. The census said he was twenty-three but he looked fifteen. He was tall, at least five foot ten but very thin. His arms and legs were like sticks and seemed too long for his body. The baseball cap he wore during his walks covered his hair and most of his acne-scarred face. Today, he was sitting on a bench near the elevators next to a very heavy woman. She had one hand resting on a folding chair and the other on the young man. A pillow covered with army camouflage fabric cushioned his skinny body. He was rummaging through a leather pouch. His name was Charlie and his diagnosis was testicular cancer.

“Hey you,” the heavy woman called. “Aren’t you the Chaplain?”
I nodded. “Was there something that you needed?”
“Yeah, my son wants to go outside and I’m too tired to take him out. He needs a wheelchair.”
“Oh.” I went off to get one.
It took both of us to get Charlie into the wheel chair. His arms were like cloth covered bones and his legs were like disconnected pins stuck onto his body. He had little control of whatever muscles he had left. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he sat down.
“I just want to sit in the sun.”
He pointed outside and we began the journey into a little courtyard. For once, there was sun and I guided his wheelchair over to another bench so I could sit down. He reached into the leather pouch and took out a cigarette and a lighter. He smiled at me. He was missing a few teeth and the ones he had left were discolored.
“Want a smoke?”
“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”
“Well, what do you do anyway? Just hang out?” He started blowing smoke rings.
“Not exactly. I’m here to help people with their spiritual needs.” His eyes were closed and he was quiet. His chest moved visibly with every breath.
“I’m having surgery tomorrow.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “They’re going to remove my testicles. That’s where the cancer is.” He waited. “That’s where the cancer is.”
The sun was hot for May. There was rain in the air and the entire atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive. Sweat was forming on my body and I just wanted to get up and run back into the hospital. I stayed seated.
“I’m only twenty-three.” The cigarette dropped from his fingers and laid smoking on the ground. We watched as the smoke gradually curled up and away. I thought about stepping on it but we both watched until the cigarette went out. Then I got up and took him back to his room.
I got called to Charlie’s room about five p.m. He’d barricaded the door with his bed and a large heavy chair. You could see everything through the window into his room.
The charge nurse looked harried. “He won’t let us in the room. It’s time for us to give him his meds. He needs these meds for his surgery tomorrow. I called his mother at home and she told me to call you.”
“Really!” I looked through the window and there was Charlie sitting in the corner of his room on the floor. The door moved slightly when I pushed on it. The staff helped and eventually I was able to slip inside.
“Give us a little time,” I said over my shoulder as I climbed over the bed and the chair. “Charlie?” He didn’t move. I picked up his pillow and brought it to him. He hugged it to his chest and I sat next to him on the floor. The two of us just sat there. Time stopped. It was just us, suspended in a moment.
“Charlie?” We both looked up. The nurse was inching her way into the room with a glass of water and a cup of pills. “It’s time.” She bent down, handed him the glass and spilled the pills into his hands. He took them all at once and we watched the nurse maneuver her way out of the room.
Charlie looked at me. “I can’t see God. But I know he’s really there. I know it now.” He struggled to get up. I helped him and he leaned on me as we walked over to his bed. I covered him up and he closed his eyes.
***

Ted was sitting in his office methodically spooning soup into his mouth. Once a week, at lunch time, I would arrive in his office and spill my guts about what was going on during my chaplaincy. We were also required to submit a journal every week detailing what was going on and our feelings. He read the journal and commented in the margins. Today, there was no question about how I was feeling. I was angry.
“This is craziness, this job.” I said. He continued eating. “Yesterday, I spent an hour sitting on the floor of this kid’s room doing nothing. I tried to pray but it just seemed so hopeless. There was nothing I could do for him but sit on the floor. Sit on the floor.” I repeated this again louder since it hadn’t gotten any reaction from Ted. We sat there in silence. The institutional clock in his office clicked away the seconds. It had somehow come off the wall and was sitting on top of a pile of papers, magazines, books and folders. The office was small and we had barely enough room to positions two chairs directly across from each other. I sat there reading the titles of the books on the shelf next to Ted. Addiction and Grace, Death and Dying, Basic Types of Pastoral Care…..
“Is this the kid with the Testicular cancer?” He set down the soup and started in on a salad.
“Yes.”
“So what was it like for you to sit with that kid?”
“What was it like?” Was he kidding? “It was brutal. I never felt more helpless in my life. He’s only 23! He’s a skeleton for heaven’s sake. Praying for him seems ludicrous. I mean after all, what am I supposed to pray for?
“So, you felt helpless. Probably not the feeling you are used to in your corporate life.”
“Of course not, I’m paid to solve problems.” A sense of frustration was starting to take over my entire body. I did not want to have this conversation. Ted should be focused on this poor kid who probably was waking up in recovery right this very moment maimed forever. He would never be able to have children. Something needed to be done.
“And you couldn’t solve this problem.” He had set his salad down on the bookshelf and was leaning toward me.
“Right.” Wasn’t that obvious? Wasn’t he listening?
“So, what did you do?”
“I sat with him.”
“And what was that like?”
“I told you!” I was practically screaming. “It was brutal.”
“What was it like for him?” Ted spoke softly.
“I don’t know. How could I know? I’m not 23 and dying.” Tears started. I could feel them in the corner of my eyes. I was not in the mood to cry in front of this person at this moment.
“Well, you wrote in your journal that he said he couldn’t see God but that he knew God was there.”
“Yeah, so?”
Ted leaned back and put his hand behind his head. He stared at me for a moment. “So, how do you think he knows God is there?”
“I have no idea.”
Now it was Ted’s turn to get frustrated. Although I noticed he seemed to control it. He took a deep breath.
“You sat with him and you are the chaplain.”
“But I’m not God.”
Ted laughed. “No, you are not God, but you get to be present to people in the name of God. People appreciate that kind of “presence” especially when they are ill.”
“Really.”
“Yes, Really. Why don’t you go up and see how he made it through the surgery? You can be aware of your ministry of presence.
On the long climb up eight flights of stairs, I wondered how I had come from fixing problems in corporate america to just being present in the midst of problems that were almost too difficult to contemplate. I really wanted to be able to “fix” the problems I was seeing in the hospital. What had I gotten myself into?
Charlie was in intensive care. He was wearing an oxygen mask and there were multiple bags of drugs attached to an IV pole. A technician was having trouble with the blood pressure cuff. It was just too big for his skinny arm. A nurse walked in and said “Get a cuff from Pediatric.” She glanced at my ID. “He needs prayers, this one.” She shook her head.
I sat in the chair next to the bed. He needs prayers so I should pray. Ok. God, this sucks. This kid is young and his body is failing and what the hell are you doing about it? What about all those miracles? Where are the miracles now? Look at him. I screamed this in my head and imagined pointing a finger at the bed. Where are you!
Charlie’s mother walked slowly into the room. She was carrying his army pillow and baseball cap. I got up from the chair and she immediately sat down.
“Oh honey, I’m so glad you were here with Charlie. It’s like having God watchin’ over him. It’s like God is right here. Yup, yesterday Charlie told me about you settin’ with him. You just sat there and didn’t talk at him. He said it was what it must be like to be with God. He said God would just be with him and not tell him stuff like it’s going to alright because it’s not going to be alright. He’s dying and he knows it and he just wants to know that God is with him. That’s what you did.” She was crying softly. “He wanted to be a soldier. He was willing to die for his country but now he’s dying because of the cancer. You go and be with other people now. I’ll stay with Charlie.”
I turned to leave.
“And honey?”
“Yes?”
“God Bless you.”
I made it to the Ladies room before I started to cry.