My mother has been in the intensive care unit at St. Marys Hospital in Passaic for the past 18 days, following an unexpected respiratory arrest that brought both her lungs and heart to a halt. Thus, I’ve gotten to know something about hospital life; there’s nothing like hanging around an ICU for 6 hours each day (following a few hours in the emergency room at the start) to get a feel for things.
I must say that I’ve been impressed with many of the people working there. I’m still not a big fan of doctors, but the emergency room MD was pretty amazing in his low-key fashion. He was dancing his way through a non-stop chorus of chaos, making it all look well-rehearsed. The ER med tech guy who helped him was an amazingly intense young man. And most of the ICU nurses and technicians have done pretty well too.
I’ve been going back to my office for half-days during this time, and many of the people there are minor-league by comparison. The combination of human caring and professional intensity is entirely lacking amidst much of the support staff. Myself included, unfortunately.
I probably am romanticizing the hospital situation somewhat; there are problems and pettiness and employee gripes at St. Marys. It’s hard and sometimes nasty work, but when these folk go home they certainly are entitled to feel good about what they do for a living.
Next thought: since her respiratory incident, my mother has been in something of a coma, to a varying degree. She does open her eyes a fair amount, and sometimes seems quite aware of what is going on around her. But most of the time, she is not experiencing what we call “consciousness”. This is ironic to me, given the academic interest that I’ve taken on the topic of mind and self-awareness. I’ve read quite a few books and have devoted part of this web site to reviewing what I’ve learned from scientists, psychologists and philosophers about the complex interactions between brain, mind and self (and let’s not even get into stuff like “free will”). But I didn’t imagine that my own mother would soon be caught in the twilight world where those around her can only guess “what it is like” for her right now.
All of those good words and learned thoughts by the experts, professing to have a grasp on what our minds are and what goes on within them . . . You’d think I’d be well prepared to understand what my mother is going through. But no. When something really happens to the brain and mind of a real person, all of the learned thoughts and conceptual paradigms about our innermost life are “like straw” (as St. Thomas Aquinas said late in his life about the many words he had written trying to capture the essence of God).
