Daffodils

March, 1984. I lay in bed at the MIT Infirmary.  A man walked in to my room wearing a trench coat, carrying what appeared to be an upside-down paper sack.  He placed it on the hospital tray in front of me and lifted the bag up to reveal a glass vase of daffodils. Surprised, I looked this man in the eyes and thanked him and tried desperately to remember where I had met him before. He answered my question,

            "We met in the emergency room waiting for x-rays.  You were so kind to me and made me so happy when I had been feeling so depressed about dislocating my shoulder. You were so happy and pleasant even though I knew you were in worse shape than I was. I wanted to thank you for making me feel good."

It came rushing back to me. We had, indeed met in the hospital hallway in line during x-rays.  Each of us was in a gurney, adorned in hospital gowns.  I had just been hit by a car while I was crossing Mass Avenue.  My left knee was killing me. There was nothing to be done except wait for others to diagnose my condition and fix me. I was glad to have company, another human. So I made pleasant small talk. I'm sure I looked like a wreck since my face had been scraped up from the road.

            "What are you in for?" I turned back towards his gurney and asked pleasantly.

            "I was hit by a car when I was riding my bike and I dislocated my shoulder," he replied "and you?"

            "Depressed tibial plateau, detached anterior cruciate ligament and crushed meniscus." I responded with a proud smile, doing my best to quote my diagnosis exactly. At the time I did not understand that my recovery would involve surgery and a year of exercises and hard work before I could walk without pain.

Daffodils remind me of this time in my life, when my well being lay in the hands of others but I still could brighten the day for another human being even in my compromised physical condition by being emotionally present.  The ability to separate oneself from one's body is one of the themes in Mitch Albom's Tuesdays With Morrie. It is a great book.  The book reminded me of something that I already knew from experience.  Please always remember that even from a hospital bed, it is possible to brighten the day for another human being, Conversely, always remember that we can share joyful moments with anybody we meet regardless of anybody's physical condition.  Although it is always preferable to enjoy good health, it is indeed possible to separate our spirit from our body and to be fully emotionally present for another human being.