Residency take-away 5 of 5.
It took me a while because I knew that once I wrote it, it would be definitively final and I wasn’t ready. I guess I’m ready now.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow was my favorite song in the Wizard of Oz. Then that Hawiian guy did a remix of it, and then there was the Over The Rainbow/What a Wonderful World Mashup, and then my residency happened and one of my peers wrote a theology of pastoral care paper on the time he played Over The Rainbow on his ukulele for a patient and dad and they talked of the day when the patient would one day run, not wheel, down the road bd be able to speak.
And now that song means something totally different to me. It holds the tension of troubles with the hope of the day they will melt like lemon drops. Whenever I hear that song, I think of the many patients and families who will live on in my heart because either their troubles or their hope or the struggle to coexist with both impressed themselves there forever.
Somewhere over the rainbow, kids will be able to be kids. Dialysis, CVVH, pheresis, chemo, ventilators will not be a part of their vocabulary.
Somewhere over the rainbow, my violin and Bill’s ukulele will play a duet again, and the long term patient we spent a year playing for will come running, not rolling, to us to thank us for loving him- with clear, trach-less speech.
Somewhere over the rainbow, children who received organs from our kids and the organ donors will pose together for selfies and snap chats and their parents will share their stories over coffee and donuts (because somewhere over the rainbow, calories don’t count).
Somewhere over the rainbow, parents and children who parted too soon will never say goodbye again.
Somewhere over the rainbow, Astrid, Bill, Brooks, Duncan, Idowu, Jason, Martha, Laurie, Brenda, Bonnie, Carol, Darryl, Michelle, Rosie and I will be able to have lunch together whenever we want for the rest of our days. And Button.
Somewhere over the rainbow…