Last week we admitted a lady who weighs some 300+lbs. I admit that I had difficulty seeing beyond that at first (although I was the one who stuck up for her on rounds, and proved from her old records that her current complaints were real, not imaginary); but after talking with her for a couple of mornings, I realized that she’s a very nice person, not drug-seeking at all (yes, we have nasty suspicious minds around here), who is actually trying to cope with her illnesses rather than just giving up and complaining because no one else can rescue her.

Anyway, after about five days of taking care of her, I started to feel as though I needed to talk to her about spiritual things. I made excuses, and kept putting it off. She was supposed to be discharged for the last three days, and something kept coming up to keep her from leaving.

Finally, I gave in and did what I had been told to do. After talking for 15 minutes about her medical issues this morning, I told her I had been praying for her, and asked if there was anything besides her health that she would like prayer for. She burst into tears and started to tell me all about her spiritual struggles and concerns. We talked for another ten minutes, and I left, thanking God that he hadn’t let go of me until I had talked to her. I would have missed so much if I’d managed to dodge his directions for another day.