THE FACE OF GOD II.

Turning left out of the men’s room   in Lakeland Hospital

Not feeling well, but coherent I looked up to see

Blonde hair flying in the hallway- no breeze- just pure power.

She wore a green hospital coat and shoes that pounded  the hallway like

hunting boots.

And no smile – it was that unspoken  glare “come with me mister – you are

not going to pass out in my hallway” .

 Want sensitivity? attention,? warm fuzzy care – forget it:

 On the gurney, take shirt off: take a deep breath and suddenly the

mash medical corps  leaps into action: needles, IV’s monitors, grim whispers.

They poked and prodded asked me over and over again about blood thinner

and smoking and drinking and pain .

Sure, turn the Badger game  on – that will mollify this short chubby 70

year old.

Not a chance.  Blood pressure too high—another tube, more sideways glances.

Monitors beeping: red lights flashing:

 I knew this was not going to be a walk in the park.

In he walked, no sauntered: tall, somewhat slovenly, kinda unshaven with that

“ I take no prisoners approach”. Pushing here, squeezing legs there, he learned

his bedside manner in the military.  Approaching  the front of the bed: face to

face: my 1^st encounter in a long time with “ The Face of God” or was this

the Face of Death”? 

Then he said it, those dreaded words – you are not going home.  The words

were simple, direct. tone declarative – forget the debate, discussion, upcoming

 client meeting – we have a room for you upstairs.

The night time was = well you may have been there: nighttime is probing, and

IV’s and medicine,

Every hour a new “ HI, my name is Sally and I am your RN for the night etc etc.

No rest, no food, a continuing monitoring and prepping for the next day’s tests.

Just let me sleep and take the chest pain away, away away.

Ultrasound, Imaging machines, stress tests, doctor’s from India, and the

Ukraine, and Poland.

All this in tiny Elkhorn.

They  smiled, and made nonsense conversation about their cats, kids, freezing

plants..

Except for the stress test technician–  soft as pudding on the inside- tough on

the outside.

Aside the tread mill was a stress  chart. I quickly calculated why all the

attention was coming my way,why all the pseudo smiling staff – they were

sincere but also very concerned. High risk is a code phrase for big time trouble.

Another imaging exam.. Then Face of God, Face of Death 2 settled into the

chair beside my bed.  I knew the family name  from our time in Poland; his age t

elegraphed that his grandparents probably escaped the death mills of Aushwitz

and Birkenbau.

Trying to engage him in conversation about Warsaw he literally turned his

back.  God, how stupid can I be? This somewhat crippled 60 plus doctor is

trying to save my life – and I just ran a scimitar into the

depths of his soul.

 Really, really clever.. shut up and listen!

Answers? No, the human body is a mystery.  A new testing procedure is

available at St Lukes,  No options,  Get on Rte 43 and head north.  Out he walked

 to save other smart ass souls.

Forms, diet sheets, flu shot, pneumonia shot and it’s time to go.  The chirpy,

nurse’s aide who is  about to complete her  academics to become an RN

brought the wheelchair for a ride to the parking lot.

Smiling she looked me in the eyes and said – “they saved you didn’t they? You

are going to be ok.”

The Face of God comes to us in wonderfully unexpected packages.

Thanks Lakeland Medical Hospital for your care and expertise.

A FORGOTTEN CONCENTRATION CAMP – MAJDANEK

Like many country roads outside of Lublin, Poland there are no markers.
Miles of sun glistened farmland intersected by two lane farm roads.
Range roving chickens and cattle nonchalantly cross the roads.
Barely surviving farmers tend the fields, somehow supporting their families.

One can imagine children running and playing in this calm, provincial environment.
Smocks, caps, and shoes to protect them from the northern European sod.
Shoes for running, and playing, and enjoying the spirits of their youth.

Fifty years after World War ll there is a sense of eery quiet here.
As there are in many nearly forgotten corners of this proud nation.

One can easilyfollow the guide books to Aushwitz, BIerekenbau, Czestekova,
Buses of patriots, generations of those whose families perished,
The Catholic religious to see the miracle of the Black Madonna in the main church at Czestekova:
All find their way to these moving sites.

Approaching the unmarked cross roads, there are no signs to Lublin or other towns.
There are no buses: few venture here.
The road leads to MAJDANEK. .
According to the definitive work “Majdanek” by Edward Gwyn and Zofia Murkawsk-Gryn ,
This death camp is the last resting place for 360,000, Mainly Jews.

Yes, there is a small building that houses pamphlet stalls and a tiny movie theatre seating a few dozen.
The horrors of the film are such that only those over 12 years of age are permitted.
This is to prevent nightmares ( Canadians in our group disregarded this warning – their children had
nightmares for months). Shots of mass killings, starving inmates, bulldozers plowing
people into mass graves. Difficult and gut wrenching to watch.

Several prisoner barracks remain: Wooden in construction.
Barren, a temporary shelter before prisoners were cremated.

Remember the farm children we spoke about earlier?
The innocence of youth , the flowering of the next generation?
Recall the smell of new leather? Pungent, singular, unique.
Walk into this hell hole of a barracks and like Auswitz, there are
Thousands, yes I said thousands of shoes taken from the dead.
Close your eyes and picture thousands of shoes from infants, small children.
Helpless, dragged to the gas chambers, shot: starved, then bulldozed into mass graves.

The Grim Reaper’s incredible wrath.

Can you imagine the smell,, the stench of infant shoes … 70 years after the end of the war?
Imagine the pleading eyes of 2-3-4 children on their way to die.
The screams for their mothers! The panic of gloating death in the face of German killers?

At Aushwitz, the piles of shoes, luggage, handbags are sobering, tear wrenching.
Visitors are protected from the smell of death by glass partitions.
Not at Majdanek … death is raw, personal, tearing at your heart.
Every pair of empty shoes belonged to someone. Someone listed in a German
Transport Roll and/or camp document.

Consider the cruel power of madman dictators.
Think about those who kill the unborn in the guise of “choice”.

This horror in Poland is so great that roads are unmarked.
A legacy that a nation struggles to forget!
And you think the holocaust happened only in Dachau, Aushwitz and Bierkenbau ??
As a Catholic gentile, I can truly agree with my Jewish brethren -“ Never Again”.

Without trust love is not possible? Or without love there is no trust?

Without trust love is not possible? Or without love there is no trust?

According to Wikipedia, from a psychology standpoint, “ trust is believing the person whom you
trust to do what you expect.
Such a simple sounding word – trust: only 5 letters. One syllable.
So difficult to build, so easy to destroy.
Trust levels are injected into our psyche systems with the 1st two years of our lives.

Wow! What does that say about packing days old babies into parkas on a cold , snowy Wisconsin
morning, slinging them into the car: then dashing through the cold, into a sociological melee
we euphamistically call “ Daycare”? Hmm- wonder what Is going through their little minds as regards
trust?
Oh wait – there is more: the end of the 8 hour survival camp arrives with mom taking the child to
McDonalds for a nutritious meal while she shares “quality time” with her fiancee otherwise known as
her shacking up boy friend. Count the elements of trust in that paternalistic paradigm!

Sorry, I got side tracked.

A long time business associate recently did an end run and undercut me.. All those years of trust,
bonding, etc teetered on the edge of the bridge, wavered, and collapsed into the cold Fox River.
The proffered excuse “ I didn’t think about it”.. just more salt into the wound. An apology – delivered,
well kind of.

Causes me to meditate on the elements of trust.
I had a boss in Poland, Dr. Gail Schoppert. A brilliant educator, humorist, actor, and
a “ I’ve got your back” guy. He embodied trust in the sense that hewas always, meaning always,
be there to defend his staff, and students, against the slings and arrows of erroneous assaults.
Gail never talked about trust, or team work, or kumbaya relationships,.
His trust actions spoke volumes and mirrored his value systems. I wonder what the 1st two years of his
life were like at home? Day Care – I doubt it.

A parting query : So without trust love is not possible? Or without love there is no trust?

Trust - A learned gift