Will’s Stomach

Will is nauseated much of the time, and his medications give life an “out of focus” feel. He speaks seldom, and then only in a whisper.

As a housekeeper stirs about his room, Will suddenly speaks to her clearly.

“I smell bread baking, and that’s the best smell on earth!”

Surprised, the housekeeper sniffs the air—and smells nothing out of the ordinary.

“When the bread is ready,” Will asks, “may I have a big thick slice with butter?”

“Let me check,” the housekeeper answers as she slips out the door.

It took approvals from Will’s doctor, nurse, dietitian, and wife, but soon the floor’s bread maker was making the “best smell on earth.” And shortly, Will’s wife, several nurses, a housekeeper, and Will’s doctor all sat around the bed sharing hot bread, thick butter, and stories of home.

Will’s stomach loved it!

Kathy’s Hollyhocks

There is no artwork in room 6410, but that’s where Kathy has been assigned. She’ll be here for several days, until the tests determine how to treat her cancer.

Her nurse points to a large white board on the wall. I’ll write my name and phone number here,” she says, “so you’ll know how to reach me at any time. But I’ll also write your name, and would like to add something special about you so we’ll know a bit of your story. Let’s start with flowers. What is your favorite flower?”

“That’s easy,” Kathy answers. “In Iowa there was a row of hollyhocks right outside my window. Bright red ones. Those will always be my favorites.”

The nurse wrote “Bright red hollyhocks—like in Iowa,” by Kathy’s name.

“I’ll tell Linda, our artist in residence, that you like hollyhocks!”

An hour later Linda slipped into the room with a beautifully-framed photo of bright pink hollyhocks.

“I couldn’t find any red hollyhocks,” Linda said, “but here are some bright pink ones. I hope they’ll match your memories from the farm. I’ll hang them here while you’re in room 6410.”

Kathy laughed and said, “Pink is just fine. I look up there and I’m home. I can almost smell Mom’s fresh-baked pumpkin pie!”

Sebastian’s Guitar

Each day Sebastian is responsible for the music in 45 rooms on a cardiac care unit. Some of the patients have new hearts. Some have new balloons in their arteries. Others are waiting to see what’s next. Sebastian’s job is to sing health into their lives.

After 30 minutes learning stories from the patient charts, Sebastian walks to the first door, says a prayer, introduces himself, and walks into the room—a “sanctuary of healing.”

He asks a few questions and begins strumming his guitar. Invariably the patient mentions a hymn, and Sebastian begins to sing.

“Most folks ask for 'Amazing Grace,' or 'In the Garden,' or 'Jesus Loves Me,'” he says. “But I’ll play whatever they ask for.”

People heal better, faster, and happier when Sebastian plays his guitar.

Dick Duerksen is assistant vice president for mission development at Florida Hospital.