How to help when someone is in the hospital (part two, in essence)

With Ann’s recent hospitalization we witnessed grace in action, through the many steps others took to be there for Ann and our family.

Since there’s a ‘naming and shaming’ aspect to this culture, it’s only appropriate that I do a little  ‘naming and faming’ here. 

Here’s how you can help when someone is in the hospital (as shown by example for us this past week):

Show up in the morning with trail mix and snacks, toothbrush and toothpaste, with your sassy self persona turned on. Then do it again later for good effect. (Laura Walter, you minx. Ann survived the hospital food because of you.) 

Rush to the hospital the moment you hear the news, whip your hair band off and tie her hair back while you do your best to hold her up through the vomiting. (Yes you, Sue Bee Doo  the heroic Sue Brown-Gordon.) Then make her laugh laugh laugh. That’s hard to do after a heave ho, but not for you, you delightful one, not for you. 

Host the affected family’s child for a 24-hour play date on the weekend so the husband [me] can run the business between shuttling back and forth for hospital visits. (You two, the ever there Marc and Roseann Cherenson.) 

Pick right up where the magnificent Cherenson’s left off, and get that boy out on another play date pronto! (You slice of thoughtfulness, Susan McCluskey.)  

Show up as quickly as you can with your toddler in tow, bringing the most essential item for a hospital stay EVER: Antibacterial cleansing wipes. And mouthwash too. (You, fab Kelly Luchini, you who know the drill because you’ve been to too many hospitals in your life.)  

Call from out of state and lead her through a rollicking over-the-phone healing session. (Carolyn Cohen, you master healer, you gush the life force.)  

Call from across the state and lead her through solid old-fashioned Bible verses proclaiming her victory over affliction! (MomJo! We love you!) 

Invite the exhausted and addled husband [again, me] over for a nourishing meal  with energetic son in tow straight from play-date heaven. (If I were gay and 19th-century Mormon at the same time, you would be my sister husband Russell Kopit.)  

(Read part one here about Heidi, Russell’s wife: How to visit someone in the hospital.) 

Stop by with the finest casserole a man and his boy could ever hope for  comfort food beyond comforting. (My favorite T-chele: Michele Trzuskowski.) ( . . . . Sound it out.) (If you dare.) 

Call and email and connect with well wishes and prayers and offers to do whatever you can whenever needed. (You, my sweet sis, who called Ann often and raised her spirits every time. And you, my brother and sister-in-law, who connected daily and who’s family was ready to put their lives on halt so they could come help out at a moment’s notice  you raised my spirits every time. And you and you and you and you and you . . . and so many other yous . . . . you amazing phalanx of people who thankfully I didn’t need to call on because she got better! This included some of you, compassionate readers.) 

(With affection and appreciation to each and every one of you.)

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