A Simple Act of Love

(The following article first appeared in The Epistle, the newsletter of St. James Episcopal Church in Hendersonville, North Carolina.)

ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, attacks the nerves that lead to the voluntary muscles. When the nerves die, the muscles atrophy and become useless. The sense of touch is unaffected. I can feel a kiss on my cheek but I cannot raise my arms to hug or shake a hand.

The disease has chipped away at my body since I was diagnosed in February 2007. I enjoyed being six foot three inches tall and able to hike and kayak. When I started using a walker, my sense of physicality began to erode. This erosion continued through successive stages of using a wheelchair, a scooter, and now a power wheelchair which someone else has to move for me. The most recent blow to my appearance and sense of self is that I have started to drool. When I was looking for a nursing home to move into, I turned one down because there were "too many droolers in the hallway." It is an ironic lesson to me about my judgment that I have become a "drooler" myself. I hate it.

I take an anti-secretion pill before I come to worship at St. James. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Several weeks ago I was alone and started coughing during worship. I was choking on my saliva. When I got my coughing under control, I had drooled on my chin and shirt.

As I was sitting there with a wet chin and shirt and wondering what to do, a woman came to me and asked if I was alright. When she saw my plight, she got some tissues and wiped the spittle off my chin and shirt. She was not embarrassed and since she wasn't, neither was I. As she was doing it, she said, "We love you, Tom." Then she stood alongside me for a moment, not staring at me because that would have been awkward, but stood watching the worship. She was making sure I was okay before she left. I was okay and filled with gratitude. She checked on me again a few minutes later.

A lot of wonderful (full of wonder) things happen at St. James Episcopal Church during worship on a Sunday morning. We rise to worship and sing praises to God. We hear several readings of scripture and hear a message of application and inspiration. We pray together and pass the peace. We confess our sins and receive forgiveness. We eat and experience the glories of the Eucharist. Finally, we are sent into the world to serve our Lord. If you stop and think about what we do on a Sunday morning--communicate intimately with the Creator of the universe--it is spectacular.

Also spectacular was the simple act of love the woman, my friend, gave to me when she wiped the saliva off my chin. Many of you give me similar simple acts of love. These deeds of lived faith lift me up far beyond six foot three inches. I think that is full of wonder, too.

Happy April Fools' Day Nursing Home Humor

(This article first appeared in the Asheville, North Carolina Citizen-Times newspaper on 1 April 2012 and is used here by permission.)

Few people would consider a nursing home a hotbed of hilarity, but humor can happen. Here below is what happens when you have happy happenstance. Hooray.

My hands and arms are mostly useless due to ALS, so when I need the urinal, I call for help. As soon as I feel like I need to go, I press a button with my head that rings a bell in the hallway outside my room. I have noticed that when I hear the bell, suddenly I REALLY NEED TO GO! I have decided that I must have Pavlov's bladder.

An older gentleman was walking down the hallway one day with the zipper of his pants wide open. A nurse noticed and told him about it. He said, "Honey, when the horse can't get out of the barn, there is no reason to worry about leaving the barn door open."

A CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) was brushing my teeth and said to me, "I have worked here for three months and this is the first time I have brushed teeth inside someone's mouth."

CNA students from Blue Ridge Community College get hands-on experience by helping with patient care in my nursing home. Several have shaved my face, although "shave" is not the right word. They are so gentle they barely wipe the shaving cream off my face. I assumed that they were worried about cutting me with the razor but I was wrong. Prior to coming to shave me they had practiced shaving a balloon. They were not worried about cutting me. They were afraid I was going to pop!



I live across the street from a llama farm.



I get my nutrition through a feeding tube into my stomach. A pump regulates the flow rate, usually 125 cc per hour, and the number is displayed on front of the pump. One day I was behind on the amount so the nurse doubled the flow rate to 250 cc per hour. A CNA came into my room, saw the increased rate, and said, "Oh, you are getting fast food."

One of my CNAs is absolutely convinced that I will be cured of ALS. She prays for this every day. Although she hopes for a miraculous healing, she realizes the cure may come through medical science. Referring to the story of Balaam in the Hebrew Scriptures, she said, "If God can use a donkey, He can use a doctor."

The funniest thing that has happened during my tenure in my nursing home occurred during the first Christmas season I was here. A CNA came to give me a bad bath. She was singing Christmas carols as she worked. At the same instant that she rolled me on my side to wash my bottom, she sang, "Do you see what I see?" I burst out laughing. She went through incomprehension to shock at realizing what she had done to embarrassment to finally, laughter, when she saw I was not upset. We laughed together for at least five minutes. It was a great Christmas gift.

Who knew a nursing home could be such a funny place!?