When you think of a hospital chaplain, what comes to mind? A bearer of bad news? An imminent turn for the worse? A symbol of death and dying? That’s what I used to think. Chaplains showed up in end-of-life situations, and I’d give anything to never encounter one.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Last week, I had the privilege of listening to a chaplain at my local children’s hospital as he …
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It was October 2013, and her name was Diane. There she sat in the basement of our local children’s hospital – drenched in a fluorescent glow and clutching a stale submarine sandwich. Her hair was cut into the pointiest of pixies, and her scarf had found that magical balance between perfectly styled and casually draped.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. To me, she was a Godsend.
Diane was the first …
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On August 12, 2013, my five-week-old daughter was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. I distinctly recall the feeling of “Everything has changed.” I had worked in the field of chronic disease for almost a decade. And yet, it had never occurred to me that this would happen. Other people’s kids might be sick, but not mine. Not my baby.
I remember our first day in the cystic fibrosis clinic like it was …
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