What's Making an ICU Visit Like for a Lay Chaplain? Part 1

As a lay chaplain, I've gotten to make a lot of ICU visits. At MD Anderson where I provide pastoral care for Lifeline Chaplaincy, a whole floor is devoted to ICU, with some of the units focused on treating patients needing intensive care because of surgical causes, and other units focused on other medical crises.

You always know that ICU is a serious place. People are there because their lives depend on receiving specialized, life stabilizing, intensive medical care. There are all kinds of machines in the rooms, lines and tubes running everywhere, monitors with flashing lights, and sometimes breathing support devices and even more. Sometimes the patient is in isolation because of infection, and gowns, masks, and gloves have to be worn by everyone entering the room. And of course, hand sanitization is standard before and after leaving the room.

Sometimes the ICU room is almost erily calm, while other times it is a hive of activity with medical staff performing procedures or doing assessments. Sometimes a family member is present (many spend the night in the room with their spouse/relative who is the patient at MDA), sometimes a family member is in the waiting room and the patient is alone in ICU, and sometimes there's no family member at all.

The patient may be feeling pretty good, be anxious to talk, and be on the upswing. Or the patient may be comatose and/or on life support, unable to communicate. Or the patient may be at any of the variations in between these two conditions. Their prognosis may be optimistic, some variation of guarded, or nearing death.

The family providing support is generally exhausted, stressed, anxious, but coping. Some days are better for the family than others, depending on the course of what's happened and what's expected to happen.

When I first started making visits, I have to admit, heading into the ICU was intimidating. Part of it was because I knew the person I was to visit was seriously ill. Part of it was because it was entering an alien space. And part of it was recognizing that the patient and perhaps family I was to visit were in the midst of a crisis, and that although I'd had good training, knowing how to best respond to their needs was still a mystery.

As with most endeavors, experience is a great teacher. I'm much more comfortable and confident these days as I step off the elevator onto the seventh floor. I know that I'm just there as a person to be used by God to minister to others, and that He always steps up to make that enough. And I know how important it is to patients and family to have someone just walk in the door and say, "I came by just to check on you today."

(More to come)

Posted by email from Alright! (posterous)