“Mr. X is back again, Doc. What are we doing this time?” the nurse inquired as she passed in the hallway. The soiled and intoxicated Mr. X had seemingly becoming my personal patient, as I’d been unfortunate enough to be on shift for each of his three visits to the ED over the past several days.
The shadowing medical student respectfully asked for my permission to see the patient. “No need, I know this guy,” I replied. “He’s been here numerous times for intoxication this past week so there’s nothing really to do. Paramedics bring him in off the street, and he ends up sleeping it off. You’ll know he’s ready for discharge when he starts cussing everyone out. Sometimes despite your best efforts you realize that some people don’t want your help. Some people are just unwilling to accept any grace.”
As I hurriedly rushed to see my next several patients, I continued to replay the conversation with the med student. Did I actually just say that? My sense of remorse grew as I further realized that despite satisfying my professional obligation, I really hadn’t done anything that would constitute as a genuine effort to promote Mr. X’s wellbeing. I hadn’t even had a real dialogue with him other than to satisfy that he was sober enough to walk out of the ED. A sudden conviction arose that perhaps there was a reason Mr. X and I continued to cross paths.
Praying for a more generous spirit I returned to Mr. X’s room and actually listened while he told his story. He had been the victim of a major accident years prior, it turns out, and had sustained a disabling traumatic injury leaving him in chronic pain. His problems with alcohol and prescription drugs had developed as a result of his attempts to cope with the physical pain and depression associated with his injury and the loss of his physical independence.
I asked if he would like me to pray for him, which he accepted. We discussed rehabilitation programs in the area and discharge advice. In closing, I asked if there was anything else that would be helpful to him. He paused, and then reticently asked, “Can you call my dad?”
I dialed the phone number he provided, expecting to reach a disconnected number or an indifferent party unwilling to help, which is the common response in my experience. “Hello” the voice on the other end of the line answered.
“Hi, I’m an ER doctor taking care of a Mr. X. He asked if I could call this number to—”
“He’s there?” I was abruptly cut off. “Doctor, please don’t let him go we’ve been looking for him. My son’s been missing for a long time. Oh, thank you so much! Please don’t let him go. Let him know I am coming to get him.”
“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate. —Luke 15:17-24 (ESV)
I still reflect on what prevented Mr. X from simply picking up a phone and calling what suggestively appeared to be a loving family in desperate pursuit of him. I also like to imagine that the reunion of Mr. X with his family that day might have represented the opportunity for restoration and a new beginning.
How cherished we are by God. Grace is so much bigger than we could ever imagine, and God is desperately in pursuit of all of His children.
James Kim is the fortunate spouse of Lisa Kim, proud father of four, and grateful member of the LSUC community. He practices emergency medicine in LA County.