Clinical Pastoral Education
I completed a unit of CPE this past Summer. It was about as hands-on as I could ever hope to experience. I was told that I would see a lot of things that would make me uncomfortable in the 300 clinical hours I would need to complete at Porter Hospital. I was responsible for floors 4E, which was cardiac patients, and 5E, which was the general hospital. I also went to every code (blue, green, etc.) while I was on call, and to see any other patient in need of a visit.
While it isn't really possible to summarize the experience in a single blog post, I want to highlight a few things:
-Many of the most memorable patients were VERY different from me. I saw many gay and lesbian individuals. I ministered to them as best I could. We talked about values, passions, what fulfilled them and gave them purpose. I held their hands. I prayed for them when they asked me to. I was there for them, not for myself, for an agenda. I cared deeply for them. These experiences were memorable and important.
-My favorite patients, but far, were African American. They were always willing to talk to me. They opened up about more than just their reason for being in the hospital. I was welcomed, on several occasions, to join with a circle of family and friends around the patient. I was brought into the fold. I thought that I was going into the room to welcome and bless them. They turned the tables on me. Unlike many caucasian patients, they opened up to me. Every. Time.
-There was one patient that I saw every single week at the hospital. He had lost both legs in a motorcycle accident. The first week that I visited with him, he was experiencing hallucinogenic effects from the medical he was on for the pain. He was violent and angry with me. He wanted communion and I was faithful to his request. I brought him communion every week. He hated me at first. He missed the chaplain that had previously seen him. I cried over him more than anyone. He had so many hard weeks. He finally started to appreciate my dedication and care about half-way through my time there. He prayed for me. He prayed about my relationship with my father. He apologized. I look forward to visits with him on the other side of Heaven.
-I loved to present myself as "other." I did not work for Porter. I was a 3rd party and I used it to my advantage whenever possible. One woman was particularly furious with the nursing staff (although, this type of experience was fairly common). She yelled at her nurses for 15+ minutes before I entered the room. She had been threatening to leave against medical advice. She was violently angry. I walked into the room, more than a little afraid. I presented myself as Nate, her chaplain, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do for her. She almost immediately started bawling. She was so grateful that I would be there for her (her nurses were obviously there "for her" as well, but in her eyes they were a part of the institution). I was her chaplain. I prayed over her. I calmed her. I heard her. I often presented myself this way. I think that as Christians we have the incredible ability to be "other." We don't have to take sides, we can be "for" people. I want to be known as a man who is "for" people, rather than against things, ideas, causes, and people.
-I worked with other chaplains who were universalist. They had all been jaded by church, pastors, and the deaths they experienced every day. They didn't believe in hell or eternal punishment. Their theology was left somewhere a long time ago. Pastors were "blockheads", proselytizers, and fools. They were useless. Chaplains did really ministry, pastors were doing child's play. It was like Corinth in there. I didn't ask them to convert every patient. But how can you possibly embody theology if you don't even feel the weight of the patient's need for salvation. I felt that wight. Every. Single. Day. I learned a lot from them. Manner, approach, technique. I was also saddened by their loneliness, and the futility of their theology.
-I held the hands of dying people. I held the hands of people who were losing loved ones. Sometimes I prayed, sometimes I didn't. I loved those people. I cried with them.
-I would recommend it to anyone who is serious about ministry. Learn how to care for people. We don't deal mainly with reasonable and logical people, but with hurting, pained, bleeding, and hopeless individuals. I was shocked as, again and again, within minutes of walking into a patient's room, the patient would cry openly with me. I am a chaplain. I am a pastor. I am a friend.
While it isn't really possible to summarize the experience in a single blog post, I want to highlight a few things:
-Many of the most memorable patients were VERY different from me. I saw many gay and lesbian individuals. I ministered to them as best I could. We talked about values, passions, what fulfilled them and gave them purpose. I held their hands. I prayed for them when they asked me to. I was there for them, not for myself, for an agenda. I cared deeply for them. These experiences were memorable and important.
-My favorite patients, but far, were African American. They were always willing to talk to me. They opened up about more than just their reason for being in the hospital. I was welcomed, on several occasions, to join with a circle of family and friends around the patient. I was brought into the fold. I thought that I was going into the room to welcome and bless them. They turned the tables on me. Unlike many caucasian patients, they opened up to me. Every. Time.
-There was one patient that I saw every single week at the hospital. He had lost both legs in a motorcycle accident. The first week that I visited with him, he was experiencing hallucinogenic effects from the medical he was on for the pain. He was violent and angry with me. He wanted communion and I was faithful to his request. I brought him communion every week. He hated me at first. He missed the chaplain that had previously seen him. I cried over him more than anyone. He had so many hard weeks. He finally started to appreciate my dedication and care about half-way through my time there. He prayed for me. He prayed about my relationship with my father. He apologized. I look forward to visits with him on the other side of Heaven.
-I loved to present myself as "other." I did not work for Porter. I was a 3rd party and I used it to my advantage whenever possible. One woman was particularly furious with the nursing staff (although, this type of experience was fairly common). She yelled at her nurses for 15+ minutes before I entered the room. She had been threatening to leave against medical advice. She was violently angry. I walked into the room, more than a little afraid. I presented myself as Nate, her chaplain, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do for her. She almost immediately started bawling. She was so grateful that I would be there for her (her nurses were obviously there "for her" as well, but in her eyes they were a part of the institution). I was her chaplain. I prayed over her. I calmed her. I heard her. I often presented myself this way. I think that as Christians we have the incredible ability to be "other." We don't have to take sides, we can be "for" people. I want to be known as a man who is "for" people, rather than against things, ideas, causes, and people.
-I worked with other chaplains who were universalist. They had all been jaded by church, pastors, and the deaths they experienced every day. They didn't believe in hell or eternal punishment. Their theology was left somewhere a long time ago. Pastors were "blockheads", proselytizers, and fools. They were useless. Chaplains did really ministry, pastors were doing child's play. It was like Corinth in there. I didn't ask them to convert every patient. But how can you possibly embody theology if you don't even feel the weight of the patient's need for salvation. I felt that wight. Every. Single. Day. I learned a lot from them. Manner, approach, technique. I was also saddened by their loneliness, and the futility of their theology.
-I held the hands of dying people. I held the hands of people who were losing loved ones. Sometimes I prayed, sometimes I didn't. I loved those people. I cried with them.
-I would recommend it to anyone who is serious about ministry. Learn how to care for people. We don't deal mainly with reasonable and logical people, but with hurting, pained, bleeding, and hopeless individuals. I was shocked as, again and again, within minutes of walking into a patient's room, the patient would cry openly with me. I am a chaplain. I am a pastor. I am a friend.
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