I am a nurse at a large hospital here in Nashville; I have been a nurse going on for 8 years now (and went to medical school for 4 years before that). I have taken care of a lot of patients; but several have remained firmly entrenched in my memory. I shall never forget them, in particular, this one old man who was in the hospital for terminal prostrate cancer.
Mr. Dyess was a man in his middle 70's when I had first met him; and he was clearly suffering. There was pain in his eyes, and his face often appeared troubled and tense. His wife, Mabel, was not with her husband, for she was in a nursing facility, suffering from the ravages of Alzheimer's disease: she was unable to care for herself, and she didn't know who she was or where she was at; or even what was going on around her. She also didn't know that Charlie, her husband, had taken ill with prostrate cancer and was now dying in a hospital bed.
Charlie had three sons and two daughters, all grown, and he felt sad because they never came to the hospital to visit with their father. They were too busy with their own lives; they were more concerned about their jobs or their own families rather than to spend time with their father. It was a rather sad situation.
But Charlie, as sick as he was, was a man of devout Christian faith, and he was not afraid of dying. He was only concerned about his pain ending, and that he would wake up in the Arms of his Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ; and that his suffering would, at long last, would come to an end. (Remember: I wasn't a Christian at the time I had met Charlie Dyess. I was still steeped in the Catholic religion.)
Charlie was, if I remember, a rather short, skinny man with a halo of white hair encircling his mottled head; and he had the most incredible green eyes I had ever seen on a person. He didn't weigh but 115 pounds soaking wet; he was awfully skinny. He wore gold, wire-rimmed glasses, and he looked like a friendly sort of fellow. At first he had a loud, chortling laugh, but as the cancer spread and took toll on his frail frame, his laughter subsided; but he never lost his joyous outlook on life; and if something was bothering him he would take time to pray about it. He loved the Lord; it was clearly visible as I watched him read his Bible and then pray silently to himself, tears coarsing down his weathered face. He didn't seem to be afraid, and I admired his courage.
"Miss Lou," he said (he always called me "Miss Lou"), "You know I am not afraid of dying. I know my time is about up, but that just gives me less time before I am in the Strong Arms of Jesus.You have been so good to me; an old man such as myself doesn't even deserve such good treatment. You have been like an angel to me, and you have made sure that I am reasonably comfortable. You know, ma'am, the Lord Jesus is watching over you, watching each and every move you make here on Earth; and I bet He loves seeing you doing His work--helping the suffering. He will surely bless you and your kind for your selfless devotion to caring for others."
I didn't say much; I just patted his rough hand and smoothed a loose piece of hair from my face. "I'm just doing my job is all, Mr. D.", I told him. "I want to make sure you are comfortable and aren't in too much discomfort."
"Well, Miss Lou, I AM hurting, but seeing your sweet face just makes me feel better. You have that effect on a poor, tired body, you know," he said. "You have really been so kind, and I appreciate the time and effort you are taking to help me."
"Well, thank you, Mr. D.!" I said, smiling, as I bent over and kissed his cheek. "I just bet you say that to all of my nurses!"
"No. You have been especially sweet, and I really appreciate your gentle touch. Some of those nurses handle me like a piece of raw meat; they just cause me NO END of pain! I am in enough pain for two people; why should they add to my misery??"
"Honey, I don't know, but I'll be sure to have a talk with my nurses. I bet you mean Gloria and NewJean, don't you?"
"The one tall and skinny with frizzy red hair, and the other one small and black with a blondish afro?"
"Yes. The tall one is Gloria, and the other one is NewJean. I'll be sure to give them a talking-to," I replied. "But, in the meantime, you try to get some rest, okay, Mr. D.?"
"Okay, Miss Lou, but until--we (GASP)--meet--again in Heaven (GASP)"---Those were the very last words he ever spoke.
Suddenly, a sound from Mr. Dyess caused me to turn around. He was starting to have trouble breathing; his breathing quickly became labored and gasping as he began to fight for breath. His lungs were starting to fill with fluid, and the monitors above his bed started beeping and blaring as his body began to shut down.
I punched the code-alarm button, and sent the code message over the p.a. system. I quickly inserted the oxygen prongs into Mr. Dyess' nose, and I turned the oxygen unit onto full blast, to try to get oxygen into his lungs as he fought for each and every breath. Soon, Mr. Dyess was surrounded by nurses, who were valiantly trying to save his life.
I then called the nursing home where Mabel, his wife, was at, and I told them about what was going on with Charles Dyess, her husband; and I told them to tell her about her husband.
I then called each one of his children (Charles, Jr., Todd, and Georgie were the sons, and Claire and Clarice were the daughters) and told them that their father was now in trouble and that they had better get to the hospital, quick, before it was too late.
It ended up that Charles Dyess couldn't be saved from impending death. He died despite the nurses' attempts to save his life. For him, death had brought an ebrupt end to his months of incredible pain and suffering. He was now finally at peace; he was now in Heaven with Jesus.
Even though he was only my patient, I began to cry in spite of myself. He had clearly been very ill, but in his suffering, he still aknowledged me and praised my efforts to care for him; and he clearly enjoyed it whenever I came to care for him and his needs. He had a loving heart, and he wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was a Christian and believed in Jesus Christ. Even in illness he continued to pray and worship his Saviour, and he continued to read the Bible (or have me read to him when he was too ill or too sleepy to be able to do so). His devotion to Jesus Christ astounded me; I had never met anyone who had so much faith, even when he was feeling his worst or when things looked hopeless. That man was absolutely amazing; this is probably why I remember him even today (and this was about 5 years ago when this particular episode happened).
I think back on this memory, and I wonder if Charlie Dyess had something to do with my becoming saved OTHER than seeing "Heaven's Gates and Hell's Flames" at Christ Community Assembly of God. He must have been so proud when I had gone down to the altar for prayer and admitting that I was a sinner. He HAD to have had something to do with this, my becoming a Christian.....
So, Charlie Dyess, my friend in Christ, "Until We Meet Again" (but this time in Heaven)....
Timeless wisdom and advice on the art of living for today’s young and old: The art of thinking, the art of loving, the art of working, the art of leadership, the art of growing old.
A new translation by Sergio E. Serrano of this inspirationa
GLIMPSE OF AN ANGEL IS NOW AVAILABLE. A PORTION OF ALL SALES WILL GO TO HOSPICE TO THUS ENABLE THEM TO HELP OTHERS WHO ARE SOON TO PASS TO THE OTHER SIDE. NO LONGER AVAILABLE.
Timeless wisdom and advice on the art of living for today’s young and old: The art of thinking, the art of loving, the art of working, the art of leadership, the art of growing old.
A new translation by Sergio E. Serrano of this inspirationa
