Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Never underestimate the power of prayer, the force of love, the gift of family and friends...nor conversely the ironic fragility and brevity of the beautiful life we are living.

I found out today that a friend and co-worker of mine had fallen ill. He is not someone that I speak to every day and actually, more recently his career path at my office had made our crossings of paths less frequent. But every time we do speak or hang out, his infectiously snarky, witty and wry nature makes me laugh. As his house is within a stone’s throw of my own, we kept making verbal promises to get together...to have cocktails and chat...and to let our mutually spoiled, over-indulged four legged fur children have a play date. Every time I thumb through my contacts on my phone and see his name, I think ‘I have to remember to call him!’ and smile with the promise.

His illness is as severe as it was sudden. A bacterial infection has compromised his heart, started laying claim to his organs and is threatening his life.

Upon hearing the news this morning, I set out with another co-worker and headed to the hospital. I had spoken to yet another friend and co-worker (shouldn’t we coin a term for these seminally important people in our lives? However, both Froworker and Criend sound too trite) who was already there and had been there for awhile. Although she had warned me not only about my ill friend’s appearance if I should see him, but also about the size of the gathering crowd, I was still shocked when I arrived - to witness the number of people that had gathered in the waiting room.

Titles, seniority and management levels were washed away with tears and brushed aside with tissues. People - family really - huddled in groups and milled about, murmuring words of comfort, whispering updates, prompting positive stories and updates.

I was heartened to hear while I was there, while waiting to be able to see him, that the physicians had identified the particular insidious bacteria that was invading my friend’s body had been identified and that they were going to war with specific ammunition aimed straight at it.

Also, permission had been granted that my friend’s fur child, who is his heart on four legs, would be able to come into his room for awhile. I know how deep my friend’s bond is to this animal and smiled outwardly and cheered inwardly when he was carried through the waiting room into the MICU room where his Papa was laying and fighting.

Indeed, when I was finally able to see my ill friend, amidst a tangle of tubes and importantly beeping machines, his fur baby was by his side on a table...quiet and still and intent, watching over his Papa.

My time with my friend was brief - I just wanted him to know that I was there, that I was still planning our puppy play date, that I fully expected his quick and expedient recovery and that I loved him. Despite the environment and the probing feeding tube, my brave friend was able to reciprocate the sentiment.

Though my visit was heart-breaking and the situation was tenuous, I left the hospital today with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, pride and community.

I have always known that I work for a great company. Since shortly after I started, it was always my goal to continue with this company until retirement. My company has consistently demonstrated generosity and equanimity even in economic times of strife. I have even often joked that if you were to slit me open, my blood would pour out in the various colors of our multiple brands.

And today, one of the values that our company heralds as one of it’s core - people - was abundantly apparent as we circled our wagons around one of our own. Family, irrespective of it’s origins, is a lovely and mighty force.