01/13/2025
Homeless guy. Single mom. Burn survivor. Wealthy person. Immigrant.
Regardless the intent, our quick judgements and descriptors for others always fall short of fully describing another human being. Several weeks ago, during an overnight shift at a hospital, I witnessed the downside of labels. And yet, minutes later, I saw the healing power that comes when we more fully embrace the humanity of the person in front of us. Let me explain.
Seated next to my dad during yet another hospitalization, I went out to the nurse station to inquire about more medicine. Dad was writhing in pain, shifting awkwardly in his bed with dyskinesia, cognitively confused and unable to verbalize any of his struggle. And so, I went out to hallway, found someone charting, explained the situation and asked if she could track down our nurse. She nodded without really looking up from her work, called into the break room, and shared that, “The old guy in room 606 needs more medicine.”
“The old guy in room 606” has battled a progressive neurological disease called Parkinson’s disease with profound courage for more than three decades. He has never complained as the disease robbed him of his ability to work, earn, drive, ambulate, or speak. He has never complained about the constant, chronic pain he experiences as the result of dozens of falls and broken bones. He has never complained about the struggle his life is.
“The old guy in room 606” celebrated his 80th birthday earlier in the year. He was surrounded by his six children who still idolize him. Seated closest to him that evening was his bride. He loves her more today than he did at any other point in their marriage. He’s grateful in a world that often cheapens the value of his life, that his girlfriend of more than six decades just keeps scooting closer and closer to him.
“The old guy in room 606” coached his daughters in basketball, helped his boys in Scouting, served up at church and was kind to everyone. He never missed a day of grade school, high school, college or law school, and became successful professionally, but never at the expense of missing anything important for his family. He is compassionate, sweet, funny, faithful and brilliant. Even in the oversized hospital bed that engulfed the patient writhing in it, I could see so clearly who this great man actually is.
A little later, the night nurse came in, and introduced herself to Dad who looked helplessly back at her. She brushed his bangs with her fingers, and shared with him, “Denny, I know you are in pain and I’m going to give some medicine to help. You are about to feel better.”
She injected medicine into his IV, looked him in the eyes, and shared that she was sorry he’s struggling, but that everyone there was working to get him feeling better and back to his home.
Shortly after she left, Dad’s pained moments slowed, his eyes closed, and he finally was able to get some peaceful rest.
Best Dad. Loving husband. Tough patient. Parkinson’s fighter. Faithful servant. Dear friend. Good man.
Over a lifetime of loving others, Denny O’Leary has rightly earned many titles. And he’s certainly far more than a room number in a hospital or an adjective describing his age.
My friends, in a world full of quick judgements, increasing tribalism and lessening compassion, strive to see more than the obvious story of others. Seek the far more intricate, nuanced and important story behind the surface. The little bit of compassion to better understand their circumstances will not only change how you see the person in front of you, but it will profoundly shape how you treat them.
And we need that kind of humanity today more than ever.
This is your day. Live Inspired.