O
Orleans_Attny
Guest
I’ll try and be brief.
My body tried to kill me on Sunday. I have a massive blood clot in my aorta, and I have pulmonary embolisms in both lungs. The doctor described it as a “life terminating event.” When I was in the ER a doctor whispered in my ear that he needed to know my wishes for WHEN I Code. Did I want a respirator? Chest Compressions? Or did I just want the doctors to make me comfortable? He said I had to tell him now, because in a few minutes I wouldn’t be able to tell him.
I asked for a Priest. Specifically (since I’m a Navy Officer) a Catholic Chaplain.
In largest Navy Hospital on the East Coast, in the largest Fleet Concentration Area on the Eastern Seaboard, guess how many Catholic Priest they have . . . .
Zero.
Guess how many contract priests they have . . .
Zero.
Guess how many Memorandums of Agreement they have with the diocese or local parishes to provide emergency services . . . . .
Zero.
So they sent me a nice Baptist minister, but that’s not what I needed. The next day the sent me a less nice minister (some variety of protestant) who not only didn’t help, but was exasperated that I was outraged that a dying sailor couldn’t get a Priest in a Naval Hospital in Norfolk. Neither of these gentlemen put in a reasonable effort to find me a priest.
Thankfully, I beat the odds (doctor’s words, not mine). But please pray for all those other sailors and marines and military dependents who find themselves in need. The car accidents. The shaken babies. The heart attacks. The blood clots. The cancer patients. The epileptics. And all the others.
Please pray that they can find a way to get their last sacraments when they need them. Because apparently it’s the responsibility of the dying person to get a priest to the ER or ICU to perform that greatest of all kindnesses.
Pax,
OA
My body tried to kill me on Sunday. I have a massive blood clot in my aorta, and I have pulmonary embolisms in both lungs. The doctor described it as a “life terminating event.” When I was in the ER a doctor whispered in my ear that he needed to know my wishes for WHEN I Code. Did I want a respirator? Chest Compressions? Or did I just want the doctors to make me comfortable? He said I had to tell him now, because in a few minutes I wouldn’t be able to tell him.
I asked for a Priest. Specifically (since I’m a Navy Officer) a Catholic Chaplain.
In largest Navy Hospital on the East Coast, in the largest Fleet Concentration Area on the Eastern Seaboard, guess how many Catholic Priest they have . . . .
Zero.
Guess how many contract priests they have . . .
Zero.
Guess how many Memorandums of Agreement they have with the diocese or local parishes to provide emergency services . . . . .
Zero.
So they sent me a nice Baptist minister, but that’s not what I needed. The next day the sent me a less nice minister (some variety of protestant) who not only didn’t help, but was exasperated that I was outraged that a dying sailor couldn’t get a Priest in a Naval Hospital in Norfolk. Neither of these gentlemen put in a reasonable effort to find me a priest.
Thankfully, I beat the odds (doctor’s words, not mine). But please pray for all those other sailors and marines and military dependents who find themselves in need. The car accidents. The shaken babies. The heart attacks. The blood clots. The cancer patients. The epileptics. And all the others.
Please pray that they can find a way to get their last sacraments when they need them. Because apparently it’s the responsibility of the dying person to get a priest to the ER or ICU to perform that greatest of all kindnesses.
Pax,
OA
