My dad was in the car, talking. I was driving him to the imaging center for an MRI. I should have been listening because these days, he didn’t talk very much. But I had other things on my mind.
He said “The doctor said it might be a tumor in my head.” He was quiet, and I was listening now.
Was he scared – this giant of a man to me, who I ran to as a child when I got scared at night?
She greeted us in the waiting room, came back to get us. My dad needed help changing so I came with him. Afterward, we were walking to the room where the MRI would be taken, she said something to my dad I couldn’t hear – he laughed! I hadn’t heard him laugh in a while.
We got close but I had to stop. They kept walking together into the room, my dad talking, still laughing with her. But then he stopped, looked. She gently took his hand. I saw her help him lie down, talking with him the whole time, explaining everything. A few more laughs from both of them.
25 minutes later she brought him back to me. He changed, we left and I drove him home. He said “She was nice.”
I don’t remember much else from that day but I do remember that rad tech – how she made him feel, how she took care of him. And how that felt to me, after hearing that scary thing my dad had just told me in the car. She made all the difference that day, that rad tech.
My dad’s tumor was benign and in fact he still has it in his head (he’s too old to risk the operation). But I just saw my dad the other day – and he mentioned her again!
Thank you to all the rad techs out there – for doing so well the *care* part of the critical healthcare you do!
