A reminder to slow down...his name was Mike

Yesterday when I was completing some errands with all of my boys, I was waiting in the hospital pharmacy for our turn to pick up my son's medicine. The boys were behaving pretty well, but I was starting to feel overwhelmed with all the "please don't touch," "get back over here," "don't hit your brother,""don't point and stare," and "stay with me!" Judging by the crowd, it was going to be a long wait. So I decided to take the boys outside on the "thrive walk" through a nicely landscaped area. Enjoying the greenery, my stress level lowered and I felt like extending our walk across the street to the main building of the hospital. I had a question to ask and thought I could find the right department and the answer and get back in time to retrieve our prescription and make our remaining appointments. Remember, I still had all the boys with me so safely crossing the street and finding a new department in the maze of the hospital would be no small task. 

However, as we approached the hospital entrance I caught a glimpse of a man leaning into the parking lot elevators. People were passing all around him not noticing him at all, but something made me stop my little train of boys and watch him for a minute. I soon realized he was suffering. His back was to me, but I could see it rise and fall heavily like he was gasping for air but none was coming. I told the boys to stay put and walked over to him and asked if he was okay. He didn't answer right away, and I was nervous that he might be offended. I waited and asked again if I could help him. He wearily looked at me and said he might like to sit down. I turned and yelled at the boys to bring us a wheel chair that was parked outside the hospital entrance. They sprinted to get it and I could tell they were a bit excited to help. 

Once we got the man seated I asked if he was going into the hospital or leaving. Still laboring for every breath and each word, he said he had an appointment in the pulmonary department. Holding my baby in one arm and helping my eight year old push the chair with the other we headed for the entrance. He added that his appointment was on the second floor, but just to leave him and he could make it. I rubbed his shoulder a little and assured him we were in no hurry and would see to it that he got where he needed to go. 

I asked his name, and he quietly managed just Mike. He was a large man, not easily maneuvered in a chair, so with some trouble we got him into the elevator. We discovered that the second floor was pretty empty and NOT where the pulmonary department was. I saw someone with a name tag and scrubs and asked for help finding the pulmonary offices. She was very helpful, but told Mike that he needed to go to the emergency. He insisted he had an appointment in 10 minutes, but she said they would send him there too. She offered to push him from there so I could get back to attending my boys. She was shocked to find out that I didn't know this man and that I stopped to help him even though I had the four little boys in tow. He was grateful and they were soon on their way to the ER.

My four year old had been complaining about being hungry and having to go to the bathroom, so we stopped off at the cafeteria before going on to the ER to make sure Mike was being looked after. We never were able to find him again, but I used this as a teaching moment for my sons. 

I told them to never be too busy to notice some one else's suffering or too shy to offer help. They could always say no, but I told them how Mike may not have ever made it to the front door. People had been passing right by him in the parking structure and not stopping. Who knows, he may have made it all the way to the second floor and then been too confused and out of breath to determine where to go from there. He could have died right there, feeling all alone in a sea of people rushing around him and not able to speak loud enough to call for help.

We all felt really good having helped him and I reminded the boys of the time last month when we followed a smoking car off the freeway ramp and daddy got out and helped push the old lady's car safely to the side of the road. We were in a hurry then too to go to a cub scout derby, but seeing how distressed the woman was, we called a tow truck and waited with her along side the busy road until a it arrived to help her. She was in tears and gave us all a hug when the truck arrived and she knew she would be safely home soon.

The good feelings you get from helping others, truly is The Happiness so many are seeking.  I hope the boys never forget these life lessons. Never, never be too busy or apathetic to slow down and help a brother or a sister in need. I think they will at least remember the good feelings they got from doing just that yesterday. And in sharing our experience, I hope you will remember the lesson too.