There is a young man employed by the hospital in which I work who appears have a condition that most refer to as “Down’s syndrome". This man is a delightful chap whose sole job is (as far as I am aware) to fill the Purell dispensers. In a hospital of approximately 250 beds this is no small chore. The way that this works for him is diagrams of where the dispensers are located. He can often be found in the hallways with his little cart looking at his diagrams and locating every dispenser in the area. All in all, he is quite good at what he does as long as the dispensers are on the diagrams.

     One of the delightful traits of most people with Down’s syndrome is that they tend to be jovial and get great amusement out of the smallest things. When I started working in the neonatal intensive care unit I noticed that the young man would sometimes peek into the glass doors to get a better look at our tiny patients. While I was at work the other day standing by my patient’s room and stringing IV tubing the young man walked by the room to check the dispenser. He carefully added Purell and then peeked his head into the slightly open door. His entire face lit up in awe and fascination at the four pound bundle in the crib. Unable to contain himself he clapped his hands together and exclaimed:

“Baby!”

   He flashed me a sheepish grin before continuing on his way. This little moment made my day.

     A week ago marked my one year anniversary in my current job position in a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). The job was a longtime goal of mine and actually having it in my grasp seemed so improbable and wonderful at the same time. I spent the first few months immersed in the world of critical care. The unit seemed big and the nurses grouchy and all the information impossible to comprehend. The acronyms and medical mumbo jumbo rolled off the tongues of the staff much faster than I could ever understand them. I spent most of my time asking ceaseless questions: where do I find this item? why are we doing that? what does this machine do and why? what is that drug for? what does that mean? we are going to do what at the bedside?

      One year later I am still often overwhelmed with the amount of responsibility and activity that occurs within the walls of our little unit. The nurses are a bit more friendly and the words and procedures more familiar, but the job is not all it is cracked up to be. While I truly enjoy the position it does not hold the attraction and draw that it once did. I love the constant learning and being frequently presented to new and different cases, but I find that even in this there is not satisfaction.

“Indeed, I count everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him….” Philippians 3:8 ESV

“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?” Ecclesiastes 2:24