My boys are growing older. My eldest is 16 and stands 6 feet tall. He could easily pass for a grown man. My youngest is almost nine and each day I see glimmers of the man he will become.
At night they ask for the same question, “Will you tuck me in?” The nighttime rituals begin. I read them stories. I join them in their prayers. Before the light is extinguished, I unfurl blanket after blanket, tucking the edges close. This is a moment to be cherished. This is release of the day and the embrace of restful sleep. This is a sacred moment and it relies on trust.
When you are an adult, you greet the night alone. No loving parent tucks you in and wards you against the dark and all its terrors. I can think of only a few times in an adult life you will feel billow of a blanket that descends upon you.
In a hospital, they tuck you in. For a moment, you can feel as safe as a child.
Until they question your pain…
Are you drug seeking?
Until they insult your research…
Don’t tell me about what you found on Google.
Until they belittle your experience…
We do not have access to your entire medical record.
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. The hands that tuck you in can make the difference in a life and in a death. In 2015 lets work together, patient and provider, to restore a trust in each other and unite against the darkness.