Keisha’s Kairos Moment

Keisha’s Kairos Moment
By Gary M. Votour, MHCA
A kairos moment in health care… can you name one from your life?
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The ancient Greeks had two words for what we call time. One was chronos, which referred to the linear progression of time itself. Chronos is the one day follows another method we measure the passage of time with, as in “yesterday, today and tomorrow”. Whenever we measure time in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years, decades or centuries, we are speaking of chronos time, or as we more commonly call it chronological time.
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The Greeks also had another word used to define time, kairos. This unique word is lost in our language, but its meaning is still with us. Kairos refers to specific moment (or moments) of time where we make a decision based on possibilities presented to us in that very moment. What makes these moments in time different than chronos time is their potential. A kairos moment has the potential to change the future based on the decision the person experiencing the moment makes. Obviously, in some ways life is filled with reflexive kairos-like moments. We couldn’t walk down the stairs without falling down them if we didn’t decide to move our feet forward and down with each step. Kairos moments are somehow different, moments where we make decisions we should not make casually or based on reflex.
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kairosA kairos moment can be the second when a  someone decides to say “I do” to a marriage proposal, or it can be the moment you and your spouse decide you want to have children. It can even be the moment you decide to give a homeless person the extra ten dollars you found in your wallet this week. A true kairos moment is when God gives us a unique opportunity to make a mindful decision to make a difference in our own or someone else’s life. A kairos moment in health care is no different, for both patients and providers alike.

Putting aside his own feeling that he has failed to save a life, a doctor decides to advise a terminally ill patient that the treatment they are seeking may prolong their life but will likely have an adverse impact on the quality of the time they have left. He recommends they consider hospice instead of treatment. A nurse chooses to speak up on behalf of a patient in her care regarding the ethics of a doctor, knowing that although it will likely improve her patient’s outcome she will probably have to face repercussions from the respect she is given professionally by that doctor and her own peers in the future. A therapist decides to visit a discharged patient at their home to give them moral support in their recovery, knowing that it is against her employer’s policy to do so and risks punitive action from her employer by doing so.

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These are all examples of kairos moments in health care, where health care providers make a decision when they feel God has given them the opportunity to make a decision that shapes lives, a chance to express their compassion and love for the people they care for, regardless of the personal consequences. I have personally witnessed examples of all of these decisions, and can testify to the power they had to make a difference in the lives of others.
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KairosPSD
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It is not just providers that are given these opportunities to make life altering choices. Patients, family members and friends get these wonderfully unique opportunities given to them when someone they or someone they love is recovering from an illness or injury or even dying from a terminal disease. Visiting in the hospital, offering a meal, offering  companionship and even consciously praying for someone all have the potential to be kairos moments. Sometimes it goes even deeper, and we find ourselves challenged by God to make the right ethical or moral choice.
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In 2006, I was living in the ICU of a major surgical hospital in Boston. My wife, Lyn, was struggling to survive a surgical stroke. We were in that ICU together for weeks on end, and I met other family members who were struggling as well.  At my worst one day, when I was filled with self pity and feeling hopeless that we could possibly survive the ordeal, I met a young woman I will call Keisha and her parents. I’ll never forget them. Once I tell you about them, I doubt you will either.
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Keisha was 17. I met her parents in the waiting rooms one day, and they let me visit her whenever I wanted. She was an awesome young lady that I will never forget. She had been having tumors in her brain sue to a rare form of cancer all of her life. Over a dozen surgeries over a ten year period removing tumors had been performed successfully. She was back this time because after a two year remission, her latest scans showed three new ones. Keisha and her parents had decided to tempt fate one last time.
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I first met her a week before her last surgery, so I did not get to know her very well. But I will never forget the first time we met. She was sitting in her bed, her scarred head shaved and prepped. Just sitting looking out the window.  I told her about Lyn, who was three ‘rooms’ away. I asked her if she’d like some company, and she said, “Sure. Pull up a chair”. I asked her what we were looking at. It was snowing outside and we were up on the 12th floor, so all you really could see was the snow swirling around outside the window.  She told me, “Outside.. we’re just watching outside. I need to know it’s still there waiting for me.”
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I sat there, quietly looking outside with her for an hour or so. We didn’t say much. Then she started to cry. I reached over and held her hand, and she said “My parents love me so much… but to be honest with you… I hope I don’t make it through this again. I hate watching them suffer along with me.”
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It was an epiphany for me. My eyes opened through all the pain I felt and saw how hard it must be for anyone to actually be so accepting of their own death. To be so selfless and loving that the only reason a fighter – a survivor like her- the only reason she would give up would be her love of others.
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Palliative-CareI remember holding her hand for hours over the next few days, rather it was her holding mine. I would quietly disappear back to Lyn’s side when her parents were around. After they would visit the three of us would get a bite to eat. They told me stories of their daughter growing up, how strong she was, and how they knew she would survive this and that eventually she would be OK, and I knew Keisha was right. She couldn’t live up to their expectations any longer.

I said goodbye to Keisha after her parents left in preop before her last surgery. We held hands as the meds started to kick in. As she fell asleep, she looked at me and said, “Would you tell them I am sorry?” I promised I would.

She did not survive the surgery. She passed on in recovery. I was with her parents when it happened. I sat and cried with her parents, wondering how I could possibly tell them what she had asked. I knew I would probably never see them again after that day.  Then her mother said “She was always struggling and trying so hard… I knew she did this for us. We should have never asked this of her again.” Through my own tears, I looked at her and said “She wanted you to know she was sorry… she asked me to tell you.” Her dad said, “We know. We were both outside when she told you. It was the last thing she said…”

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Keisha and her parents had created one of the most notable kairos moments in my life. I learned that day that the things we promise to do for those who are dying are not as hard as they may seem. It is an honor and a privilege to help someone at the moment of their passing.  I am honored to have known Keisha. My memory of her and her softly spoken words helped me get through what came in the next few years.
I hope it helps you someday.
Keisha would like that.
I share her story to honor her memory.

snowing

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