Saturday, November 2, 2013

Via Christi St. Francis Hopsital help

I need help remembering what is on the painted glass mural art in the hallway of the east entrance of Via Christi St. Francis in Wichita from the parking garage along Santa Fe.  I would like a picture or description of the artwork.  It would fit the description in the following excerpt:


        After the flight from Hays to Wichita, my mother would have to be sedated often to completely eliminate the lung infection.  My mother’s medicines had been adjusted to attempt to stabilize her heart rate for the flight, which succeeded, but the infection still needed to be combated.  My father warned me that the adjustment time may be an unpleasant time as the medicinal cocktail my mother was receiving gave her vertigo and at times made her very anxious when she woke up disoriented, which would get worse in a new environment.  He asked me to stay home for a few days, in part so he could do what was necessary to keep Jo Lyn calm and help adjust to her new surroundings, but also he sensed how hectic the situation was to a new mother with a husband returning to work for the academic year.  I spent some time trying to relax and enjoy the little moments of being new parents with a crisis in our immediate proximity.  Those days didn’t have climatic events, but instead the simple moments and joys of family that would keep me sane during what seemed like a catastrophe. 

             When I first went to the Via Christi Hospital St. Francis in Wichita, I went with my biggest supporter, my husband Daniel, and my littlest man, Eli.  We had to use the GPS to get to the hospital, find the right parking lot, call my dad, and have hit meet us at the entrance to help us get to where my mother was.  This hospital was larger, in a part of Wichita near train tracks and industrial areas.  Perhaps it was from the car port, or maybe the color scheme was different, but the hallways feel darker in my memory.  The main hallway from that parking garage had a mural of a tree with many leaves as donors, and a painted glass mosaic of something Christian but not quite unique enough to remember.  This hospital wasn’t like the newly built Hays ICU area with overly white walls and a too clean smell, instead the hallways seemed tight, a little dark, and everything felt a little older, as if funding were somewhat tight. 

            My mother’s room was on the 7th floor, up through an elevator that wasn’t too white, and wasn’t too clean.  Daniel, Eli, and I went down the hall to the waiting room, a tight room with 6 chairs, two tables, a window looking out at another building and a lot of flat room, and some 1000 piece puzzles to keep children older than Eli occupied.  Eli wasn’t going to be allowed into my mother’s room, and the nurses seemed a bit nervous about Eli being on the floor at all.  While the ICU was overly clean and had mandatory hand sanitizer at the entrance, long term critical care had patients who were chronically sick but not wracked in the intense moments between life and death perhaps except when the patient chose to be. 

            When Randy came back to say that Jo Lyn was awake, Daniel offered to stay with Eli so I could go talk to my mother. 
 
 
The entrance would to the right of where this picture is on the east side of the building coming in from the parking garage.  I would go back there myself to look, but I'm not sure I'm ready to step foot in the building again yet...

No comments: