Lights of Hope: One patient’s story
George spent 200 difficult days in St. Paul’s Hospital. On day 201, everything changed.
George Keulen will never forget this moment:
“At 5 a.m., the call came. I would get a double lung transplant. It had been an 18-month wait. I had spent more than six of those months at St. Paul’s, too sick to be at home. Two of my nurses and a member of the team that took care of my IV had gathered at my door. They wanted to share this moment with me. One of them was crying. The other two had huge smiles on their faces. They were so happy for me. That one moment, shared with people who had helped me so much, represented my entire experience at St. Paul’s. This is what the people who work at St. Paul’s are like.”
That fateful early morning was George’s 201st day in hospital — and that phone call marked the end of a long and difficult journey for George that had begun at birth with a diagnosis of cystic fibrosis, the genetic disorder that affects primarily the lungs.
His CF did not catch up to him until his early 20s, when his lung function began to decline. By 2008, when he was 26, George was on the wait list for a double lung transplant.
That transplant would occur a year and a half later, on June 18, 2010, and what followed for George was a new beginning. Inspired by his experience, he went on to complete a Master of Divinity and returned to St. Paul’s — not as patient — but as spiritual caregiver.
Much of George’s life and work today is linked to those 200 days he spent in hospital, the confusion and fear he experienced, but also the care that lifted his spirits throughout his medical journey, and the joy he experienced on the 201st day.
“My gift of 200 days gave me perspective I can bring to my work today helping patients and their families, a perspective I could never have had otherwise. My nurses and care team at St. Paul’s taught me that every time I enter a room, or pull back a curtain, I am stepping on to sacred ground,” he says.
While George speaks to the importance of relating and understanding when he is with patients, he also speaks to the importance of silence and the role it plays.
“The confusion and mystery of what’s happening when you’re seriously ill, especially when you don’t know the answers, these are times when you want to be there for a patient just to be an ally, a stabilizer. That doesn’t mean having answers. Sometimes it means just listening.”
George remembers a night in his hospital bed, back when his double lung transplant was still a year away.
“It was 2009. I was in St. Paul’s over Christmas, in a room on the fifth floor facing Burrard Street. On the night the Lights of Hope were lit, I remember hearing a lot of noise outside, but I didn’t know what was going on. All of a sudden, fireworks go off right outside my window. It was amazing to see. Then I hear cheering. So often in the hospital, you feel isolated. It’s like people don’t want to think about people who are sick. Perhaps it’s that sickness reminds us of our own mortality. But for that moment, amidst the lights and the cheers and the crowd below, I was reminded that people do care. Even though we may not like to think about being sick, we want to help those who are. We care about each other. This brought great comfort to me. I was very sick at that time, very frightened, but that night a spirit of hope stirred within me.”
This year, Lights of Hope celebrates its 20th anniversary. Bring hope to patients at St. Paul’s by making your gift now at www. lightsofhope.com.