I was the chaplain on duty that Friday night. I leaned over the nurse’s station on the surgical intensive care unit to get briefed on the patient awaiting me in Room 1.
“The paramedics brought her in earlier today with a gunshot wound to the head,” the nurse said. “She’s out of surgery. Her parents are here and asked for a chaplain. She’s in an induced coma. She’s not going to live. And if by some miracle she does…” Her voice trailed off, but after three years working at Louisville’s only level 1 trauma center, I’d seen my share of gunshot victims and knew the tragedy that was unfolding. What comfort could I offer this family?
I headed to Room 1, my steps slow and deliberate. Part of my training was that it was okay not
