Formal Zen student Sabrina Jian Starnaman is the only Buddhist Chaplain at her Level 1 trauma center in Dallas, Texas. In the following reflection, Jian shares a poignant story of connection with a patient at the bedside.
One Saturday night this winter around 9:00pm I responded to a call from a very concerned nurse about a woman patient in emotional distress. I hesitated to go, because I was the only chaplain in the hospital at that time and was carrying both the on-call and trauma pagers; someone, I reasoned, could see her the next day when there would be two chaplains. Yet I felt compelled by the nurse’s tone. So I made my way to the unit the patient was assigned to. When I arrived, the room was totally dark. I entered the room, stepped into the dark and made my way around to the bed by the window. There was a dim light coming from a cellphone on the pillow quietly playing classical music; I could see by that faint light that the bed was empty. The bathroom door was at my right shoulder. I looked over but no light leaked from under the door.
“Monica?” I stage-whispered into the darkness.
“Yes, I’m here,” came a voice from below, just in front of me. “I’m praying.” She was on her knees beside the bed.
She made no move to stand, so I asked if I could join her. I joined her side-by-side on my knees with my arms resting on the bed. We were very close to one another, arm brushing arm, both facing the bed. In the darkness we talked about her fears and anxiety; she was worried about dying and leaving her children. I held space for her distress and asked questions to elicit deeper exploration. She told me about her three children. We discussed how she might record videos for her children on her phone so that if she died, she would leave messages behind for them. This, she thought, was something she wanted to do. She told me that she declined the medication for anxiety that her doctor wanted to prescribe for her. Before I left, we practiced some breathing exercises to shift her body into a ventral vagal state of calm engagement and discussed how she could use these on her own. Together we breathed silently in the darkness.
Then pager went off—there was a death in the ICU I needed to attend. As I left, she shared that she had been praying to God for help and felt that the timing of my visit was divine, and I agreed. Our meeting felt divine to me too.
Sabrina Jian Starnaman began her journey in CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) after completing Foundations in Contemplative Care at New York Zen Center. She is currently enrolled in the Master of Arts in Pastoral Care and Counseling, a joint program with New York Zen Center and New York Theological Seminary. Jian received Jukai in December 2020, and is a formal student of Sensei Chodo Campbell.
2 Responses
Beautiful. The work that hospital chaplains do is so essential and so helpful to patients, staff and all they touch. I am a recently retired nurse who also worked in a trauma center(s) and always appreciated the chaplains and the calm, gentle presence they brought to the environment. Thank you for the gifts you give.
I am a recently retired chaplain after having been in hospital and hospice ministry for over 23 years. Sabrina truly captured the essence of the role as chaplain. I was so touched she demonstrated presence by kneeling beside her patient, mirroring her, and offering her such comforting words and breathing. Way to go, Sabrina! You are a gem!