First Impressions

I hate first impressions.  I do not trust my first impressions of people and I hate feeling like someone else is making a first impression of me.  It is an uncomfortable feeling.  One of the chaplains at the hospital brought to our attention that we really are in the “first impressions” business.  We walk into our room and immediately the patient makes a judgment on us, just as we make judgments of them.  We can all pretend and say, “I don’t judge people on first impressions,” but I would argue that it’s inevitable.  It’s a part of our inner-being, even if our thoughts can change in the first 30 seconds of a visit.  So here are some of the more interesting first impressions of me that patients have verbalized:  They sometimes confuse me for the social worker.  Must be because I’m female.  Sometimes they ask me if I’m still in training.  Must be because I look 12.  I have even been confused for a nun.  Probably because the patient was Catholic.  Some people say, “How cute that you’ve been able to find your calling at such a young age.”  Yes, cute...I really love that one.  My favorite was the time when one woman said, “Oh, I must not have been clear in speaking with my nurse…I was asking for a priest.”  She then teared up and began to quiver until she burst into tears for the remainder of the visit.  It was so awkward it was almost funny.  I just sat there to give her the space to open up (that’s what we’re trained to do) until I felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown, so I told her I’d find a priest to come see her.

Most of my visits don’t involve any awkwardness, but they’re not as fun to talk about.  Usually they result in the patient saying, “Oh hi, chaplain, I’m so thankful you came.”  Sometimes they’ll ask me to sit down.  Sometimes they’ll take my hand and hold it tightly.  Sometimes they are confused and don’t know what a chaplain is (so they start rambling off their blood pressure and prescription list to me).  Sometimes they begin to share stories or they stare into my eyes looking for the hope that they’ve lost in themselves.  I guess I just wonder how chaplains are viewed outside the realm of the chaplain’s world.  I have often heard people say we are representatives of God going into the rooms.  That sure brings a heavy responsibility!  I find peace knowing that I am not bringing the presence of God into a room, but that God is already present in the room and that I enter into that holy space with the patient and with God.

So I suppose, as much as I hate it, that I will continue to develop first impressions when I meet people.  But my hope is that I can educate myself to know that first impressions aren’t always right.  After all, I am not the stereotypical chaplain: I am young and female.  But I am not a student: I am an ordained minister.  And I am not a social worker or a nun: I am a chaplain.