The most demanding part of living a lifetime as an artist is the strict discipline of forcing oneself to work along the nerve of one's own most intimate sensitivity. -Anne Truitt, sculptor (quote supplied by Liz Wessel, R.N.)
Dr. Elizabeth Krueger is one of this world's quiet angels. She works in an area of medicine that is so challenging people often shake their heads when she tells them her specialty. "I could never do that," they tell her.
Dr. Krueger is a neonatologist. A high percentage of her patients are among the tiniest people on earth. All of them are in critical condition. She and her collegues are routinely asked to guide these fragile beings, some weighing less than a pound, along the dangerous pathway to health and stability.
On most days, this exceptional doctor deals with a second group of patients. They are the parents of critically ill babies who look to her for help, for healing, and sometimes for magic.
Dr. Krueger is living "along the nerve" of her "most intimate sensitivity" as surely as is any artist, sculptor or poet. It requires not only "strict discipline" but impressive courage for her to perform at her peak across the twenty-four hour shifts she works. When she can, she catches rest in a room down the hall from the unit when her patients wait. But, how do you rest when you know that at any moment the phone will ring? The calls are rarely good news.
"Sometimes I feel like kicking a hole in the wall," she shared with me once. She has plenty of reasons to. Even with today's medicine, many premature babies are born with permanent problems.
Instead of "kicking a hole in the wall," Dr. Krueger chooses to open her heart as well as her skilled hands. Across nearly a quarter century of working "along the nerve" of her deepest sensitivity, she has had plenty of moments of exhaustion and frustration. She always overcomes.
I attended Divinity School with Dr. Krueger. She was a top student in that setting just as she had been in medical school. Her hard work and extra education are part of the tough training she has pursued so that she can apply her best potential to solving critically important, life-and-death problems.
Elizabeth is one half of a remarkable couple. Her husband, T.C., is a surgeon who has worked extensively and heroically with the Nobel Peace Prize winning program Doctors Without Borders. He was featured recently in the spectacular documentary "Living in Emergency." If you want to see more angels in actions, be sure and see this film. Amazingly, T.C. also graduated from Vanderbilt Divinity School like his wife. Perhaps Divinity school has helped both of them go even deeper in engaging God's Love in their work.
Whatever the case, the Drs. Krueger are among the quiet angels of medicine. They extend their magic touch in the center of the day and in the middle of the night; in Nashville and in distant lands. And In every case, they offer healing as well as curing in a very special ministry of Love.
-Erie Chapman
Their mission of love is both inspiring and motivating. I am in awe of those who continually give in the most dire of circumstances. They are my heroes.
Posted by: Karen York | July 06, 2009 at 10:20 AM
What a beautiful and moving story on the Drs. Kruegers. Their path is not an easy one, not knowing the outcome of all the cases they diligently take on for their patients. Thank you for sharing...
Posted by: Victoria Facey | July 06, 2009 at 11:39 AM
I appreciate reading about these two courageous physicians and I am grateful that they grace our world with Love and healing, compassion and skill. I am one who found out I could not work with kids, no less premature babies who are critically ill. That takes true valor. I have not yet seen the documentary, “Living in Emergency” yet, but I definitely plan to see it.
When I was a nursing student, at age 21, I wanted to be a pediatric nurse. That is until my actual pediatric rotation in college. My instructor assigned me to the pediatric oncology unit. Seeing these little kids with their bald heads and the suffering they had to endure was too much.
I do have one very precious memory. My instructor assigned me to care for a baby that was crying, unrelentingly. I did not have any experience caring for children and I was quite apprehensive. I assessed, did everything I could think of to make sure the baby was okay. Finally, I thought to pick the baby up and cuddle him in my arms. That was what he needed human contact and comfort of loving arms. I think that was the first time my maternal instinct kicked in and it was a most beautiful and intimate experience.
I did not know it at the time but upon graduation, I would go to work on an adult oncology unit. That proved rather difficult too but it seemed to be where I was drawn to work.
Posted by: ~liz Wessel | July 06, 2009 at 02:34 PM
"When what i do and who I am flow as one...
Then science and art mingle
And I am a powerful medicum for healing
Both in life and in death."
~Anonymous
Posted by: ~liz Wessel | July 07, 2009 at 02:31 PM