Holiday Cheer

My father got a phone call a few days ago from “Anthony” who works at UC San Diego, inviting Sid to a holiday party on campus. The background . . . Sid volunteered for more than 20 years in the Clinical Engineering Services department where medical equipment was refurbished. He was a mentor to young electrical engineers, thoroughly enjoying tinkering, rescuing broken parts, and bringing back mystery items to his workshop at home. When my brother and I cleaned out my parents’ house, we discovered surgical knives, prosthetic legs, and infusion pumps (a big hit at our garage sale). After my mother’s health deteriorated 6 years ago and Dad could no longer drive, he couldn’t continue the commitment; it sapped his spirit. He fondly reminisces about this chapter in his life; he assumed he was long forgotten.

Sid wasn’t forgotten. Anthony and other staff at UCSD decided to do some detective work. His old phone number didn’t forward. However they searched online and used public data, including my mother’s death record, to locate him. Sid was so surprised by the call at his retirement village that he didn’t remember any specifics about the party, and he told Anthony he wouldn’t be able to attend. He then mentioned the call to me. Well I’m a pit bull and I set out to find Anthony; when there’s a will (and the internet) there’s a way. The name of the department is different (now it’s Biomedical Engineering), the location changed, but I connected with Anthony. He told me that Sid was one of their best volunteers; everyone misses his intelligence and sense of humor. They had not been able to track him down until now.

I’m not in town on the date of the event, and considered how to get Dad transported. He said “no one remembers me anymore, I’m 93, they think I’m dead.” Clearly they don’t. Anthony is arranging for one of the other retirees to pick up Sid and drive him to the party, where he will be the guest of honor. Sid doesn’t know it yet. I’ll probably have to play up the free lunch angle to convince him it’s worthwhile.

Amidst mass shootings and seasonal stress, this story shines with compassion. It certainly reinforced my outlook about the inherent goodness of people. And oh, by the way, I completed my patient advocacy certification program yesterday. That’s called “burying the lede.” Anthony’s call was my graduation present.