September 30, 2011

“Brain Recovery Unit.” (sign at Johns Hopkins Hospital)

Certain things strike my funny bone.  Others strike it and keep hitting it over and over again.  A recent trip to visit a friend in the hospital struck me.  I’m still laughing.

For all to see upon exiting the elevator on the ninth floor of a certain wing in the hospital is a sign that reads, “Brain Recovery Unit.”  I preface my comments with a shared understanding:  sickness, disease, injury, and human frailties are serious.  No one of us is exempt from the consequences of mortality.  At the same time, there is a certain hope to be found in finding humor during difficult situations. 

Upon seeing the sign, I immediately applied it to myself and wondered how I could check in to the unit.  Were beds available and if so, what would I get?  Would it be brain reclamation, re-creation, retrieval, or rescue?  Is there a package deal that includes all of the above?  Brain repossession wouldn’t be bad either.  My thoughts really raced when I dreamed of becoming a salesman for the unit.  The call list of people who need their brains reclaimed, re-created, retrieved, rescued, and repossessed would keep me busy for decades.  Does anyone know the commission rate for selling such services? 

Ignorance was indeed bliss.  Curious about this “brain recovery” concept, I learned after my visit to the hospital that the medical community has a finite definition of the word ‘recovery’ meaning the act of regaining or returning toward a healthy state.  My hopes for personal brain revival quickly sailed out the window as did my dreams of selling that same hope.

To those who are in a brain recovery unit, my sincere and heartfelt prayers are with you.  To others, like me, who may need some brain restoration, it looks like we’re stuck with what we’ve got.