Historical Sketch: Hospital Scenes, 1996 and 2005

Published 5 days ago • 2 min read

HOSPITAL SCENES 1996 AND 2005

by Kristen West McGuire

Both Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa were hospitalized several times in their final years. Their distinctive spirituality in embracing their frailties inspired millions.

Calcutta, India

“Mother had the grace in the latter years, to have the Blessed Sacrament in her hospital room, and she always wanted it with her…[In August] She had another heart failure right before our eyes. A tube was put down into her lungs to assist her breathing and relieve the pressure on her heart.”

“Before the tubes were finally removed, [the doctor]…said, “Father, go home and bring that box to Mother.” For a second, I wondered, “what box—shoe box?” He said, “That box, that temple they bring and put in her room and Mother looks at it all the time. If you bring it and put it in the room, Mother will become so quiet.”

I realized he meant the tabernacle with the Blessed Sacrament. He said to me, “When that box is in there, in the room, she is just looking and looking and looking at that box.” The Hindu doctor was an unknowing witness to the power of the Eucharist over Mother.”

p. 327-328 Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light The Private Writings of the Saint of Calcutta. Edited and with Commentary by Fr. Brian Kolodiejchuk. NY: Doubleday, 2007.

Rome, Italy

In February 2005, Pope John Paul II was admitted to the Gemelli hospital for the second time that month. His breathing was labored and initial treatments were not working. A tracheotomy was proposed.

“When they told the Holy Father, he turned to me and speaking into one ear, said I should ask the doctors whether it wouldn’t be possible to postpone the surgery until his summer vacation. But when he saw the general reaction, he immediately gave his consent…When [Dr.] Buzzonetti tried to reassure him—“Your holiness, it will be a simple operation”—the Pope quipped, “Simple for whom?”

Of course they told him before going in that he would be unable to speak for a certain period of time. It was only afterward, though, when he woke up from the anesthesia, that he concretely realized what that meant. He signed to me that he wanted to write something. I found him a sheet of paper and a pen.

With a somewhat shaky hand, he tossed off a few words: ”What have they done to me?! But…totus tuus.” He was trying to express both all the regret he felt at no longer being able to speak and his resolute, total self-abandonment into Our Lady’s hands.”

p. 254, A Life with Karol: My 40 Year Friendship with the Man Who Became Pope, by Stanislaw Dziwisz NY: Doubleday, 2008.