The Third Place

The third place is a concept in community building that defines the third place where you spend your time. Home and work are the first and second places, sometimes not in that order, unfortunately. The third place could be a church, a park, a coffee shop, or a bar. In “Friends,” Central Perk was the third place. In Cheers, it was obviously a bar. I can relate to that. In my twenties, a bar was probably where I spent most of my time in my third place. I don’t do that as much now that I’m older. Those who have seen me shirtless know that the gym is not my third place. A buffet line would be a better guess.

Now things are different. For the last eighteen months, the children’s hospital has been my third place. During our extended stay in the ICU with Audrey, the children’s hospital felt like my second place. I would offer a nod of familiarity to the nurses and doctors just like I would when I entered an office building for work. Our stays in the hospital are not as long anymore, but I am here more than any other third place.

As I write this, I’m waiting on Audrey to finish her tenth surgery. Michelle and I had to stop and count because we honestly couldn’t remember what number we were on. And in between the surgeries, there is always a doctor’s appointment or a test that has to be run, so I can navigate these buildings as easy as my house now. She is getting another cochlear implant, so my anxiety level is much lower than my previous stays, but it’s still a day in the hospital.

A children’s hospital is the most amazing place that you never want to be. It is the ultimate confluence of heaven and hell on earth. It’s the place where some parents see their child for the last time. It’s also the place where the same group of people walk straight into hell every day and make beautiful things happen. They save lives. They put smiles on the faces of children who won’t see their next birthday. Thank you to everyone who has ever worked at a children’s hospital. Some of them make a lot of money, some of them don’t. But they are all storing up treasures in heaven.

I often wonder what life would be like spending every day in this third place. Just imagine drinking your coffee on your morning commute knowing that you might see a child die today. Whenever I am in this third place, deadlines and sales quotas don’t hold as much weight on me as they used to.

This should be our last surgery until we have to replace Audrey’s heart valve again, which should be at least several years, fingers crossed. As Audrey’s condition improves every day, I guess I’ll be on the hunt for a new third place. I hope I find one as important as this one.