I am one of those folks who has a hard time when the seasons change and daylight savings goes away. It doesn’t help that my office is in the basement of the hospital, and a lot of my time is spent in rooms without windows.

I find that when I am in the hospital for more than eight hours, my days and nights blur together. There are no physical changes in the lighting that tell me that evening is here. There are no temperature changes to suggest it’s midday. Hours go by and I realize when my stomach growls that it’s 2 p.m. and I haven’t eaten lunch and the caf is closed.

Bummer.

In learning to pace myself in this unnatural world of fluorescents, demands, pagers, beeping machines and call bells, I discovered a very simple trick that helps keep me balanced. It’s almost so simple that it’s scary. It’s natural sunlight.

So that my body clock does not go wacko, I get outside, even for just five minutes. If it’s raining I stand under a walkway near the main entrance. If it’s hot, I find a shady place to sit. If it’s pleasant, I take a stroll around the new meditation garden near Oncology, or a walk on the paths between some of the facilities on campus.

Sunlight. Imagine that.

I know that I have to guard against being affected by the diminishing light of the seasons. We have used “full spectrum” lights in our home so that I can combat the Seasonal Affective Disorder that can plague me in the mid-winter. When I can, I watch my caffeine and water intake, and generally work on being more active outside during the daylight hours.

When I think about how I am affected by this life under fluorescent lights, I wonder about the patients and their families, some of whom are here for weeks at a time. I understand the all-consuming worry that makes it hard for a parent or relative to leave, but I find myself saying, “Take care of you! Go take a walk outside!”

They look at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am. But I crave the things that God gives us in this world – sunlight – birds singing – trees moving in the wind – and fresh air.

Day and night. Night and day. Gotta have them.