I returned to work this week and found a Thank You card in my break room box. It was from the daughter of a patient I cared for this summer. It read...
"Dear Andi - As I'm sure you are aware, my dad passed away on ***. I just wanted to say thank you from myself and my sister for all the compassion and care you showed him while he was in your care. That walk that we took with him in the wheelchair with you and Doug (our physical therapist) to the patio was one of the only times I saw him happy at the hospital...so, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!"
We nurses make decisions every day that can make a difference in the lives of those we care for, both patients and families. I am so thankful I overlooked the inconvenience of a busy shift and made time to take this patient and his daughters outside on a beautiful, sunny summer day. My attention to an inner voice allowed this 80+ year old father to smile and see the mountains one last time with his daughters, in what turned out to be one of his final days.
I remember my two days caring for "Bill" very well. He had been involved in a motor vehicle accident a few weeks earlier and was finally approaching the point of being strong enough to remove his breathing tube. His older age and many broken bones were a concern for everyone caring for him, but he was mentally aware and passed the breathing test, so we doctors, nurses and his daughters decided to give him a chance and removed the tube. If he wasn't strong enough to safely maintain his airway, we would consider the next step of a shorter breathing tube in his neck. His daughters were pleased with the decision.
The time that Bill and his daughters had to share and interact with each other without his breathing tube was a privilege to quietly observe. Bill wore his daughters fashionable sunglasses while we were outside and we took a photo of them while on the patio, a photo that I am sure will be cherished forever. Unfortunately, his seemingly more healthy time did not last long. Bill used all his strength and energy to try to protect and clear his airway, but we could see he was wearing himself out and would eventually need our help. Before it was too late, he was able to tell his girls that he did not want a breathing tube in his neck, which proved to be a great help and comfort for his daughters.
My shift ended and I would not return to work for a few days. I learned of Bill's passing and wondered how his daughters were feeling. I knew I had given them the best I could during those two shifts and hoped it would provide some solace during their loss. The thank you card waiting for me answered my wondering. I am relieved I took a step away from the busy tasks of those days and, instead, created an everlasting memory for all of us involved.
Rest in peace, Bill.
