I love being a nurse. I really do. The work is hard and not always gratifying. What I have gained from it is the ability to feel a sense of satisfaction when I am not praised for my efforts. This is not an easy feat. We all love to know that we have done a good job and god knows, we love to hear it.
Mother Theresa was a true saint. She once wrote a poem about this very subject. Will you do good if no one is paying attention? If you do a good deed in the forest and no one is there to see it are you satisfied knowing you did a good deed? Your answer should be yes. I am going to share a good deed story. Unfortunately, I am the one doing the good deed. I hope writing about it does not nullify it in your mind.
My many years in home health have been very rewarding. I am in the patient's environment and am afforded the opportunity to touch their lives and that of their family members. One patient stands out in my mind. He had Multiple Sclerosis. His disease was in the advanced stages. I am going to call him "Jake" and his wife "Linda".
Jake and Linda were very much in love. Linda was a strong woman. Her love and devotion for Jake was very evident. She was also caring for her adult develop mentally disabled sister, "Doll". I know that I would have a difficult time pulling that care situation off. Linda did it and made it look easy.
The home health agency had been referred in to asses and care for Jake's ulcers (bed/pressure sores). Linda was very familiar with the routine. She would dress Jake's wounds two times a day. I would come in two to three times a week to measure and assess the progress. Jake didn't have the strength to fight infection or keep his skin clear from pressure sores. Linda's efforts hardly made a dent in the healing process. We, Linda and myself, knew it was just a matter of time before some super infection would take Jake from this world.
The visits I made were tense at times. Linda was obviously getting stressed over the lack of progress Jake was making. Caring for Doll was making it difficult too. I had asked Linda about adult school/care for Doll. She would be able to be around others like herself and get some time away from the building tension in the home. Wow, Linda was angry with me. She proclaimed, "Doll went to school until she was eighteen!". I took a deep breath and told her that their were schools that continued for adults to keep them stimulated and provide some respite for caregivers. As always, Linda said she would think about it. I knew she would eventually agree to it. This was a familiar dance of two strong women. She knew I had her and her family's best interest in mind.
My next visit Linda sat with me and asked how Doll might get into one of these programs. I had given her the numbers to call and the process was started that day. Poor Doll had to endure her first pelvic exam to get into that school program. She did not understand what the hell was going on. Linda knew it was a means to a better end for Doll. Oh, almost forgot. Doll was never officially diagnosed as a child. The doctor that had performed the female exam gave Linda an official diagnosis of Happy Puppet Syndrome. That is just as Doll look. She was adorable with a huge smile on her face.
Linda decided she would introduce this program slowly to Doll. For a week she took her daily and sat while she worked with therapists and interacted with other students. Doll was scared at first and Linda was having a hard time letting go. Constant reassurance allowed Doll to adjust to the new environment. The next big hurdle was getting her on the bus. The same process was started to adjust Doll to the next level of getting her a little independent. She was a trooper. Soon Doll was running to meet the bus! She chattered all the time and showed Linda the pictures she had colored. I was honored to be a part of that. O.K., one down and another task to go.
The next thing for me to accomplish was getting Linda ready for Jake's passing. The holidays were fast approaching and I feared Jake would not make it through. Linda had a hard time coming to terms that Jake was failing and failing fast. He was such a trooper. He was hanging on for Linda. I took to task of explaining the process of a dying loved one. Linda was hard pressed to believe she was going to lose Jake. She was horrified when I had suggested she give Jake permission to leave this world. I thought she was going to throw me out of the house. She hung her head and wept. I wept with her. I have no fear of crying with a loved one or a patient. I am not any less a nurse for doing so.
Jake barely made it through the holidays. January was here and Linda could not bring herself to let him go. I am not into forcing folks but there comes a time when a patient's body just cannot take the strain. My last visit to his home brought those fears to light. Jake was struggling with each breath and his lungs were filling with fluid.. Linda knew it was there but could not bring herself to tell him to go or to have him die at home. I called an ambulance and he was taken to the hospital.
One day turned into two and Linda remained at his bedside. Her breaking point came late that second night. A kind nurse had repeated the words she had heard me speak. Linda was ready. She spoke to Jake in soft tones, " Baby, I love you. You need to let this body go and wait for me to join you." That said, Jake took his last breathes that night and left this world.
Linda was sad that I would not be coming to visit her and Doll. She said she did not know how she would repay me. I told her to pay it forward(long before the movie!). Helping someone in need is the way to repay kindness shown.
I lost touch with Linda. Lives were busy and my children were growing by leaps and bounds. My second daughter was working at Sear's. She was a sales person in the clothing dept. She also had a nasty habit of smoking. We frequently talked of her work and how she liked it. She told me of a woman she had been taking smoking breaks with for weeks. This woman talked of a nurse that had cared for her husband. My daughter said this woman spoke so kindly of the nurse that she had asked her name. Her reply, "Deirdre". My daughter had met Linda. I think my daughter actually saw me in a different light. I never went home and talked of work. Linda was so pleased to find out she had been talking to my daughter. I know Linda had asked for our address. My daughter obliged.
One year later I heard from Linda. She wrote to tell me of her helping an elderly woman back east. This little lady was in her nineties and could no longer make it up her steps. The women still lived in the house where she had birthed 9 children. Linda was there building a ramp for her wheelchair. She wanted to pay it forward as I had once told her.
Now, go pay it forward.
Deirdre, a voice in the crowd
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