I had quite the experience a couple of weeks ago.
My son was born 5 weeks premature at Lockport
hospital via an emergency c-section. He started off screaming when he came into
the world, but when removed from the operating room his breathing became
problematic. His retractions were strong and you could see his little ribs as
he struggled to get air.
The STAT team from Women and Children’s Hospital was
brought in. They had to intubate young Warren and squeeze a bag attached to
that tube to help him breathe. He was then whisked away to W&C where I
later joined him for a few days while my wife had to stay back at Lockport and
recover.
It was a stressful time, but it had a happy ending
as mom and son were reunited 3 days later and they were able to come home the
next day.
How does one manage those stresses, seeing his
newborn son poked, prodded, and hooked to oxygen while his wife was 45 minutes
away unable to leave her room?
It was tough, but through those 5 days between 2
hospitals there was one constant that helped us greatly: nurses.
They cheered me on through Warren’s birth; consoled
me while Warren was in his moments of crisis; gave me hope for his recovery;
gave my little boy tender loving care; nursed him to health and regularly
checked on Warren – and me.
They showed love and interest for their littlest
patient while doing the same for his doting, half-scared dad. Their care and
concern were genuine and done while doing the duties that comes with bringing
Warren into this world, checking his vitals, feeding him, testing his blood,
making sure his IV and oxygen took, and so much more.
These multifaceted women were truly special. They
eliminated my despair and made me feel good about, and trusting of, people and
modern medical science.
This wasn’t my first positive experience with
nurses.
I try to stay out of the hospital but I ended up in
Lockport Hospital back in 1999 after appendix exploded, which I had ignored,
chalking it up to food poisoning. That led to a real poisoning of my insides
and I came close to dying. I needed emergency surgery and spent almost a week
in the hospital while losing 30 pounds which I didn’t have to lose to begin
with.
All of the nurses took really good care of me, day
and night, making sure I was battling infection while being kept comfortable –
I needed special comfort because after the first day I told them no more pain
killers, despite the open 6 inch wound in my abdomen and tubes inside my torso.
They were incredible. I can especially remember one nurse, Mrs. Struckman,
wheeling me out at the end of the week with a tear in her eye, so happy that I
survived what many people wouldn’t have and that I was able to go home.
In both the recent adventure and that one 18 years
ago, we were truly and fully cared-for. But, the most remarkable thing was – we
weren’t their only patients! They did a
lot not only for my family, but also for other patients and families in those
hospitals. Those nurses balanced upon a stressful tightrope over their 12-hour
shifts taking care of all of us with our own unique problems.
That’s something nurses do every day, all year, all
their working lives, with limited fanfare other than an appreciative smile or
tear from a patient’s parent, or the joy that comes with that patient being
better and heading home.
In my darkest days when I almost died or when I
thought my son might die, nurses were there to save us and give us hope.
That’s more than a career choice; that’s a higher
calling!
For that, one cannot help but think that nurses
might just be angels on Earth.
I’m so thankful that those wonderful angels are
here with us, performing their miracles, small and large, every day.
From the 20 March 2017 Greater Niagara Newspapers
2 comments:
Congratulations on the birth of Warren. And, thanks for praising nurses, I think they get too little thanks for all they do.
You are so right about nurses they are Angels and often are the brunt of negative posts...Thank for
recognizing them and taking the time to show your appreciation...Congrats Warren is beautiful...
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