I found the following email in a draft file from last summer that I planned to share on FB...but, ahem, forgot to do so. It's from June, 2016.
We were heading out to a ballgame when Donna told me that she had symptoms that mimicked heart trouble. She ended up having a cardiac catheterization – she then was discharged with good numbers and no discernible heart issues. She was in the hospital for 4 days.
I was in her room most of the time – talking, reading, writing, and observing the nursing staff…and it was a sight to behold. I have never seen a more caring group of people. Donna had 3 RNs and 2 Techs who were outstanding, each in a unique way. They shared competence, hugs, answers, follow-ups, and unlimited re-assurance. They saw Donna’s anxiousness and addressed it. They comforted while dispensing. They were wonderful.
I had time to think a lot while I was in the hospital room. I had been to my mechanic, Mike, a few days earlier. He put on two new tires for me. One tire had reached the end of its tread life, and the other had open steel belts that glided on the asphalt without the benefit of rubber – a kind of automotive arthritis. Mike is honest and gives me a fair price on parts and repairs – always has the car ready when he says it will be. He gives a good account for himself at work, and I’m sure in life. He likes fixing things, but he is no nurse.
He doesn’t have to talk to the car or be concerned for its feelings or anxiety. He doesn’t have to deal with the car’s family wishes, or take any blame. The car doesn’t care.
The nursing staff at Rex hospital in Raleigh are special. I saw them leave at the end of the day, and they left everything on the field.
In whatever afterlife they believe in – they will get the floor seats. No question.
Donna and I went out yesterday, spent some money, and bought each one of them a box of expensive chocolates (not the dinky ones at the end of the aisle in CVS. No Sir!) and attached a personal card. I gave Donna a list of each person’s attributes as a suggestion of what to write. I know, I’m awful.
We wanted to acknowledge and honor their work. I hope that chocolate gains altitude and jets into their hearts and heads and stays there for a while. Although being chocolate, that time may be abbreviated.
During her stay, too many people were texting Donna in the hospital. I finally made a suggestion…with tongue firmly planted in cheek…indicating to all the texters she would love a home-made apple pie (my favorite, not hers) to help in her recovery.
Those folks know me, know I’m kidding, and know apple pie is my favorite. So viola! We come home and there are 2 pies at our front door!
I spoke with my friend kayak Larry, and when I stated my shock, he said, “We never know when you’re kidding.”
I feel real guilty about it. Maybe I’ll feel better... if I have another piece.