Mr. ****

I wish I could just type his name as the title of my post, but HIPAA says I can't. But I want to because people like him deserve to be recognized. 

I've been caring for him for over a month now. And although he hasn't been my patient throughout the entire duration of his time spent at GSMC, he has been on my mind and heart since the day he was admitted. 

As nurses, we care for all of our patients. But what no one tells you is there will be certain ones, for whatever reason, that really grab hold of you.

They inspire you, and teach you, and in their own special way, fill up an empty space inside of you.  I've written many posts, specifically dedicated to certain patients.  They consist of lessons and things I've learned through my experiences with them.  But even so, "He" has been different.  Maybe it's because he stayed a lot longer than  average, but I think it had a lot more to do than that. 

Maybe it's because I know he spent several years in the Air Force, delivering newspapers in Massachusetts. Maybe it's because I know the name of his wife and all his children...even his oldest son, that took his name, who passed away years ago.  Or the fact that he named his dog "POD."..because he found him outside the post office and called him "poor old dog" until he finally decided to take him home and then "POD" stood for "post office dog." 

Maybe it's because his wife brought in old family photos, in frames, and showed me their 62 years of a beautiful marriage together. (62 years this Saturday) Or that she sat at his bedside every single day, helping him bathe, and eat. Maybe it's because every morning before she got there he would ask, "where is my bride?" 

It could be that he, despite his deteriorating health, maintained his sense of humor.  I asked him one afternoon, "how are you feeling?" And he responded..."well, just as good as I did when I was 28, but just a little bit older." (I'm 28). Or the day I had to give him a soap suds enema and I asked, "how ya doing?" And his response was..."well, I've been a hell of a lot better, but I'm doing alright considering."

Maybe it's because I know he used to love duck hunting but never understood Canadian geese or that he could eat bananas all day, every day. 

Even today, after he told his wife that he didn't think he was going to make it, I asked him what he wanted his daily goal to be... He said, "Just get on my feet, I just want to get on my feet." 

Truth is, he left the hospital today, and he most likely isn't going to get better. And as selfish as it sounds, I just wanted to keep him at GSMC because the thought of coming back to work and him not being there is a loss for me.  

I loved his smile when I walked into his room. I loved the big hugs I received from his wife every morning, and the wave down the hall I got from his son.   I loved his positive spirit and sarcasm.  

As we wheeled him out today, I couldn't help but feel sorry for everyone who never got the chance to know him or his sweet family. 

What no one tells you is that sometimes...sometimes your patients help you more than you help them.