I wish there was just one time in my 10 years of nursing that Chris saved me. Truth is he’s still kind of saving me. And it’s not just me, it’s the whole unit. He’s our “work Dad.” Can you imagine being a work “Dad” over a whole unit of nurses for 25+ years? He’s moved each of us at least once, some of us twice. Every Christmas, Chris heads up the donation fund to make sure our staff always had a good year. He’s the first to fundraise for someone ill or experiencing hardship. Often contributing more than his fair share. Chris is more than a senior nurse, he’s the meat and potatoes in our burn world. As a baby nurse in my first code, Chris handed me meds to push. I did not do anything extravagant but pushed the meds handed to me. He told me good job later with a quick pat on the back. I ran with that iota of confidence. It gave me a little sprinkle of courage to keep doing hard things. That’s all I could ever hope to pass on to my orientees now. The confidence to do hard things, with a safe, strong friend to guide you along the way. Chances are if you’ve ran CRRT in any Wichita hospital, you’ve talked to Chris. During the height of COVID, he was troubleshooting the machine the middle of the night with an entire ICU in Chicago. The nurse who called him had left BICU to travel. Turns out, even when you leave home, you still need your work Dad.