As a registered nurse and a nurse educator, I am familiar with the DAISY Award and am pleased to see St. Mary's Hospital offers this honor. Thank you for the opportunity to share the story below. In it, Courtney exemplifies the science and art of nursing with the skills, compassion, and grace to offer physical, emotional, and spiritual comfort in a time of crisis. This story of my experience is just a glimpse of the care that Courtney Rehder offers every day. Thank you, Courtney!

On a snowy February night, I followed the ambulance from Greencreek to St. Mary's Health in Cottonwood. I didn't know what to expect. We had encountered bumps in the road since my father-in-law was first diagnosed with cancer the previous year, but the fall that landed at the bottom of the stairs that evening was the biggest bump yet. I offered up a prayer and crept along.

I found a place to park and tiptoed through the hospital doors. Despite my years as a nurse, it felt daunting - an unknown space to me. With COVID-19 caution at the time, I was uncertain whether I would ever see His again. They might now allow visitors. I was alone. Tears welled. I swallowed them.

As I stomped the snow off my boots, I was greeted by a warm and supportive nurse saying, "He is right here. Please come in." The nurse immediately recognized me as the mom of a student in her husband's class. The nurse was Courtney Rehder.

With me at his side, Courtney assessed his pain; he spoke with difficulty, so she asked me a few questions. She listened as I explained that he doesn't normally use much pain medication, but also, this is the worst I have ever seen him. She gave him something that would act quickly but keep him alert. We witnessed his body relax as the extreme pain waned.

The doctor shared that the impact of the fall was too great for his cancer-ridden body to survive, and Courtney stayed with us.

He seemed at peace once the pain was relieved. His body relaxed, and his breathing slowed. Courtney quietly found reasons to be nearby or in our room. Calmly, she anticipated what we might need.

In his last moments, Courtney was there. We watched his breathing end, and we silently sat together. The snow fell outside, and in the room, there was a moment of peace. Perhaps grace.

After the doctor confirmed his death, I asked Courtney if she would stay and pray. We prayed together a prayer familiar to both of us - the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. The stillness in a moment when many nurses would find much to do to keep busy was a blessing to me. The handheld and the time spent was a precious gift.

Courtney gently asked, "Do you want to call anyone?" and I realized that I couldn't speak. With tears in my eyes, I croaked, "my husband." He was in Iowa. Courtney asked if she could help. So, I pulled my phone and dialed but knowing my tears would flow I asked if she would talk to him first. She gently took my phone, and I could hear him on the other end saying. "Good evening!" He was waiting by the phone for an update. Courtney conveyed the news with tenderness and assured him that I was right there and that it was a peaceful passing. She handed me the phone and quietly left the room.

I don't know how long I spent, but I know I never felt rushed. It was late when Courtney walked me out to the parking lot. She gave me a hug and said she would pray for my safe drive home. Along Greencreek Road, the gently falling snow sparkled in the shine of my headlights. It was a sight that my father-in-law would have loved.