I will share a little history with my dad to put things into perspective. Dad is 71 and still works full time by choice because of his passion to serve others. He can also be very demanding at times. He had an aorta-bifem and immediately after discharge he began having challenges with abdominal pain. Through three trips to the ER, a readmission, and a plea for relief; he had a robotic colectomy with ostomy at FWCH. All of the care has been great, and one nurse I can’t even describe how exceptional he has been.

Edward is the epitome of what a nurse should be. Our first encounter with Edward was when he was assisting as a tech on the 3rd floor, and then luckily, Dad had him as his nurse. Dad had struggled with pain and no ostomy output since surgery until Monday afternoon (5 days). My dad texted me on Monday morning prior to shift change, begging me for help because he was in so much pain. I could tell my dad was scared. I showered and came on in to check on him. He didn’t look like my dad, and I could tell he was miserable. Soon after my arrival, Edward came into the room. He was both gentle and firm at the same time with my dad regarding what needed to happen and the exact plan. He explained the why behind everything to help gain my dad’s buy-in. He made my dad and me feel like we were all that mattered every time he came in the room. I left to go to work, and as soon as I made it through the threshold of the exit doors, I broke down in tears. Eleven years ago, my brother died at the age of 31 because the nursing team (an outside health system) didn’t quickly recognize he was septic, and when we, the family, tried to advocate for him, they wouldn’t listen. I know this is what my dad was reimagining when he texted me before shift change. I also was feeling self-guilt that I hadn’t taken my dad seriously enough before his surgery. I thought, how can it be that I am the nurse who wouldn’t listen to my own dad, just like the nurses with my brother? 

I say all of that to explain how prior experiences play into the response from patients and families when in stressful situations. I knew Edward was going to take exceptional care of my dad and give him the opportunity that I felt I had failed at. I visited again later in the day, and my dad looked night and day better than when I had seen him that morning. Now a lot of this was because he had output from his ostomy, so he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore. The other part of him looking better was the care provided to him by Edward. Edward let Dad know he was in his room a lot right now, but as he got better, he would pull back some so Dad would regain his independence. When Edward was not in dad’s room, he would refer to him as “my main man Edward”. 

My mom has stayed with my dad most days until about 5 pm, and the one person’s name she remembers is Edward’s. She constantly talks about how great Edward is and every detail he shared with them. Their ability to relate to Edward allowed them to relax when he spoke, and in return, they comprehended what he was telling them. They trusted him! This type of nurse-patient bond is one that leads to quality and safe care. We knew a heparin assay was missed, and Edward told us the plan and what he was doing, so it didn’t happen again the following morning when he wouldn’t be on shift. Yes, a mistake was made, and everyone was reassured because the mistake was acknowledged, and a plan was put in place to mitigate it in the future. 

I could write a book about how great Edward has been caring for my dad while still caring for us as his family. I truly believe Edward treats all his patients this way, not just my dad. He is just simply amazing!