On October 3rd, my family was notified to "come now" to UK Surgical ICU by the attending physician, Dr. T. My precious, 89-year-old Uncle Billie had just finished surgery at the VAwhen "something" went wrong. He had aspirated on induction of anesthesia. Since there wereno visitors allowed at the VA, we were not able to be with him pre-operatively. They weregracious and allowed the family to speak with him by phone on the way to the OR for hisemergency surgery and little did we know, those would be the last words heard from thisprecious man of God.
We got a call around 2:30 am that the surgery had gone well. We received another call at 3:30 am that his oxygen saturation and blood pressure could not be maintained, and we needed, per Dr. T, to "come now." The team moved him to UK ICU while we were en route. As an RN myself, I know what the "come now" call means, and I was extremely upset with a feeling of impending doom for my family and my uncle.
Upon arrival to UK, we were screened and ushered quickly to the ICU consult room where we were met by the physician team who explained what was happening. I knew my family member was in grave danger. I believed the team was doing everything they could to try to get him to pull through this very critical time. Up to this point, everyone was simply doing their job, givinggreat care and hoping for the best. Enter Janis. UK could not be more fortunate to have her on the team. While I initially sized her up to be a young millennial Nurse who was in diapers
when I started practicing (yes, I know some of you are shaking your heads knowing what Imean), I could not have been more impressed by her constant attention to detail, herunwavering commitment to care for my family member the best way possible, and herexceptional care and support she gave my family. Once she knew two of us were Nurses, shebegan to speak two languages: one to the Nurses, and one to the lay family members.
We all understood the grave nature of the situation and the likelihood of survival-it was not going to happen for us. God was calling him home, and there was nothing we could do about it. One of the most striking comments in the Cleveland Clinic Empathy video on patient experience is where one of the patients states he could, "tell within 30 seconds of him/her entering the room if the caregiver is truly present in the moment" while caring for the patient. Janis was "in the moment" with us. She never left our side. She ensured our Pastor could come to the bedside and worked so hard to try to buy my uncle some time while waiting for our Pastor. She made what we knew would be futile attempts at medication adjustments, fluid adjustments, etc. just to try to keep him with us a little longer.
I don't think I have, including me with 28 years of experience, ever seen a healthcare provider who felt more sorry for a family. She stood by us, talked continuously to us giving updates, made accommodations for us to sing and pray our precious, loving uncle into Heaven. Janis, his wife of 66 years, is so appreciative of everything you tried to do for us, and we will never forget your kindness, compassion, and empathy. To the UK team reading this, she kept repeating, "I can't even imagine..." But, I think she could. I felt her presence with us, she was "truly in the moment" every step of the way for 3 hours. She turned the monitors off but asked the Nurses first, showing respect for colleagues of the same profession. She comforted us as much as our current conditions allow, and she afforded us as much time with him as possible. Thank you, Janis Stroud, for being our angel in our time of need. We will never forget the manner in which you cared for all of us.