Jenny Womble is a Trauma Nurse Clinician at VCU Health System. She is an integral part of the interdisciplinary care for trauma patients throughout our health system. In the time I have known Jenny, I have been so impressed and inspired by her knowledge base, empathy, and passion for what she does. While Jenny deserves a million DAISYs for numerous different things, she made a particular impression on me today when I was receiving report on my patient in the Surgery Trauma ICU. 

My patient was a man under a trauma name, who, at the time of me receiving report, was actively dying after hours of life-saving measures proved to be futile. At the time, the team had been unable to locate the patient’s next of kin. His teetering on the verge of life and death was so fragile yet so quick; he had shown up in the middle of the night, and by the time the sun was rising, his heart was taking its final cadence. Because this patient’s death occurred during shift change, there wasn’t the normal attention that typically accompanies the passing of a patient. As I was getting report, the patient’s heart was still beating. The off going nurse finished giving me report, explaining how much blood the patient had received, how many rounds of compressions were performed, and how much effort the night shift team put into trying to save this “John Doe’s” life. As I was getting report, I saw Jenny Womble, holding this man’s hand and rubbing his head, saying reassuring things to him as his heart stopped beating. 

I never saw Jenny enter and I never saw her leave, because even after all her years of experience and her depth of knowledge, she is humble above all else. The patient was pronounced dead, and after a brief pause, the rest of the unit went about their day. She checked in with me briefly to ask how the family was doing, but never mentioned her own actions in the situation. The entire time I was getting report on my patient, which was about seven minutes, was the time in which the patient was actively dying. For those seven minutes, it seemed like Jenny was family to that patient. She patiently stood there, comforting him in his final moments as he passed away, seemingly alone in a hospital with no one he knew or loved around. 

This is the amazing thing about Jenny, whether if you’ve known her 2 years or 2 seconds, she has a way of making you feel like you’re safe with her no matter what. This is a reason why I am so very grateful for Jenny, because when we were able to get ahold of this patient’s family, they came and visited him to say their final goodbyes. When they asked me about his final moments, I knew I was telling them the truth when I told them, “He wasn’t alone”.