I'm a UPMC employee and my husband was 36 years old, battling stage 4 neuroendocrine cancer when he was diagnosed with heart failure last fall. We have a 3.5 year old son. After a week-long stay in the Shadyside ICU, my husband was moved to Julia's floor (a cardiac floor). It's difficult to find the right words to explain to you just how much Julia touched our lives during this terribly sad and scary time, but here are some thoughts:
She was a breath of fresh air when she entered the room. Always smiling, never looking stressed when I'm sure she was. Treated us exactly like I imagine she treats her family and friends.
S had multiple bone mets, including large ones on his spine and tailbone, which gave him significant pain. As you can imagine, he was on a strict pain med regime to not get behind. He always was mindful of the fact that he had to take narcotics, and in a way, I know he felt embarrassed that he'd have to ask for pain meds, admit he was in pain, etc. We've encountered plenty of nurses in the three years we've dealt with stage 4 cancer and I can honestly tell you, Julia was one of the rare ones who had a way with talking to S about his pain. Watching her interactions with him, he seemed comfortable to just admit to her that his back hurt. She'd be sure to get him his meds on time, which meant so much to him.
Julie was also extremely patient with me. S had been in the ICU due to cardiogenic shock, and due to the lack of blood flow to his brain, wasn't always quite with it even when we went to Julia's floor. As his wife and primary caregiver, I'll be the first one to admit that I took patient advocacy to a whole new level with all of my questions. Julia handled it with grace. Never rushing out of the room. If she didn't know an answer, she went to find the doctor who did. She certainly never stepped out of turn, which I appreciated. I think looking back, I was S's lifeline, and Julia was mine. I was about to lose my husband, and she knew that, respected that, and wanted to be there for me. If that meant going over things with me again and again, she did that.
About two nights before S was going to be discharged home on hospice care (the doctors estimated a few weeks to a few months), Julia entered our room at the end of shift to say goodbye. She was going to be off the next few days, so she wouldn't be there on discharge day. Again, the word grace comes to mind. The mere fact that she took the time to realize she wasn't going to see us again, that in and of itself, makes me know we weren't just a number to her. She handed me a gift bag and a card, and of course, holding it together with grace, she told us she'd never stop thinking about us and to open the gifts later. We exchanged the biggest hug. I opened the card that evening, and her words stopped me in my tracks. Here I had been afraid that I was annoying her with all my questions. That I was the high maintenance wife who the nurses probably complained about. But there she had bought a small gift for our son, whose smile she said, "brightened the world," and she bought me a bracelet with a sea turtle, which came with a message about carrying this sea turtle for strength and protection during life's trying moments. She told me it was evident that I loved my family fiercely, and in that moment, that meant everything to me to read.
As if I wasn't impressed enough by Julia during our hospital stay, S passed away in December. In early January, she reached out to me to personally apologize that she didn't make any of S's services (which were two hours away from Pittsburgh). She shared that she had watched the newspaper most days waiting to see S's obituary but honestly just missed the notice. She had known when we left the hospital what was going to happen (I did, too). She seemed sincerely sad that she couldn't be there to support my son and me, and she again shared what an honor it had been to care for us.
S and I, over the past three years of battling stage 4 cancer together, have traveled around the country—MD Anderson, The James Cancer Center in Columbus, a hospital in Iowa, the NIH in Bethesda, even to a hospital in Switzerland. We've met some amazingly kind people along the way, but I will never forget Julia. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to show her the same kindness she showed me, but I do know that I can let UPMC leadership know how wonderful she is, how lucky they are that she is one of our nurses. Julia is a true DAISY Nurse.