Kristi demonstrated the expertise and compassion that is exemplified in this unit each and every shift by the nursing staff that takes care of the sickest of critical care patients. Her ability to extend herself both physically and emotionally beyond an expected non-stop 12 hour shift was extraordinary in my eyes.

Kristi came on at 7pm expecting a somewhat "normal" night shift with a 2 patient assignment. As the daylight charge nurse, what I had to tell her to expect was anything but routine. Her assignment would be a 32 year old beloved son and brother who walked into Hillman Cancer center "not feeling well" after his recent chemotherapy treatment for a cancer diagnosed only 2 months before and now in for the last painful fight of his short life. I had responded to a condition called for him at Hillman just hours prior to A's arrival for the operating room, so I knew a bit about the background of this young soul and his fasclitis of his right calf because of neutropenia and had to be taken to the OR for a fasciotomy to save his limb. He was profoundly septic from his complete lack of ability to fight infection and arrived from the OR profoundly unstable as a result. Heart rate in the 180s and hypotensive, the race had begun to recapture his life that hung in the balance.

Methodically Kristi took over A's care, directing others how to assist her and not missing a beat. She was in critical care nurse mode. The MICU team under Kristi's direction worked in rhythm to get A sedated and relieve his pain. I recall my job like it was an hour ago. Hold his hand, talk gently and reassure him until he drifted off to a more comfortable slumber, no longer looking terrified or bucking the vent. I soon was able to go home for the night, leaving A. in Kristi and team's capable hands. I did not sleep much that night, knowing I would return in the morning and wonder how the night was progressing.

I secretly knew the answer to that question. Kristi never left the room of A and was forced to pull out all of the magic she could muster to try to make a difference in his condition. There was A to care for along with frightened parents and 2 brothers all fearing the worst. This is not the job for a mere nurse; this is the job of a superhero. Kristi was my hero that night and I know that she was the hero of A's family even though the story has a tragic ending, one that left everyone involved exhausted and Kristi defeated as she quietly left the unit in the morning.

On my way back to work in the morning, I spoke to our night RIC nurse who filled me in on the events of the shift and how she thought that maybe some donuts would help. I brought bagels, coffee, and a hug since all three seem to make things better.

A DAISY Award for such a special nurse who endured such a difficult night would be much deserved.