My sister was in this hospital for about 3 weeks following a very traumatic accident. For the first week, due to her trauma and the (necessary) dissociative nature of her pain management regimen, she felt a lot of confusion and fear about her condition and a lot of uncertainty regarding her treatment. She had gone through an emergency surgery, a second major surgery, and was awaiting a third major surgery, navigating immense pain and hopelessness in between.

Lily was our nurse one evening after a long week of anxiety, confusion, and fear. From our first interaction with her, she was a markedly reassuring presence, simply by her mannerisms and the calm, quiet confidence she carried about her. It was clear she is a pro at what she does—she was attentive, diligent, and professional, both in her words and in the way she performed her care and duties. However, what really stood out most about Lily was the level of care and one-on-one support she provided.

Lily was a grounding presence in a very scary time. She treated my sister not just as a patient, but as a human—she listened to her concerns, questions, and frustrations and ended up sitting with us for a long while, late at night, simply to provide answers, insight, and support. She took the time to explain many things that had been murky or difficult to pin down up to that point. She was never pandering in her responses or in her treatment, which made a huge difference because it felt like, again, my sister was being treated as a person or a peer: with respect and kindness and clarity.

And beyond all of this, on a particularly stressful evening, Lily could see that my sister was struggling emotionally. She was feeling hopeless and sad (and honestly pretty gross after surgeries and immobility and the inability to shower). After a long first week, it was clear my sister just needed an extra level of compassion that went beyond a simple conversation. So, to try and at least make the best out of a bad situation, Lily took the time to change all the bedsheets, bathe her, clean her dressings, find new pillows and blankets, get her into a fresh gown and warm socks, and get her settled into a much more comfortable spot, gently and calmly and soothingly.

For whatever reason, this seemingly small act made a huge impact on my sister’s well-being. She felt comforted and cared for, and I could see that, even for a moment, suddenly her situation looked a little less dim. That night, with her clean bed and clean gown and clean skin, I saw her laugh and smile for the first time since being in the hospital.

Lily sat with us and talked when we needed it. She gave us a lot of insight and honest optimism. She helped qualm my sister’s fears about her upcoming surgery. She checked on her throughout the night, doing whatever she could to proactively address both her physical and emotional well-being. She promised to check on us after her days off, during which the surgery my sister was so scared about happened, and sure enough, the night after the surgery, Lily came in just to gently check on us and see how it went.

I’ve been thinking often about the brief time Lily cared for my sister because, in the totality of her time in the hospital, Lily happened to be placed with my sister during arguably the toughest, darkest period of her stay. All of our nurses were wonderful, but the level of humanization Lily brought to the experience and those difficult moments made a world of difference. I will always be so grateful she was there to turn the lowest point my sister experienced into even a moderately bright spot.

I will always remember her professionalism and expertise, but more so, I will also especially remember how balanced that was with her inherent compassion and the way her reassurance was not in the form of generic statements but instead woven into all of our interactions. She was a huge bright spot in a very difficult situation and really showed me how powerful the impact of a great nurse can be. Thank you, Lilly.