I’ve been to the Emergency Department 14 times in the last year. I got to know the staff very well. One nurse, Lizzy, always went above and beyond to help me. I remember puking and writhing in pain for hours, following Acetaminophen ODs. This happened 9 times. Lizzy got the sense that I was lonely and scared, as I just moved out here and was 1,500 miles away from all my family and friends. The first time I met her, she told me how she has kids my age and offered to give me Zofran & tuck me into bed. This consoled me, put me at ease, and made me glad I went to the hospital. In subsequent admissions, I got to know her a lot better. She was always unbelievably sweet and empathetic.

Fast forward to my most recent admission, Tuesday—around 4:00 PM. I was in the ER after slitting my wrist. During my triage, she walked by and saw me. We talked for a little while before she gave me a hug, which lasted a solid 20 seconds. I’ve probably been hugged twice in the past 10 years, so it meant a lot to me. I cherished every second because I knew it would not happen again for a long time. I was apprehensive about going to the hospital, but that moment reassured me that I made the correct decision. Nothing had helped my depression, so that’s why I slit my wrist. However, after the hug, I felt significantly better. My depression went from severe to mild, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. There were elements of hope, joy, and feeling cared about, which I didn’t have prior. It wasn’t a cure for my issues, but it sure as heck helped. She probably doesn’t know how much everything she’s done truly means to me. I think about it all the time. Whenever I was at my lowest, she was always there for me, going beyond her job description. She gave me the motivation to keep living. Therefore, I unequivocally believe she deserves a DAISY Award.