November 2016
Martha
Sweet
,
RN
med/surg
Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center
Charleston
,
SC
United States
Martha cared for my mom during the last 12 hours of her life. I am a hospice nurse, and have dedicated my life to end of life care. I know what it takes and how hard it can be to provide comfort in the final vigil. Martha started her shift with us by closing the door to my mother's room and crying with us. My mom had been on the unit for 2 weeks prior to her death and although Martha had not cared for her directly, she interacted with her many times to start IV's etc. in the days before change in condition. She was alert and oriented just 18 hours before. Martha began her shift by crying with us because, she explained, she was shocked to find out she was unresponsive and actively dying. My mom had made an impression on her, with her wit and sense of humor and Martha acknowledged that her change in condition had an impact on her.
Some might say that nurses are not supposed to cry, but it showed us a great deal of compassion and humanity and was comforting to my aunt and me. She asked us what she liked to be called and we told her, as we began the worst 12 hours of our lives. Martha was phenomenal. She did just enough, not too much and not too little, to ensure my mom's continuous comfort. She let me decide when to turn her, allowed me to participate in her personal care and offered morphine and Ativan all day, to manage her symptoms. She checked in on our family all day long. She responded quickly when we thought my mom was the slightest bit uncomfortable. She talked to my unresponsive mother with every interaction, telling her what she was doing and why. "I am here with some medication to help you breathe easier." "We are going to bathe you and change your dressings."
When the end finally came, at the close of her shift, Martha was right there with us, giving comforting medication and talking mom through it. I can still hear her telling mom, "There is a beautiful sunset happening just outside your window. You will be seeing all of them from the other side, now." I can tell you in my 7 years as a hospice nurse, I have never encountered a more compassionate nurse. The situation unfolding before us was gruesome, but Martha kept her cool and gave us a beautiful metaphor to eventually replace the memory of this day. She gave us the gift of tender, personal and skillful nursing care. We will never forget her.
Some might say that nurses are not supposed to cry, but it showed us a great deal of compassion and humanity and was comforting to my aunt and me. She asked us what she liked to be called and we told her, as we began the worst 12 hours of our lives. Martha was phenomenal. She did just enough, not too much and not too little, to ensure my mom's continuous comfort. She let me decide when to turn her, allowed me to participate in her personal care and offered morphine and Ativan all day, to manage her symptoms. She checked in on our family all day long. She responded quickly when we thought my mom was the slightest bit uncomfortable. She talked to my unresponsive mother with every interaction, telling her what she was doing and why. "I am here with some medication to help you breathe easier." "We are going to bathe you and change your dressings."
When the end finally came, at the close of her shift, Martha was right there with us, giving comforting medication and talking mom through it. I can still hear her telling mom, "There is a beautiful sunset happening just outside your window. You will be seeing all of them from the other side, now." I can tell you in my 7 years as a hospice nurse, I have never encountered a more compassionate nurse. The situation unfolding before us was gruesome, but Martha kept her cool and gave us a beautiful metaphor to eventually replace the memory of this day. She gave us the gift of tender, personal and skillful nursing care. We will never forget her.