When I got the call from family that my grandmother had a stroke I was devastated. I quickly packed up, and my mother and I drove down to St. Petersburg immediately. As a nurse, I know that a stroke at my grandmother's age of 92, and with her co-morbidities, that the outcome was likely not good, furthermore I knew my grandmother's wishes, her voice echoing in my head, "when it's my time, let me go". Seeing my once vibrant and feisty grandmother struggling to lift her hand enough to hold mine was soul-crushing, and the granddaughter in me wanted to curl into a little ball, cry my eyes out and never let go while the nurse in me reminded me that my grandmother would not want that, not for one minute. My grandmother was admitted to the progressive care neuro floor.
One nurse who cared for my grandmother, during her short stay, gave my grandmother and me a gift for which I am forever grateful and can never fully repay. The gift of time, privacy, understanding, and support which our family needed far more than any other practical intervention possible. Megan heard me when I told her I felt like I needed to help, she allowed me to help her turn my grandmother, to position her, to make her comfortable. She shared with me her experiences from both sides of the line, as nurse and family member. This dichotomous role of family member and nurse that I have been fortunate to not occupy until this time was so very uncomfortable, and yet Megan cared for my grandmother as she would her own seamlessly beside my family and me, as we grieved the loss of our normal. I deal in extremes in my work as a pediatric critical care nurse, and supporting families and guiding through unimaginable loss and pain but this was so incredibly different... this is my loss, this is my family's loss, my helplessness washing over me in tremendous waves and somehow Megan calmed this. She let me do what I needed to do to cope and to care for my grandmother. Megan allowed my family to not feel helpless or hopeless in a situation which easily could have resulted in both. She was humble and skilled and truly saw my grandmother, me and my family not as problems to be fixed but as people who were hurting. She gave us time, respected the process, was present, listened, and cared. When my family decided hospice care was the right choice for my grandmother in adherence with her wishes, Megan worked tirelessly to ensure my grandmother was moved to the comfort and privacy of hospice care as quickly as possible.
I know her side of the line, I know about all the boxes to check, the reasons for interventions, and how sometimes as nurses to preserve ourselves we have to stay distant. But not Megan, it must have hurt beyond words to connect with my family, and to connect with me, as another nurse, as she has been, and will be again in my place. She didn't run and hide behind the computer, or the doctor, she didn't insist on taking charge or lecture any of us on how to feel. She gave me time to be who I needed to be, she gave my family the support they needed to feel, and she gave me grandmother the care and dignity she deserved.