Michael Cox
August 2025
Michael
Cox
,
RN
Medical Progressive Care Unit
The Johns Hopkins Hospital
Baltimore
,
MD
United States
Mike is clearly gifted in both the art and the science of not just medicine, but true healing.
Mike Cox was nothing short of an absolute hero to our family. My dear lifelong friend, G (he was a grandfather to me in everything but legal terms), was in the hospital with a collapsed lung. When he was admitted, we were still hopeful that he would be leaving the hospital and returning to the assisted living facility.
As things progressed, it became more and more clear that his options were either a fairly risky surgery with limited potential for improved quality of life, or making a very hard decision to discontinue supportive treatments and transition to keeping him comfortable while slowly removing him from the machines that were keeping him alive.
At the age of 94, G knew exactly what he wanted the rest of his life, and his final moments, to be like: comfortable. He was at peace. We, however, were in the early stages of true mourning, and as his POA, I was on deck for making some very hard calls, even though he had been clear with his wishes.
Mike came in the day G made his decision. He started by getting to know him and us as people. He asked us questions to really understand us and made sure we knew every resource that was available to us at the hospital, every step of the way.
He helped us advocate for him with his doctors and medical team, clearly and skillfully walked us through our medical options, and helped us navigate our incredibly difficult decisions with grace, humor, and kindness.
He distracted us with conversation when we needed a reprieve from sadness, telling us stories about his own life and nursing experiences with genuine empathy. Through the most tactful and gentle jokes, he helped us to smile and laugh between the tears. He made us feel so cared for and even gave me a big hug and a shoulder when I couldn’t do anything but cry.
Towards the end, while tending to all his other patients and duties, knowing what was coming, he stationed himself in a chair and make-shift workstation outside G's room so he could be as present as possible to help us whenever we had questions, or whenever we needed him, so we didn’t have to go find him.
He prepared us for what to expect each step of the way and monitored G closely, letting us know (without us asking) where we were in the process, tactfully balancing giving us room and privacy to process and ensuring we always knew what was happening.
He counseled us with thoughtful, beautiful advice on what to say to G as he slowly passed away. I cannot imagine what we would have done without Mike.
I have spent a lot of time in hospitals this year and prior, and I truly have never experienced care that was this extraordinary. Mike is clearly gifted in both the art and the science of not just medicine, but true healing.
Not only was Mike a comfort and guide to G, the patient, but Mike’s compassion and dedication to us, G’s family, healed our spirits and hearts as well.
As things progressed, it became more and more clear that his options were either a fairly risky surgery with limited potential for improved quality of life, or making a very hard decision to discontinue supportive treatments and transition to keeping him comfortable while slowly removing him from the machines that were keeping him alive.
At the age of 94, G knew exactly what he wanted the rest of his life, and his final moments, to be like: comfortable. He was at peace. We, however, were in the early stages of true mourning, and as his POA, I was on deck for making some very hard calls, even though he had been clear with his wishes.
Mike came in the day G made his decision. He started by getting to know him and us as people. He asked us questions to really understand us and made sure we knew every resource that was available to us at the hospital, every step of the way.
He helped us advocate for him with his doctors and medical team, clearly and skillfully walked us through our medical options, and helped us navigate our incredibly difficult decisions with grace, humor, and kindness.
He distracted us with conversation when we needed a reprieve from sadness, telling us stories about his own life and nursing experiences with genuine empathy. Through the most tactful and gentle jokes, he helped us to smile and laugh between the tears. He made us feel so cared for and even gave me a big hug and a shoulder when I couldn’t do anything but cry.
Towards the end, while tending to all his other patients and duties, knowing what was coming, he stationed himself in a chair and make-shift workstation outside G's room so he could be as present as possible to help us whenever we had questions, or whenever we needed him, so we didn’t have to go find him.
He prepared us for what to expect each step of the way and monitored G closely, letting us know (without us asking) where we were in the process, tactfully balancing giving us room and privacy to process and ensuring we always knew what was happening.
He counseled us with thoughtful, beautiful advice on what to say to G as he slowly passed away. I cannot imagine what we would have done without Mike.
I have spent a lot of time in hospitals this year and prior, and I truly have never experienced care that was this extraordinary. Mike is clearly gifted in both the art and the science of not just medicine, but true healing.
Not only was Mike a comfort and guide to G, the patient, but Mike’s compassion and dedication to us, G’s family, healed our spirits and hearts as well.