I had just received confirmation that I have stage 3 pancreatic cancer. Shift change, Strider comes in, introduces himself and all the while keeping eye contact with me. He looks exactly like I imagined the grandson given up for adoption looks, but he's too young. He doesn't flinch at the "crazy" old lady. Instead, he listened to the story and held my hand through the first real tears I have shed in years. He continued to care for me expertly and with dignity all night and the next even though I wasn't his patient. He kept checking on me since he knew I was vulnerable and scared.