Our patient had been placed in a corner room on the PCCU. His bed faced a full wall of windows looking east out over the city. He had light- lots of it, he had the sun and he had a room with a view. What is important about this, you may ask? Our patient was dying. There was not going to be a rally or improvement for him, this was the end of his road.

Susan had met some of his family earlier in his stay. Her initial impression was a good one- as Susan's is: professional, decent, charming and she's funny. Which is just the right thing to have when everything and everyone around you is gloomy. Susan was there, present and keeping vigil with her patient's sister on what was to be the last day of his life. She told her about meeting him and his friends and how he had kept her laughing for a good half an hour. This allowed the sister to laugh along and reminisce about her brother and know that he had impacted us and was not just another patient. They also discussed of all things- Michigan real estate and as his sister was a nurse herself, gifted with the darkly comic sense of humor that is our profession, led to a discussion of their own end of life wishes and more laughter and sharing. It is not my intent to diminish the power of the moment, but to show what grace and kindness this brought to those last minutes. She was there with her when the telemetry monitor blinked and the tell tale lines showed an infarction.

The family was left to grieve in privacy after his peaceful passing. I saw them again some time later. His brother asked me to please ask Susan to return to the room as he wanted to see her before she left. I paged Susan and she was back to the unit in minutes. Again, her grace shone through.

Back to the window. The patient was dying in the PCCU. Our census was low...Susan was the case manager for the patient, she could have had the patient shifted to the general medical floor with the click of a mouse and may have been urged here and there to do so. She did not. She knew the family loved the room, she knew the patient was at the end of his life. She supported the patient and family remaining in their room. What for some may percieve as a small act of kindness was for this family and patient a monumental one. The family said over and over again, how much they loved the room, loved that their loved one had sunshine and liked the room too. Previously, discharge options began to be discussed and are discussed given our setting, the patient had indicated that he'd really like to stay where he was. And he did thanks to Susan and assorted PCCU staff. The family could not say enough positive things about the care they had received here and their experience here at Illinois Masonic.

For Susan's extraordinary grace and compassion I nominate her to be recognized with the DAISY Award, she is a role model for our profession and an asset to our institution.