My husband was a patient. He had lung cancer; he got to live seven weeks after his diagnosis. He was 54; too young and too quick but I believe with all my heart I would not have had him that long if it wasn't for Dr. D and St. Thomas Hospital six out of the seven weeks he was hospitalized.
My husband was a huge cyclist. I brought his bike in and put it in his window and look at it and dream of the day to ride again. There was on "Angel" God sent to take care of him. Tammy goes by the name "Big Country." She did not treat him like he was sick and dying. She would come in and ask what's going on what you been doing. As if the two old friends catching up on life. She would just past the time; she could get him to laugh and he could make her laugh. She could get him to talk about anything he loved and wanted to do next in life. This is while she was doing her nursing duties.
He had a lot of horrible things he had to endure. He would ask, "Can we wait until Country gets here to do that?" She treated him like a beloved brother. Family is the word. Six weeks is a long time to be in the hospital, but his face would light up when he saw her. As the wife that's been left behind almost 9 years still, I think about her often. When life was unbearable that light of sunshine that she brought was priceless. Please let her know how extremally grateful I am.