July 2018
Nicole
Markowski
,
RN
Transplant Intensive Care Unit
Froedtert & Medical College of Wisconsin - Froedtert Hospital
Milwaukee
,
WI
United States
Nicole Markowski truly embodies the values of Clinical Skill, Compassionate Care, Exemplary Service and a Commitment to Excellence, and I'd like to take a few minutes to share some examples below.
I came into the Froedtert ER in pretty dire straits. I'd spent the last 6 months ill and while I knew my liver was in critical condition I don't think that my wife and I realized how close to the end we really were. I went from the ER to the hospital to the Transplant ICU in just a few days, and by the time we met Nicole I was badly ill and not altogether with it.
Until we got to the ICU we'd had a lot of questions but very few answers, and most of the answers we did get were very vague. We heard a lot of, "Well, we'll have to see in a few days," or, "We're doing what we can, we just need to wait and see how he responds." This certainly wasn't very comforting to my wife, even though it probably was 100% accurate.
All that changed quickly when we met Nicole. She told my wife she'd be with me when she could be, and as things tumbled toward a transplant she said she'd be running the dialysis machine while I was in surgery. Knowing that I wasn't going in alone meant everything to my wife and family, and when she came out after surgery to say goodbye I know there were tears. I know this because my family talks about it every time I'm at a function and because when I talk about Nicole everyone always knows exactly who I mean despite never having met her. She's woven into the fabric of my life in ways that medical professionals rarely are. Knowing that they could rely on her Clinical Skill to keep me safe helped them sleep a little bit for the first time in a long time.
When my wife needed to know how I was in the middle of the day or night she mainly spoke with two nurses, and Nicole was one. If she was too busy at that moment she'd call my wife back, and that sort of compassion and reliability isn't common among anyone, let alone busy medical personnel who always have another nurse call to answer. The fact that it's simply one compassionate act out of hundreds speaks volumes about the type of person Nicole is, both personally and professionally.
When I came to after the surgery the first person I recognized in the ICU was Nicole, though I couldn't have explained why. She told me she'd been my nurse for weeks at that point and I made a joke about my semi-nude state being pretty awkward and, at that moment, we forged a partnership that continues to this day. While my family got to know her well during the weeks after surgery, I have a very limited memory of that entire time, and my personal relationship with Nicole really starts there.
When I was too sick or out of my mind to talk to my wife during visits, Nicole would calm her down by explaining this was part of the process, and that things would get better. When I was more with it but hallucinating amazing things, Nicole again explained to my wife that things wouldn't stay this way and gave my wife piece of mind that she wouldn't be taking home a half-crazed man, or at least not more crazed than I'd been when I arrived.
Nicole probably doesn't know this, but even after I left the ICU she remained a critical part of my recovery. She'd come to see me during her lunch occasionally, and she was able to help me see progress where I felt only pain and stagnation. When I took my first steps 6 weeks after I left the ICU I was excited for my wife, my mom, and Nicole to find out - in that order. I knew that Nicole wouldn't have settled for anything but her best effort to keep me alive, and in some limited way, I wanted to recognize that commitment to excellence by doing the best I could, even when it really sucked.
I was in the hospital several more times and each time I was in Nicole would visit. I grew to look forward to these visits - I resented being back in the hospital, but if I was going at least I could catch up with a friend. Every time I saw her she asked me about my wife, my son, my progress returning to normal, etc. But the remainder of those visits was spent addressing my fears - would I ever be normal again? Would I be in and out of the hospital for the rest of my life? Would I ever feel like I earned the incredible sacrifice that was made for me to live?
Nicole answered these questions by relating tales of previous patient's successes and stumbles and allowed me to see that I wasn't the only one that had ever had these feelings and that things would be okay. In my eyes, this is exemplary friendship and exemplary service, far beyond any sort of commitment I'd expect from any medical professional.
They say you can't pick your family, but you can pick your friends. That's true, but sometimes someone comes into your life that makes such an impact that calling them a friend isn't an accurate reflection of their place in your life. I know that my wife and I consider Nicole family, and but I'm still not sure that reflects how important she is. I think a DAISY Award would fit that particular niche quite nicely, and I'm happy to nominate Nicole for it.
Note: This is Nicole's 2nd DAISY Award!
I came into the Froedtert ER in pretty dire straits. I'd spent the last 6 months ill and while I knew my liver was in critical condition I don't think that my wife and I realized how close to the end we really were. I went from the ER to the hospital to the Transplant ICU in just a few days, and by the time we met Nicole I was badly ill and not altogether with it.
Until we got to the ICU we'd had a lot of questions but very few answers, and most of the answers we did get were very vague. We heard a lot of, "Well, we'll have to see in a few days," or, "We're doing what we can, we just need to wait and see how he responds." This certainly wasn't very comforting to my wife, even though it probably was 100% accurate.
All that changed quickly when we met Nicole. She told my wife she'd be with me when she could be, and as things tumbled toward a transplant she said she'd be running the dialysis machine while I was in surgery. Knowing that I wasn't going in alone meant everything to my wife and family, and when she came out after surgery to say goodbye I know there were tears. I know this because my family talks about it every time I'm at a function and because when I talk about Nicole everyone always knows exactly who I mean despite never having met her. She's woven into the fabric of my life in ways that medical professionals rarely are. Knowing that they could rely on her Clinical Skill to keep me safe helped them sleep a little bit for the first time in a long time.
When my wife needed to know how I was in the middle of the day or night she mainly spoke with two nurses, and Nicole was one. If she was too busy at that moment she'd call my wife back, and that sort of compassion and reliability isn't common among anyone, let alone busy medical personnel who always have another nurse call to answer. The fact that it's simply one compassionate act out of hundreds speaks volumes about the type of person Nicole is, both personally and professionally.
When I came to after the surgery the first person I recognized in the ICU was Nicole, though I couldn't have explained why. She told me she'd been my nurse for weeks at that point and I made a joke about my semi-nude state being pretty awkward and, at that moment, we forged a partnership that continues to this day. While my family got to know her well during the weeks after surgery, I have a very limited memory of that entire time, and my personal relationship with Nicole really starts there.
When I was too sick or out of my mind to talk to my wife during visits, Nicole would calm her down by explaining this was part of the process, and that things would get better. When I was more with it but hallucinating amazing things, Nicole again explained to my wife that things wouldn't stay this way and gave my wife piece of mind that she wouldn't be taking home a half-crazed man, or at least not more crazed than I'd been when I arrived.
Nicole probably doesn't know this, but even after I left the ICU she remained a critical part of my recovery. She'd come to see me during her lunch occasionally, and she was able to help me see progress where I felt only pain and stagnation. When I took my first steps 6 weeks after I left the ICU I was excited for my wife, my mom, and Nicole to find out - in that order. I knew that Nicole wouldn't have settled for anything but her best effort to keep me alive, and in some limited way, I wanted to recognize that commitment to excellence by doing the best I could, even when it really sucked.
I was in the hospital several more times and each time I was in Nicole would visit. I grew to look forward to these visits - I resented being back in the hospital, but if I was going at least I could catch up with a friend. Every time I saw her she asked me about my wife, my son, my progress returning to normal, etc. But the remainder of those visits was spent addressing my fears - would I ever be normal again? Would I be in and out of the hospital for the rest of my life? Would I ever feel like I earned the incredible sacrifice that was made for me to live?
Nicole answered these questions by relating tales of previous patient's successes and stumbles and allowed me to see that I wasn't the only one that had ever had these feelings and that things would be okay. In my eyes, this is exemplary friendship and exemplary service, far beyond any sort of commitment I'd expect from any medical professional.
They say you can't pick your family, but you can pick your friends. That's true, but sometimes someone comes into your life that makes such an impact that calling them a friend isn't an accurate reflection of their place in your life. I know that my wife and I consider Nicole family, and but I'm still not sure that reflects how important she is. I think a DAISY Award would fit that particular niche quite nicely, and I'm happy to nominate Nicole for it.
Note: This is Nicole's 2nd DAISY Award!