Ann was the nurse assigned to my dad when he was admitted to the ER with stroke-like symptoms. It was one of the most harrowing nights of our lives as we (impatiently) waited for the results of various scans and tests, unsure of what was going to happen.

One thing about my dad - he is my favorite guy in the whole world. That said, he is also an incredibly annoying patient. He won't sit still, he doesn't listen, he'll constantly complain about how he wants to go home. There were times where even I was frustrated with him. So many times a nurse would walk into the room to find him sitting on a chair as far away from his bed as possible because he hated the bed. Coaxing him back was no easy task either. One night he actually convinced a nurse to let him sleep on a bench by the window.

Ann had a lot to deal with when she got my dad (and my crazy protective family - my dad lives in a house with four females, so needless to say, he's the one we dote on). He's the errant child of the family, hands down. I think Dad must have asked to go to the bathroom or get up and walk around at least every 15 minutes. Each time, Ann patiently came into our room, unhooked all the wires and contraptions, and waited patiently while he did what he needed to do (basically distract himself). She checked in on us regularly, constantly asking us in addition to Dad if we were ok and needed anything. She showed such genuine concern for us, not just Dad, that we felt like she really did care about our wellbeing too. When we expressed concerns about any stats or anything about our dad, she listened and explained everything without ever getting frustrated. And when we waited for the doctor to give us the final word, she came in and tried to explain what was going on to a family full of business majors, which is no easy feat.

Ann was dealing with a lot the night Dad was admitted; we watched as a slew of nurses and doctors tried to save a patient in the room next door. Yet, even with all that on her mind, she did not forget our requests for certain reports and printouts, making sure we got them before we left the ER. No one could have faulted her and I certainly could have picked them up from Medical Records later - but she said she'd do it and she did.

When Dad was admitted to the main hospital, Ann printed out all his test reports for us and walked me through them so I could talk to his physician about them. She gave us each a hug as we left and told us to come say bye when Dad was finally discharged - he really wanted to too, and sent me downstairs to see if she was working that day (unfortunately for us, she wasn't). She made such an impression on us in such a short period of time. What I'll never forget is how Ann made such a potentially devastating experience bearable (which is more than I could have asked).

Ann was the first nurse Dad encountered in a long line of nurses as he was admitted, discharged, and readmitted. As I write this, Dad is going on his 6th day of his second hospital stay. Every single nurse we've encountered since the first day has been compared to Ann, and she still stands above the rest. I sincerely hope I never have to step foot in another hospital, but if I do, I hope there's a nurse like Ann there.