February 2013
Kathy
Monahan
,
RN
Med/Surg
Mercy Medical Center
Clinton
,
IA
United States
A busy Monday morning, and Kathy would be next to take a new patient the enviable position of "bed ahead RN". The mornings are hectic with demands of shift handoff report, med pass and initial assessments and concerned families pulling each RN in a hundred different directions.
The call came - a transfer from CCU, a patient whose procedure has resulted in many complications one after another until she says "no more". The ventilator is stopped and a new course of events will begin to unfold as respiratory failure overtakes her body. She comes to the Med/Surg unit - a transfer for end of life care and the end is close. She is accompanied by her sister and a clear plastic bag of belongings. For Kathy, everything stops and this small wisp of a woman and her sister become her complete and total focus, not 4 other patients, not meds pass, not physicians, not phone calls, just a small family that is breaking apart.
Her sister retrieves for Kathy a worn envelope written in better days, her last wishes, "Do not open until I'm gone" scrawled in faded ink across the face and beneath in thick bold underlined letters a warning - no preachers and no prayers!
Resources that might support families (and staff) in other end of life situations are now not for consideration and yet what transforms is a very spiritual caring and support of her patient and her sister. It is important for Kathy to get to know the patient's sister as well as about the patient in this snapshot of time, and she is both graceful and skilled at this conversation. She does not leave their side.
The end comes quietly, a scenario that Kathy has shared and guided many other families through the years, and her expertise makes her actions seem effortless. For 2 sisters who have shared a lifetime, for a patient who's final request is no preachers, Kathy's presence and comfort is the essence of the spirit and humanity that connects us all. The clear plastic bag of belongings now changes hands. A strong embrace and a clasp of hands convey what words cannot. It has been 41 minutes in total from beginning to end and yet the extraordinary kindness and compassion Kathy showed still provides comfort today.
The call came - a transfer from CCU, a patient whose procedure has resulted in many complications one after another until she says "no more". The ventilator is stopped and a new course of events will begin to unfold as respiratory failure overtakes her body. She comes to the Med/Surg unit - a transfer for end of life care and the end is close. She is accompanied by her sister and a clear plastic bag of belongings. For Kathy, everything stops and this small wisp of a woman and her sister become her complete and total focus, not 4 other patients, not meds pass, not physicians, not phone calls, just a small family that is breaking apart.
Her sister retrieves for Kathy a worn envelope written in better days, her last wishes, "Do not open until I'm gone" scrawled in faded ink across the face and beneath in thick bold underlined letters a warning - no preachers and no prayers!
Resources that might support families (and staff) in other end of life situations are now not for consideration and yet what transforms is a very spiritual caring and support of her patient and her sister. It is important for Kathy to get to know the patient's sister as well as about the patient in this snapshot of time, and she is both graceful and skilled at this conversation. She does not leave their side.
The end comes quietly, a scenario that Kathy has shared and guided many other families through the years, and her expertise makes her actions seem effortless. For 2 sisters who have shared a lifetime, for a patient who's final request is no preachers, Kathy's presence and comfort is the essence of the spirit and humanity that connects us all. The clear plastic bag of belongings now changes hands. A strong embrace and a clasp of hands convey what words cannot. It has been 41 minutes in total from beginning to end and yet the extraordinary kindness and compassion Kathy showed still provides comfort today.