I am writing this, weeks after it happened because it has been a tough time in my family’s life since our stay at Missouri Baptist.  My father went into the hospital on a Friday night and was diagnosed with the flu and aspiration pneumonia.  He was a 97-year-old man, a spry one, but too weak to fight this latest sickness.  We knew pretty quickly that this was looking like end of life. I am a critical care nurse myself and as one, have expectations of course, on how we should treat a dying man and how we should treat their family.  My expectations were not exactly met that weekend, but Monday morning an angel came in to care for dad.

Rebecca treated him with respect, laughed with him, bathed him, turned him, did oral care, and allowed us to come in to have moments that I will remember for the rest of my life, even with the covid restrictions, she found a way.  She even moved us to a bigger room to accommodate our family.  

My dad just loved her in those couple of days.  On day two of caring for him, she thought things seemed like they were taking a turn and called us all to come in asap.  When I showed up to the room, Rebecca was sitting at my dad’s bedside holding his hand.  That touched me in such a special way.  She thought it may be the end for him and wasn’t about to let him be alone.  
That is above and beyond a “job” that is living out our calling to care for and love our fellow human beings.  To have her as his nurse in those few days was a blessing and one, I will never forget.

Thank you, Rebecca, for seeing a 97-year-old man not just as a dying man you weren’t going to code, but as a man.