I walked into the room with sun rays beaming through the window, illuminating an empty space where her bed used to be. Her light, her smiles, her eyes full of pain when she spoke of her 11-year-old son, her shy giggles when she soiled her bed again, her genuine "thank you" for all we did for her. She was not there anymore. She had an abdominal aneurysm the day she was supposed to be discharged home, but she turned for the worst. She was intubated after a massive blood transfusion and taken to ICU. She had an abdominal aneurysm and did not survive this critical condition, despite extensive interventions.

I remember when the crisis nurses were rolling her bed to the ICU, I held her hand and saw the "smile" bracelet Megan gave her. (Background: our unit gives out a "caring pouch" with a candle, tea, chocolate, essential oil, and a bracelet to a nurse whose patient has passed away, transferred to ICU, or undergone a "code blue" situation.) Megan took the bracelet from her bag and put it on her patient's wrist. The patient smiled as she left our unit. Megan did so much more than that for her patient.

The patient went through intense dressing changes due to radiation wounds which, combined with incontinence, burned through her skin and caused tremendous pain. Her pain was not controlled despite aggressive changes in her pain regimen. Megan advocated for yet another change; something others had not seen. She advocated for a comprehensive pain regimen that included a healing environment. She sat down with the patient and found out she wanted to see the sun, the sky, and the trees and breathe fresh air. It took 2 transporters, a nurse assistant, an assistant patient care manager, and Megan herself to get the patient to the third-floor gardens. She wanted to see the sun before she died, and Megan made her wish happen.

The patient’s condition started to improve drastically. Megan asked for her favorite song and played it with every dressing change. Everyone who came in to bring extra supplies had to dance, which made everyone smile and giggle. Soon, she did not need pain medications with dressing changes. The wounds were healing; she started walking and was ready to be discharged home to spend Christmas with her family when an aneurysm occurred and took her from us. Megan became the beautiful light at the end of the patient’s life and truly created a difference during her hospital stay. Megan also made a long-lasting impact on all her co-workers. Megan represents compassion, love, and care in addressing the needs of a patient in a creative, unique manner by seeing the person, the soul behind the gown.