My uncle came to your ED, needing stitches above his left eye after falling and hitting his head on a dresser. L has cerebral palsy and lives at an assisted living facility. No one from the facility was able to accompany L in the ambulance or in your ED. Developmentally, my uncle is about 3 years old - and he is the kindest, most genuine person I've ever had the good fortune of knowing. Since the death of his father, L has found comfort in 3 things - his family and friends, prayer, and his stuffed bear. Understandably, L was quite scared coming to your ED by himself. He was worried he was going to die - and said as much to multiple people. And he was alone, something that he does poorly with, especially in stressful situations. The entire situation seemed to be a perfect set up for L to have a very traumatic experience. Enter your ED staff. I'm a physician, I know how busy and burdened ED staff can be, and I know how overwhelming the experience can be for patients. I was admittedly shocked when my mother told me about L's experience with you all the next day.

Like I said, it could have been terrible, and in no way it was your fault. And yet it wasn't - it was one of the most heartwarming stories I've ever heard, and I will forever hold a special place in my heart for you all. L was scared when he arrived. He was praying, one of the 3 things he finds comfort in. But he was alone, in pain, and had no one to guide him through the process. And then one of your nurses, Hope, told L that she would stay with him until his brother arrived. And she did - she sat with him, talked with him, prayed with him, and kept him calm and comfortable until his brother arrived. I'm sure she had a thousand other things to do - but it all went on hold for L. She became the second thing he finds comfort in - a friend. After his family arrived and L needed stitches, he expressed his fear again and said that he wished he had the third thing he finds comfort in - his teddy bear. Hope says, "I'll be right back," and shows up 5 minutes later with a teddy bear. In an ED, at an adult hospital, I don't know where she found this, bought it, or from whom she borrowed it, but it meant the world to L to have the third and final thing that comforts him most in the world.

Hope would have had no way to know how meaningful these gifts were to L, and he couldn't have told her - so I felt I needed to write this to ensure that she knew. To say that Hope's actions were commendable is an understatement, and to say that it's "part of her job" is just untrue. Hope was truly a hero that day. They could have practiced excellent medicine, and L could still have had a traumatic experience. Instead, they bent over backward to protect him from what, in his mind, could have been another trauma. Hope showed a rare act of humanism toward one of the most vulnerable members of our society and acted with love and compassion toward someone who needed her desperately but wouldn't have been able to tell anyone that. Hearing this story, I am proud to work in medicine - I went to work the next day and was motivated to give my own patients better care. Kindness causes ripples, and Hope, those you created were felt hundreds of miles away. I cannot express in words how thankful my entire family is for the multiple acts of compassion, kindness, and love that you showed my Uncle L that day. You deserve this award and so much more. You are a blessing to your patients, and I hope you know how much good you brought into the world that day, and I'm sure you bring every other day as well. Thank you sincerely for all you do. The world is lucky to have you.