Thirty minutes before shift change today, I was getting a new patient on my assignment. I walked into the room and saw that Ryan had stepped in to take report from EMS and complete the patient's triage documentation. The patient, an 80-year-old woman who has been living with stage 4 esophageal cancer for the past 7 months, was talking with Ryan. She was thin and frail. He told her she looked great. She said, "I don't give my cancer power over me. I know that I am going to die eventually, but I am not going to give my cancer any more power than it deserves, or I will not be able to keep living." I started to help Ryan undress the patient when we discovered that the patient's ostomy bag had been torn off during transport to the ED and the smell was overpowering. The patient started to cry and said that she was so embarrassed. She had been told by her doctor to take four stool softeners earlier that day in preparation for a colonoscopy. Her stomach and legs were covered with feces. Ryan smiled and told the patient that she was going to be alright, that it wasn't "any little thing." He grabbed a basin and began to wash the patient, constantly reassuring her that she was just fine, that he would make her clean and dry and comfortable, and that she did not need to be embarrassed, she had simply done what her doctor had told her to do, and that he would get a new ostomy bag for the patient in no time. 

As I assisted Ryan, I observed that he did not put on a mask to protect himself from the smell, rather, he was smiling the entire time, reassuring, and comforting a patient who was in miserable discomfort. He refused to allow the patient to feel humiliation or shame with his constant reassurance of her dignity and worth. When he covered the patient up in a clean gown and warm blankets, he told the patient that it was a pleasure to meet her, and the patient smiled. 

Ryan's caring attitude transformed a discouraging situation into a moment of encouragement and comfort for a patient who desperately needed it.