My 75-year-old father was admitted to the hospital for what we believed was going to be a routine two-day EEG test due to some strange cognitive symptoms he had begun to demonstrate the previous four weeks. He ended up having to stay at the hospital while in a state of rapid cognitive and physical decline. Tests were conducted that we were going to have to wait weeks to get the result of, so in the meantime, my father was transferred to the inpatient rehabilitation facility on the 3rd floor of St. Anthony’s Hospital. This was a terrifying time for my family because what the neurology team suspected my father was suffering from was Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease (CJD), a rare and fatal brain disorder. It was only two days after our family learned that my father was suspected of having a fatal disorder with very little time left to live that he was transferred to the rehabilitation floor. Once there, we had so many questions about what was going on with my dad, what his symptoms meant, and how to help him. Immediately, we were greeted by the day nurse who would be overseeing my father’s care. Reece was personable, knowledgeable, kind, and extremely patient with my father. This was difficult to do as my father seemed to be losing function by the hour some days. It could take three people 30 minutes to stand him up and attempt to get him to the bathroom and back.

Every time Reece came in to assist my father, he was calm, encouraging, and demonstrated endless patience. We never felt like Reece was in a rush or had other places he wanted to be. When he was with us in the room, we felt like we were his priority even if he was supporting my dad or answering our questions for extended periods of time. One morning, I was visiting and Reece patiently sat with my dad and coaxed and assisted him in taking his pills even though it took well over ten minutes. He patiently worked with my dad to get him to do the things he needed to do, like drink liquids, even though every day my father was able to do less and less on his own and with assistance. As you can imagine, this was not typical for patients in a rehabilitation center who tend to improve marginally each day. Reece actively reached out to colleagues to ask if they had experience with Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease patients to better inform his care of my dad. One day, Reece even went on lunch late in order to answer my questions and share observations he had made about my father and the progression of his symptoms. We were immeasurably blessed that Reece worked a four day stretch and was my father’s day-nurse for the first four days he was in the rehabilitation facility. My father remained in the rehabilitation facility another two and a half days after that, and it just wasn’t the same.

Sadly, my father was transferred from the rehabilitation center to in-home hospice. His condition has continued to progress at a frighteningly deadly speed. I am just so grateful that four days, during what turned out to be the last month of my father’s life, were ones where Reece was looking after him. Reece brought comfort and peace to a terrible situation for our family, and I am forever grateful. Our experience would not have been the same without him.