Nursing is a tough profession. I should know, as a childhood cancer survivor, current physician, and recent parent of a PICU baby, I have interacted with thousands of nurses personally and professionally. With this background, it is so glaringly obvious that Jason Taus is the most exceptional nurse I have encountered that others must know, and many should learn from him.  
Our infant was in the Lurie Children’s PICU for 7 nights after an out-of-hospital cardiac arrest. As a physician, I knew the expected dismal outcomes and as a father, I was filled with a deep sense of dread and hopelessness. When we arrived, Jason was ready to not only care for our critically ill infant but also me and my wife, who happens to be an inpatient pharmacist, for the next several days. The patient would be a challenge medically, and we, the parents, were extremely detailed. He certainly had his work cut out for him.  

Jason’s daily 12-hour shifts must have been grueling, but he did not show any sign of fatigue. Our baby was on a 96-hour cooling protocol with extreme neuroprotection expected. Jason managed multiple peripheral IVs, an arterial line, a central line, an Arctic Sun cooling machine, a nasogastric tube, an endotracheal tube, transcranial dopplers, EEGs, and a Foley catheter with the strictest of infection precautions and a keen eye for subtle changes to keep our infant stable during this critical window. He managed serial ABGs, vitals, IV pushes of various medications, tube feeds and several continuous infusions that were titrated precisely. My wife was impressed with his large knowledge base and collegial relationship with the PICU pharmacy team. Our infant’s case allowed Jason to showcase his wide range of nursing skills and alone should be enough for him to be honored with a DAISY Award. But technical skills only represent part of the story.  

The humanistic side of medicine simply cannot be taught. Sure, we can teach people what to say during a crisis and train almost anyone to deliver bad news. But after the “script” ends and the conversation continues, it is easy to decipher between genuine and learned compassion. Jason’s hands were full enough with the critical care of our infant that he easily could have offered my wife and me water and called it a day. However, he stayed in the room with us long after his checklists were complete. He knew this was the darkest time of our lives, and yet he waded through the discomfort with us and naturally helped us process the nightmare we were living. He approached us with gentle kindness and the slightest humor mixed in to help boost our spirits. I will never forget the first time my wife and I felt comfortable enough to leave the room together to go on a five-minute walk. Jason looked us in the eye and nodded as said, “she will be cared for as if she was my own, you can take a break” and we knew with certainty he would do as he said, because that is how he treated our baby all along. His natural compassion comes from deep within and plainly cannot be learned.  

This combination of indefatigable technical ability with a personal touch is extremely rare and should be celebrated. Jason is a natural leader, expert communicator, and compassionate human. He made a lasting imprint on our family, and words will never completely capture our gratitude. Ultimately, I cannot think of any nurse I have encountered during my personal and professional life more deserving of this award than Jason.