Cheryl's Story

One of the main reasons I became a nurse in the first place was the OB nurse who worked the 3-11 shift at the hospital where I gave birth to my third child over 26 years ago. This woman was my angel in every sense of the word during the entire hospitalization, which lasted much longer than usual because I first got a horrific spinal headache, then went septic the night after my C-section.

I never did know why she thought I was special, but each night she would come in toward the end of her shift, warm some lotion in her hands, and do an old-fashioned back rub for upwards of 15-20 minutes. This was after she had given me a bed bath, brushed out my long hair and changed my linens, administered pain meds, and hung my IV antibiotic. She told me she knew what spinal headaches felt like and she also felt bad for me because I was so ill. But her caring went above and beyond anything I'd ever experienced since my grandmother---also a nurse passed away in 1972. Everything she did for me was done with tenderness as if I were a treasured child instead of her patient; and despite all the pain and confusion and fear, her calm presence reassured me that I wasn't going to die, even though I was terrified I might, and no one could promise me I wouldn't.

Though I never saw her again after I finally got well enough to go home, she has walked the corridors with me during many of my own long, hard shifts over the years. Sometimes, it seems as though she is ministering to my patients, through my hands, whenever I hold a sobbing elderly woman and help her to deal with her first day in assisted living......gently soak off an old dressing rather than pull it from fragile skin.......or close the eyes of a resident who just breathed his last breath.

Jenn's note: thank you Cheryl! such a beautiful story!

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