I’m writing this because chances are that I will never see you again. I have a strong desire to communicate to you and so, I write this and will publish it out into the universe in the hopes you’ll see it and read it. It’s the best I can do under the circumstances.
I do not have your last name and only a few identifying details. I was a patient at Mercy Hospital in Fort Smith, Arkansas and you were my nurse during my inpatient stay. It was the overnight shift of the 19th into the 20th of July, 2015... On the 4th floor general surgery wing. You told me you’re a traveling nurse—one who takes nursing jobs across the country because you have a child with special needs (like mine) and the income is more if you travel. You’re married. You call Nashville home. You have short, dark hair. A little gray at the temples. You are trim (Fit? Athletic build?). You seemed tall but I’m a short person so… may be of average height. I share these details only so I don’t forget them and so that you can recognize yourself. I want to thank you. From the deepest part of me. In general, I have come into contact with many nurses. Some I call friends. I was a patient to some. And I’ve met some fantastic nurses. Nurses who do their job, in kind, caring, and professional ways before. But dude. That night had me in tears I was in so much pain. From top to bottom. When EMS was called to my house, I felt like I was hanging on to my life. Holding a tiny thread. I was scared. I was scared my kids would be without their mother by the week’s end.
The night you were my nurse was actually my second, and last, night in hospital. You had told me the chances were I’d be in hospital a few days more. Who knows but I choose to believe that you helped heal me faster. *soft smile*… You were SO kind. So caring. So gentle. I cannot find words to express the tenderness you showed. The understanding in your eyes when I expressed fear for my children. Who would raise them if I’m gone? No one can do it better than me. I didn’t give full voice to that thought but you showed you understood perfectly.
With doctor’s orders, you helped take my pain away but it seemed to me that it was more than just the pain medication. I don’t know how to describe exactly what I mean because even now details are fuzzy. Remembering details has not been a strong suit of mine ever since a car accident I had on December 31, 1996. By the by, the man who hit the car I was in, head-on, was named Bill. He showed the same caring, kind, gentleness when he was blowing on my face to get the glass off of my eyes. My fantastical mindset wants to insist you’re the same man. What are the chances? Coincidence, I’m sure. But my writer’s mind wants to believe you’re the same man.
I am home now. Feeling better. It is because of you, and the other staff, at that Hospital. I just feel you were above exceptional in your care of me. You showed the same towards the other patients. Courtesy to your fellow co-workers. Respectful. You, Sir, are a wonderful human being and I just wanted you to know—someone noticed. It helped someone. It healed someone. Thank you is just not an adequate enough statement to express the gratitude I have. I wish for you many blessings in your future. You deserve them all. I think your wife and daughter should know what type of man their husband and father.
and these are my words….