butterflies in my stomach, but an excitement I couldn’t explain, I arrived at
the hospital for my first clinical experience. "Ann," the patient I was assigned to, was diagnosed with a subdural hematoma related to a fall, and although she had been healthy before the accident, her condition was rapidly declining. I went in and sat with Ann’s daughter, who was praying for a miracle. I listened, comforted and
listened some more. I assured her that I
would do whatever I could to assist her mother with her recovery. Unknown to anyone at the time, a miracle was
just what was in store.
You see, Ann
was unable to verbally communicate and her nonverbal communication was very
limited. She was unable to swallow and
frequently her breathing became labored.
She was practically comatose, but internally something kept telling me
to talk to her as if she could hear me, could communicate and was able to
respond. I accompanied her to
procedures, talking to her, holding her hand, gently touching her forehead, assuring her I was with her and would not leave her side the
entire time. Ann responded by squeezing
my hand and was that a smile, however small?
I just knew she felt my presence and I was glad I was there with
her. For the remainder of the day
following the procedure, she was very sleepy.
I only disturbed her rest to take vitals and provide medications.
On my last day
with Ann, the doctor was in with her when I arrived. He was holding her hand and Ann was
responding. Verbally responding. He
asked her if she believed in Jesus and she said yes. He said there was no medical explanation for
her recovery and that she was what they referred to as a miracle. I was tearing up in the back of the room. WOW, I was able to witness a miracle! What an honor, privilege, unforgettable,
indescribable and humbling experience.
What a reaffirmation of the decision to go into nursing, making the
sacrifices and leaps of faith more than worth it.