Short and Sweet

I got a patient from the cath lab yesterday. He was borderline unstable... like his heart was peaking over the edge of a cliff and deciding if it was daring enough to jump. His heart rhythm changed often with correlating blood pressure changes, and the poor guy could feel every bit of it. Although he was just starting to really wake up from the sedation given during the procedure, his family was very aware of all that happened during the procedure (arrhythmias, defibrillations, multiple medications, and the poor prognosis found). I explained to him all that happened in the procedure area, concluding with "But you could not have been in a more appropriate place for your heart to these kinds of issues-- you had the right doctors and nurses literally standing over you, knowing exactly what to do and how to fix it. You're one lucky guy!" His family, having already heard all of this by the procedure area doctors, nodded their heads, clearly holding back tears. The gravity of it all had started to set in, and they were getting the "glaze" most families get while processing this kind of info.
I had been told in report that there were several pastors in this family, so I felt comfortable looking into the patient's eyes and saying "Someone was certainly looking after you today."
Now, I don't often allude to God with patients. Partly because I've found that they're already terrifyingly aware of their mortality and (unless they're saved) the reminder of a Higher Power doesn't offer much comfort. I also don't want to start an uncomfortable debate about religion and spirituality with the occasional family who denies a Higher Power.
But, with this patient and his family, I felt it would offer some comfort, so I dared to say it.

This was (roughly) our conversation:
Me: I know you were supposed to have this procedure yesterday, but your case was bumped at the last minute. If this problem had happened yesterday or even earlier today when you weren't in the cath lab, things could have gone very poorly. You were in the right place and the exact right time.
Pt: That's what everyone keeps saying.
Pt's Wife: That's what scares me the most...
Me: Well, you were very lucky. Someone was certainly looking after you today.
*Pt looks at me... looking very attentive and intimate*
Pt's Wife: He certainly was! Thank God for that!
Pt: [very serenely] I know where I'm going. It would have been okay.
*Pt's wife looks down, again clearly holding back tears*
Me: Well, that kind of confidence is good to hear, but it looks like He wasn't ready to have you yet!
Pt: No, I guess He still has some plans for me. I think they involve spoiling my grandchildren.
*Pt winks at me, and his wife giggles weakly*

It was a short conversation, but I love any affirmation of the power and confidence found in the Truth. This wasn't a man sitting in a pew praying, or a man standing in church worshipping, or even a man at his friend's funeral contemplating mortality and heaven. This was a man who was recovering from a literal near-death experience, still with a little bit of human fear, but ultimately looking back with confidence and quietly reassuring his family in his final destination. I was trying to witness to and comfort him, but I think I ultimately got more out of that conversation. I think if you took a poll of nurses, asking who learns more from patient/nurse interactions, I think most would say that they, the nurses, learn equally or more abundantly from all these interactions. This conversation happened in the last 45 minutes of my 12 hour shift, but I'm still sitting here reveling in it.

This is the week following "The Week of the Nurse", a week where nurses are nationally recognized for our sacrifice, labor, and care. My hospital makes a big deal out of it, and even my family has showered me with admiration for my choice of profession this week. I've been hearing so much praise over the past week for my contribution to the wellbeing of others, for my sacrifice to benefit others, and for the impact of my compassion and knowledge.

But none of that is why I'm a nurse. I'm a nurse because I can have an occasional glimpse at Eternity with people.