|Late at Night, in Rehab, My Anxious Mom, & "A Woman Named Wendy”|
By Beth Boynton
There is no way I can paint a rosy picture of my mom’s recent hospitalization and subsequent rehab stay for a fractured left upper arm following a fall. She is 91, stubborn, hard of hearing, and has both reasonable and picky expectations. She is smart and pretty astute despite some forgetfulness. Her anxiety has been off the charts and she wants, among other things, to be HOME! Her panic, hearing deficit, pain, dependence on unfamiliar and many new people all contributed to her confusion and despair.
It is very painful for me to see her suffer. But, one story in particular made me cry with gratitude.
I had taken her out for a drive and lunch by the river which is something we always do when I visit her in Florida. We sat feeling the breeze as she shared:
It was late, I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know what time it was. A woman came in and asked me, “Would you like me to sit with you?” I couldn’t see her face, but she sat down and reached for my hand. Something in the way she held and gently squeezed my hand comforted me. I couldn’t see her face. We just sat for a bit. I think she told me her name was Wendy. After a while she said she had to go. She came back later. I was able to fall asleep.
I welled up with tears when she told me this story and do so now as I write about it. This profound example of human caring is as therapeutic as medication, rehab, or brain surgery. And we need all of these. Wendy helped my mother to feel safe and cared for! Days later, when I tracked her down and thanked her, she smiled and said, “It was nothing!
Nothing? NOTHING!It was a huge gift to my mother and her circle of family and friends. And if I can step back from my emotional involvement for a minute, I believe Wendy is an example of what healthcare SHOULD include at every step in every intervention. Or at least more of a priority than it is. Our patients are human beings and caring for them during times of vulnerability, a privilege. Sometimes we lose sight of this. Maybe some of us lose our way. But not Wendy.
The emotional intelligence that she used to assess my mother’s fear that night and understand what she needed and then to take the time to be with her is a reflection of her own compassion and brilliance. It also is indicative of an organization that allows her the time and perhaps promotes this kind of intervention. So I commend Wendy Frazier, Rehab Tech, and Consulate Health Care.And there were other examples where I could feel kindness and respect extended towards my mom…
Tyrone, the physical therapist, engaged her in conversation while working with her…Valerie, the COTA, was so gentle and such a great listener as she moved my mom’s healing arm through painful exercises and helped her to discover hopeful goals for gaining independence. She spoke softly near my mother’s ears and my mom could hear her…Caitthe, LPN/MDS Coordinator/Clinical Liaison, who listened to my concerns and my mom’s and facilitated a medication change and informal team meeting…Emanual…who nudged my mom to join the table for dinner despite my mom’s reluctance, helping her to become part of the community.
I appreciate every one of you and suspect there are others who offered similar support that I didn’t personally observe. These are not small gestures. Please know; I hold you all in deep gratitude and heartfelt respect. We may never eliminate suffering from healthcare. Perhaps it goes hand in hand with our work. But when we honor patients in authentic caring connections… it makes a huge difference.
Beth Boynton, RN, MS, is a daughter, nurse consultant and the author of “Confident Voices” book, newsletter and blog. Follow her posts at http://www.confidentvoices.com/home/, or she can be reached at email@example.com.