Simple Acts, Part I

I can honestly say that I make every patient smile and treat them like the million bucks they are worth in my heart, at least. I can say that I consistently go out of my way to do the little things to brighten their day, whether they ask for it or not.

For example, I had a patient over the weekend who lost her glasses somewhere in the transfer from ICU to my floor a few days prior to my shift. [Hospital policy states that we must inform patients that he or she is "responsible for belongings kept by patient". This part of the protocol would have been completed days in advance.] During my shift, the ICU called me to inform me that the daughter of my patient had just left their unit upset because the glasses were nowhere to be found. They also stated that the patient had many visitors in their room prior to the transfer and that one of the family members "must have taken them home". Upon her arrival back to my floor, I took the time to speak to her and the patient. I explained I would do what I could to find them. I asked them to review with me with events that took place from the time they were in ICU to their stay here on my floor. The daughter said something that no one had listened to before. "She went to MRI and then came here."

HELLO!!! Patient went to MRI?!! Can't very well wear those glasses in a huge magnetic tube! So they would have taken them off, right?!?? I immediately call MRI, however, since its the weekend, its pretty much a hit or miss....and with my luck, it was two days of miss.

Its Sunday and the patient exhaustedly states, "It's okay. I have another pair at home that I can use."

WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!!! [I must admit, sometimes I can be a little abrasive, in a good way.]

"Hold up! How much did they cost?"

She won't answer, thinking I'm going to pay for them myself.

I ask again. Her daughter states, "I'm not sure, but I think they were at least $220 for the frames and lenses."

"Well, if you're just going to throw money around like that, where's my cut?"

They both start laughing.

I continue. "Let me tell you something...I'm not done looking for these glasses. And if you're ready to give up that's one thing. But I'm not."

She chuckles and I can see her daughter's eyes welling up with tears...the kind of tears forming that you live for...knowing in your heart that you're doing the absolute best and most that you can for something that others would just look past, [and have so far].

I call MRI a dozen more times [seriously]. After a few hours, the phone rings and I see on the caller ID that it's from imaging. I pick up, without even identifying my unit or self.

"You got 'em?"

"Girlllll, We got 'em!"

"I'm on my way. Wait! Where the hell do I go?"

She is laughing hysterically on the other end of the phone. "Do you know where the piano is in the......"

I cut her off, "I'm coming now!' I hang up the phone and skip down the hall. I see the daughter on my way and tell her I have something for her and that I will be back in 30 seconds, no longer.

I run downstairs, go to the desk, thank them about 100 times in our brief meeting, and run back upstairs. I don't slow down until I am at the foot of my patient's bed. She is sleeping. I put the glasses on her and she wakes.

"Good Morning Sunshine...it's nice to see the world as intended, isn't it?"

"You are an angel. How did you...I can't believe it! You found them! Where were they? Thank you so much!" And she rambles on.

"All in a day's work, my dear."

Her daughter gives me a big hug and I can feel those tears that were once welling up fall to my shoulder.

I can tell that even my heart is smiling. That's the reason I do what I do. Something so simple can make the most massive impact, not only in situations like this, but in life.

I encourage you to find these simple things and act upon them, for these are the best moments life has to offer.

-Gray