Sept 13: A wonderful conversation

After the excitement of my years as a paramedic, and then the occasional critical situation in the hospital, being in the office all the time is pretty boring. There's rarely anything going on besides office squabbles and politics. It's often frustrating to me because I'm never sure if my presence really makes a difference. And if it does, it's in small ways that any of the other PAs or doctors could accomplish: patient education, filling out disability forms, calming patients. Nothing dramatic. This, of course, is why I'm physically able to work as it's much easier in the confines of an office than running around the much larger hospital spaces all day. But do I really affect any one's life in a significant way? Do I really have any positive influence on anyone?

Tonight I got an answer.

When leaving on Mondays I always check out with Dr. G as he often likes me to do a few hours on call for him. This afternoon he was in a particular funk because his afternoon schedule was full and he has office hours this evening, which meant very little time in between. The man's a bundle of energy, but he is 65 years old. So I didn't mind when he asked me to help with some patient call-backs, which a lot of time the office staff does. The one which was going to take the longest, and some expertise, was a short-term disability form for a patient.

G told me about his case: he had a mitral valve repair in June which had complications. The patient had to be re-intubated (breathing tube), on a ventilator for a couple days. Developed a complication which lead to such severe swelling that he lost the use of his right arm, for which he is now undergoing physical therapy and progressing nicely. I glanced back through the chart and saw that I'd done his stress test in February, and had made a couple notes to jog my memory. He's only four years older than me and was happy to talk to someone who would tell him what it was really like, what to expect. For reference let's refer to him as 'Leo'.

Leo was really worried about waking up intubated as a friend of his had significant problems with this, had to have his hands and arms tied down because in his confused state he kept trying to pull the tube out. I answered honestly and said that waking up on the vent really stunk. You feel like you're breathing through a straw, like you aren't getting enough air. It's scary and uncomfortable, in addition to the pain from the surgery, plus the post bypass/anesthesia confusion. My advice was this: try to relax, let the machine do the work, don't fight it. The tube is in because you need it and as soon as you don't they'll take it out.

I called Leo, discussed what he needed for the form, when he thought he'd be able to return to work. As soon as that was done, Leo said "I'm really glad it's you that called me, I've been wanting to talk to you. Do you remember talking with me about being intubated?" For a change I actually did have a recollection, also jogged by my notes in the chart. Leo continued: "I didn't remember being intubated after the surgery, but then they had to put it back in while I was awake. The doctor was really nice, explained everything. But as soon as they put it (the tube) in I felt worse, it was bad. Then all of a sudden I heard your voice in my head, it was like you were right there. I heard you telling me to relax, not to fight, that I needed it right then. I just heard your voice, over and over, repeating that conversation. Relax, don't fight it. They kept telling me how well I was doing, and I just kept thinking that it wasn't me, it was because of you. You were the reason I was doing well. And I've been wanting to thank you, you helped me so much, you made such a difference to me."

Not surprisingly I was fighting back tears. He kept thanking me, and my response was that he couldn't know how much it meant to me to hear that I'd helped him that much.

Patient education is so important, but my general comments aren't anything that someone else couldn't also say. But this, this was something that few people could have done, and no one in my practice or at the hospital could have said with authority. For this man, at the scariest hours of his life, it was me that made the difference. This is the kind of thing that makes what I went through more bearable, it lets me know why I'm still here. This conversation serves to remind me that despite the lack of drama, the boring routine, that there really are times when my being there is the best thing for that person.

How many other times do we say things to people and don't realize we've helped them? I sent up a prayer of thanks to the spirits for giving me the blessing of hearing something so wonderful, a much needed validation.

And yes, for those in the Small Group Ministry session on Friday, the use of that word is deliberate. It makes me wonder about the timing of our topic--serendipity hardly seems to totally explain.

Thanks for checking in, Laurie