This is the award-winning letter sent to Pediatric Unit Staff:
About the 3rd week of September, I was approached by a couple of peers to review a situation involving a pediatric patient who at the time was requiring outpatient blood/blood products transfusions. He was a 14 yr old young man who was terminally ill and this treatment was being given as a palliative approach to end of life care. It seemed to be a "no brainer" decision to have this young man come to our Pediatric unit and establish outpatient care on an as needed basis. After all, we are Pediatrics, and we did have a limited experience with one other hospice/end of life Pediatric case.
Little did we know just how complex this case would become. Little did we understand the journey we were embarking on that would change our lives while caring for this special young man in his final days.
Our first encounter with Eli was fraught with anxiety for all because we were coming together as total strangers, staff and family. We would soon come to appreciate the challenge on our hands as we were initially met with seeming unreasonable expectations for everything to be done "yesterday", and that we should be able to anticipate their every need, etc. But, as we started filtering the "road noise", all we could see was a family fighting for a young man's life realizing that each "next day" was a gift. Literally overnight, I watched my staff become Eli's champions and embrace this family as their own. They continued to communicate in calm, reassuring voices, and meet every challenge with dignity and grace, allaying fears and concerns. Each time Eli came, he was surrounded by multiple loving family members, so my staff had to work with the entire group, fielding questions, etc. This was his usual support base and we soon realized that we should all be so fortunate to have such an "army" at our disposal.
There were many calls each visit to his oncologist at U of M, changing approaches to the outpatient therapy, etc. Three days after his first visit, his U of M doctor came to Genesys to check on Eli and to "check us out" because he couldn't believe that we would take this case sight unseen. He marveled at what he saw as loving interactions between the nursing staff and Eli and family, and then stayed to hold a patient conference with all of them. He later shared with Dr. Ken Steibel and me that he was just blown away that we would even consider taking on this family and providing the services we had started because of the complexity of the case and the family dynamics, etc. He said that Eli's case was considered very complex for U of M's Childrens Hospital so the fact that as a general Peds unit we would assume outpatient care was just amazing.
We initially treated Eli every other day, and and then progressed to daily visits, especially when trying to get him ready for "one more" celebration, like his 15th birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas family combo night, and homecoming football night. We cheered him as he was beamingly crowned homecoming king, and then watched with breaking hearts as his body started failing him rapidly after that.
My staff cried with his mom as she shared that she knew he was running out of time. He had told her that he was "ready to go", but was concerned about her being able to let him go when the time did come. The family openly shared their faith and very personal experiences of all night prayer vigils, hoping for the miracle that wasn't to be. They even had prayer in the room, making sure the staff were included in the family circle. They repeatedly stated that my staff were the most wonderful that they had encountered during Eli's illness, believing that the love and compassion displayed was genuine and from the heart.
I watched as my staff, exhausted from each encounter, put on their happy faces and resumed assignments of other pediatric patients who they knew were going home in good health. Those of my staff who didn't have the opportunity to care for Eli made sure that the rest of the unit was running smoothly at all times.
On October 12, Eli visited us for the last time, his disease-consumed body wracked with intractable pain. Mom spoke with the oncologist and decided at that point that they would discontinue the now ineffective treatment and go home. She tearfully thanked my staff for giving her an extra month with her son that she had been told shouldn't have been possible.
On Sunday afternoon, October 14, Eli went from his mom's arms into the arms of Jesus, whole and perfect.
Eli and his family entrusted his life to us for 22 short days. He opened our hearts wider than we thought possible and taught us grace under fire. His indomitable spirit has renewed our strength and re-awakened our passion for pediatric nursing.
As their very proud and privileged manager, I believe that my Pediatric staff deserves the daisy award for their shining example of excellence in patient care and for demonstrating super human work done by nurses every day. The gift they lovingly gave Eli's family will continue giving throughout the difficult days and months ahead.
They are my heroes. |