It has been many years, since i worked at St. Mary Manor nursing home, North Wales, PA where Lucy was a resident.
My memory of Lucy is misty. It seems like a dream. Time has softened the edges. But the touch of her frail hand, heavy breathing still remains fresh in my memory just like the way I remember the sea breeze from my native place, Puri Odisha.
Lucy had terminal cancer when she was admitted to St. Mary’s manor nursing home. The disease had taken its toll on her emaciated face, sallow skin tone. When I did my round with the day shift nurse to get a report, I looked at her heavy breathing and put a red tag on the chart. Anytime, Chandra, she can go any time said, Carol. I mumbled, maybe in my shift since I have established a relationship with her for the last few months. I called home to say that I may be late returning home
After the report, I asked the nursing assistant Ramona to keep a special eye on Lucy and inform me of the status. I went on to give medicine and do the treatment for the other patients as per my duty. Taking care of Lucy was difficult since she spoke no English. She gave a hard time when we tried to bathe or feed her. I remember well that a few weeks back I tried to comb her hair out of curiosity. As usual, she nodded her hair means “no, no”. Suddenly I thought of something to try. I pulled the chair close to her and I tried to talk to her in my Odia language that how I miss my mom. If she was alive I would have helped taking care of her. Each time I finished a sentence Lucy smiled and I made a stroke with the hairbrush. She nodded her head when I gently massaged her hair hoping she will get relief. In my mind, I was thinking that I am with my mom combing her hair. From that time, she became my patient. Every time I worked I made it a point to talk to her in my language and she reciprocated with a smile. My touch and expression was best in my mother tongue and that enhanced our communication. Love does not need language. All it needs a genuine feeling and touch which I had in mind when I was doing her care.
As time passed I saw that her condition deteriorated. Her expression changed from concentration to fear. She was unable to arouse due to heavy morphine dose administration for pain. We decided to establish A DNR (Do not resuscitate) status. I gazed into her face saying softly that don’t worry, I will be back to sit with you and we can talk that day. Not sure if she heard me but her eyes gazed at me saying come back soon. I read at nursing school that nurses must make it a point to sit with their patients before they go when the family is not available. Lucy had no family with her. One distant nephew came to see her during holiday time. I could see that her time has come. Quickly I asked the assistant to take care of the other patients. My intuition was correct. Her fear changed into a panic. She clenched my hands. Our eye contact was unwavering. “Just relax,” I said, speaking calmly and slowly. Do not fight. I gave the morphine as prescribed. “you will have no more pain”. “I am right here with you were my last words to her”. Her respiration became very labored after few minutes showing she is gasping for air. Softly I said, “I am here with you, you are not alone,”. I saw a little smile at the corner of her frail black lips. Few minutes before she was gazing at me but then her eyes were closed. I opened the window as hoping her spirit (Atma) will fly to heaven. I did that as I read it in our scripture. She was in peace.
Time has passed and Lucy’s memory has remained in my memories. I have often told my experience to fellow nurses of this painful memory. Lucy and I could not speak the same language but we were bonded in language of love. I did not have a mother and she did not have a child. So we bonded as we were family. I will never forget her smile, me combing her hair thinking as if I was caring for my mother. Our bond made her fear to accept her death. In return, she gave me the opportunity to care for her. I made it easier for her to say goodbye to this world. I wish I could have done more.
Regardless of how I felt about death, providing professional and quality care to dying patients and their families was salient. That is the oath I took when they put the pin on my dress after I graduated from Gwynedd Mercy College.
