Little Star....

It was a busy day at work. I had not seen any of my patients scheduled for the day. After being on vacation last week, I was revisiting patients who were admitted to home health services by other nurses.

Usually, it takes longer to prepare for my visits when I don't really know the patients yet. And I have to find their homes, since I haven't been there before. In addition, I had a nursing student with me for the day.

It's always interesting to have a student: they see things differently than I do, many times. I have been doing this for so long that I don't even think about some of the skills I use until the student asks about them. Of course, teaching students is an important part of my job.

And so is learning from others.

As we arrived at the first patient's house, the student was somewhat surprised. It was a very modest home, and in a not-so-nice neighborhood. As the door was opened for us, it was evident that the house was in a state of disrepair.

The patient was sitting, a little bent over, in a wheelchair. Having suffered a stroke, his affected arm and hand were propped up on a pillow. He was eating hot cereal without any problems as it was fed to him by the speech therapist. His wife looked on worriedly, then smiled when he swallowed it easily.

His daughter was visiting from San Jose, helping her elderly mother take care of her father. She brought her daughter, Celeste, with her. Little Celestina, barely two years old, has long, curly brown hair, pulled back in barrettes. Her big, brown eyes are bright with curiosity. Of course, the first thing I noticed about her was that she was wearing a cute, pink coat.

Diminutive, and very feminine, she watched, intently, everything that was going on. According to her mother, she had not been very receptive to the nurse who did the admission visit. It seems that that nurse was wearing a white uniform and little Celestina was afraid of her. Fortunately, she didn't seem afraid of me at all.

At one point, she walked toward my nursing bag and, although her mother told her not to, she stuck out a chubby little index finger and touched my bag. That's all: she just touched it. And then she walked back to stand at her mother's side.

As I talked to the patient's wife, with his daughter interpreting for us, the patient let out a loud noise that was something like an 'aaaargh....” that a pirate might say. It was deep, and guttural, and just about all he could say. He had drooled and it was dripping off his chin. His wife reached down and gently wiped his chin with a tissue.

We continued to talk and the patient let out another loud groan. Little Celestina walked over to the wheelchair, stood on her tippy toes, and gently wiped Grandpa's chin again. It was one of the most touching moments I have ever seen. To see someone so young and so little, demonstrate such compassion was a joy.

Lessons learned, from a Little Star....