Rnjetta

October 28, 2003

Give a Cheer

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One of my special patients passed away a few days ago and it has broken my heart. Doing this LO has been cathartic and uplifting for me. Thanks for looking!<blockquote><font size=2>Journaling reads:People always ask me why I wanted to become a nurse. I always say it’s “because I’m Filipino! Why else?” I guess when I first started nursing I was young and naïve, really believing in this idealistic and romantic world of saving the world! I would have patients who appreciated me, who thanked me, who got better because of me. I was happy caring for my pediatric patients. The kids loved me and hugged me and sometimes called me “mama.” I was in heaven even if my feet killed me and I couldn’t stand the thought of changing another dirty diaper. I did my job well although I was careful not to get too attached. Now, looking back on my experience I am a little bit more cynical and a little more realistic in the world we live in. Still, I was unprepared for and highly affected by a young lady who I would later call “friend.”<br>I don’t really remember the day I learned of Jessica. She always seemed to be around. She was a “frequent flier” in the hospital, always being admitted for her cystic fibrosis and pneumonia. Each time she was discharged, we expected her back in the hospital soon after. She would call us from home and ask the nurses how and what they were doing. She had no one to talk to but the doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists. She was home schooled since she missed so many days of school and did not have the company of those her own age. She was lonely.<br>Although Jessica was lonely, she had a big family. Her father worked many jobs to support their large family. Her mother did not drive and did not speak English. Her siblings were much younger and needed constant care. Often times, they could only visit a limited time a day. It was no surprise that Jessica grew increasingly attached to the hospital staff and the hospital staff grew progressively more attached to Jessica. I definitely became victim of the “falling in love with Jessica syndrome.”<br>I’m sure boredom played a great part in Jessica’s antics in the hospital! She was fifteen years old and acted like she was eleven. Often times, my checking up on her resulted in me peeing my pants, either from laughing or from fright. She would pretend to be asleep and scare the nurses when they gave her antibiotics in the middle of the night. She thought it was funny to be found hiding under the bed from new respiratory therapists. Because they did not know her, they didn’t know where to look. I would get calls at the nurse’s station from a disguised voice asking what I was doing. She would laugh and tell me “It’s Jessica!” as if I never knew. She was such a practical joker and laughed all the time, which often resulted in her coughing like she would bring up her own lung. Once, I snuck in my puppy to visit her. He proceeded to chew on her toes and she laughed. She would sit at the nurse’s station with a mask over her face to prevent her from catching a new bug and drew her many pictures of me and other nurses in strange situations. Someone would be stuck on a desert island and I would climb palm trees and pick bananas. She had a vivid imagination and a creative soul. <br>Like any child, Jessica loved presents! She celebrated many holidays and many birthdays with us, always making it known to everyone when those special days were coming. Again, those that suffered from the “falling in love with Jessica syndrome” were very affected by these special times. I would often walk into her room and be greeted with an abundance of generosity from the hospital staff. Her favorite animal was the monkey and everyone knew it! There was a jungle full in her room. She also hinted at liking scented soaps and lotions and did she ever get whatever she wished for. She was loved by all!<br>Jessica and I had something special in common-crafts! I regularly brought her something to pass the time in the hospital-beads, fabric painting, makeup, and scrapbooking. Jessica was an artist in every sense of the word. She wanted to create something all the time. Being the crafty one, I could relate and our bond grew stronger. It grew so strong that I would pick her up from her house and we would spend all day crafting and laughing. She would laugh so hard she would cough uncontrollably, only reminding us how sick she really was. She would eat so many jalapenos in her meals that it made my nose run! She talked about her hopes and dreams, some childish and some very adult. She wanted to have a family but told me how devastated she was that she couldn’t have any kids. She wanted to have friends, but she didn’t go to school. She had a crush on Douglas but didn’t want to tell him so. She was close to reaching adulthood but I knew she would never reach it. She was too sick. We were doing everything possible for her medically and it would only be a matter of time. <br>Jessica and her family moved away a few months ago, and I received letters and phone calls from her telling me how wonderful she was doing. She hadn’t been in the hospital for such a long time, she said. How come I didn’t write a lot more, she asked. How are the dogs, she asked. Her family said hi, she said. She was doing so well, she said. I didn’t believe her but I knew she needed someone to listen to her, not correct her. It was not my place. We soon received a phone call that informed us that Jessica’s lungs were not strong enough anymore and that she passed away. I received a call at my home from Jessica’s family a few days later informing me of her death. Her family wanted to let me know that Jessica often thought of me and was calling my name in her last days.<br>I am writing this just a few days after Jessica died and a part of me has gone with her. I know that she is not coughing where she is right now. She is laughing, and she is surrounded by her beloved monkeys. She is drawing a picture of herself climbing a palm tree and she has painted herself with many different scented lotions. She is making everyone around her laugh and she does not suffer anymore.<br>I know now why I am a nurse. My purpose was to meet this lovely, extraordinary person, who made me laugh and cry at the same time, who made me think beyond my profession, who made me love her to no end. She offered so much to me in friendship. For others, I can only hope to do the same.</blockquote></font>

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