"You're floating up to Tele this evening," my Supervisor stated.
"But, I can't read the monitors yet!" I replied with some anxiety. I was a L.P.N. going to R.N. school, and this was my first day on the job at this St. Paul hospital. I was only BLS certified, not ACLS.
"Not to worry," said she. "I told them your status and they have some over-flow Med/Surg patients that they need help with." I breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. Med/Surg was my strength.
"I'm on it. Thanks." Off I went to the Tele floor to grab Report. "Joe", was one of my elderly patients, recovering from a recent bout of pneumonia. He had also had a chest tube which was removed earlier that day. Awake, alert and oriented, he chatted on about his dear wife of 62 years, 9 kids and many grandchildren. He couldn't wait to get home. He was up in chair for supper. I had already done my assessment with him earlier, and medicated him for pain. He was tired of course, but in very good spirits. Around 8:00 p.m., I was assisting Joe with his H.S. cares. He was rather fatigued being up so we opted to let him do them while he was in bed. I had just set up the bedside table with his supplies.
"Joe," I said, "I am going to empty your foley bag while you are washing up, and then I will remove it and finish your cares."
He nodded, smiling. "You know," he started, "I use Sea Bond. (denture item) As soon as he got the words out, he looked past me at the window. His expression had suddenly changed. The sun had started to go down, and we were up several stories, so the beams from the sun wouldn't reach his window, still a very bright stream of light was coming through. Joe's smile broadened. Joe raised his arms, as his face lit up, as a child waiting to be picked up by a loving father, he collapsed.
"Joe," I yelled, "Can you hear me?" I grabbed my scope and listened to his chest. He had no heartbeat. I yelled for help. The nurses came running. In my panic I couldn't remember if he was a full code or not.
"He is," stated the Charge Nurse. "Let's do this."
I removed the headboard and placed it under Joe's upper body and tossed his Pillow to the chair. I climbed up on his bed for better leverage and began compressions. My Preceptor was there at his head with the Ambu bag. I counted and pushed down, praying inside that I was still doing it right, and that Joe would come back. I was so focused on the compressions and the fear I was feeling, I didn't notice when the Code Team arrived. They put leads on his chest, turned on their equipment, still I did compressions. Finally, and very kindly, sensing my intensity, the doctor gently said in my ear,
"You may stop compressions now."
"Oh!! You're here!" I said with relief. We had a rhythm. By now Joe's family was arriving in the hallway, along with the Hospital Chaplain. I looked at my Preceptor, trying hard to appear calm, even though inside my gut was feeling, anxiety, relief, exhaustion. She hugged me.
"Well," said she, "I guess we can check off your Orientation C.P.R. requirement." I stepped back into the hallway to see Joe's family. The team was still getting him stabilized for transport to ICU. The Chaplain was offering comfort and calm. The family asked me what happened. I explained. The Chaplain took my hand and held it to his chest and asked,
"What do you think he saw?" There was silence in the hallway. I knew I would have to be careful of what I said. Still, as nurses, we treat not only the body but the spirit as well. I silently prayed for guidance.
"I'm not sure," I started, "But, Joe saw something and whatever it was, or Whomever it was, he was happy when he saw it. He raised his arms, and drew it in." Tears began to form in the Chaplain's eyes. He turned and offered to walk over to ICU with the family.
I turned to my charting, a bit choked up myself. Jan, my Preceptor, just smiled. My first day on the job and my first code. Yikes! The next day I learned that we only got Joe back for four hours, that in the wee hours of the morning, he died. I was sad, but glad that we got him back long enough for him to say goodbye to his family and his beloved wife of 62 years.
Looking back, I am not sure why I was allowed to be part of that in the grand scheme of things. But while being mindful of HIPAA, when I shared the story with my Bio professor, a man with a cardiac problem, who often asked me about what I believed out of class, he too had tears in his eyes.
"If you are not sure of what may come after death, Sir, ask yourself this, what did Joe see?
