March 23, 2007
View From Lodi, CA: An Act of Kindness Helps Save A
Life
By Joe Guzzardi
Last week, I wrote in
my News-Sentinel editorial about my nearly
three-month stay in the hospital battling
pancreatitis. I identified as one of the reasons I
pulled through was the dedicated care that I got from
hospital professionals.
But there was one specific act of human kindness—well
above and beyond what any patient might expect—that gave
me the boost I needed to prevail.
Here’s what happened. During the early days of my
hospitalization, a friend brought family pictures of me
with my son, my grandchildren, and my pets. She put them
up on the wall.
When nurses and doctors came into the room, they
would ask questions about the kids and about which dog—Fido,
Sparkle and
Hoppy—had what name.
And I would tell them about my family as well as the
history of each animal and how it became a member of my
household.
The
animal photos reflected happier times since they
were taken during the summer at the local
irrigation canal where the dogs were swimming and
racing after jackrabbits through the vineyards.
Often, after my visitors left, I would look at those
pictures with despair so far away did those carefree
summer days seem.
In fact, through those pictures I first realized how
grave my condition was. Nurses would point to a photo of
me and ask, "Who is this?" And from that moment
forward, I could never summon the courage to look at
myself in the mirror until just days before I left the
hospital.
Then one day the lead floor nurse, Kathy, came into
my room and said, "I’ll bet you’d love to see your
dogs. If you would, I think I can make that happen for
you."
I had never dreamed that it would be possible for my
dogs to visit me.
But Kathy got the ball rolling. Kathy coordinated
with my Lodi friends who would drive the dogs up to
Sacramento. She secured the doctors written permission,
arranged the time and place for the reunion.
And when the much-anticipated day of the dog visit
arrived, Kathy let the nurses know that I would be
outside in the patio…not only seeing my dogs but also
grabbing my first breath of fresh air in weeks.
Kathy wheeled me down the elevator and rolled me out
to the appointed spot.
One by one, the dogs raced toward me tugging on their
leashes, while Kathy sat protectively by to make sure
that none of them jumped into my lap.
I fed them dog treats and scratched them in all their
favorite places.
Our visit lasted about an hour. Kathy told me I could
take longer if I wanted; she was in no hurry. But an
hour was all I had in me.
When Kathy and I got back to my room, I told her that
seeing my dogs filled me with an even stronger desire to
get well and go home.
Kathy said: "Most of today’s nurses are
very proficient technically. But too many forget
that good nursing includes patient comfort. It’s up to
us to do all that we can in that regard although
overcrowding makes it hard."
I ran into Kathy last week when I returned to the
hospital for my weekly check-up. She is busily making
plans for her son’s Maui wedding later this spring.
We talked about her hopes and dreams for her son. And
I told her that I would always remember her for her
kindness and that she and her family would forever be in
my prayers.
Joe Guzzardi [email
him], an instructor in English
at the Lodi Adult School, has been writing a weekly
column since 1988. It currently appears in the
Lodi News-Sentinel.