A simple touch

Once again, I'm at work ..... having a hectic night, the ED (Emergency Department) has been hopping!

I got paged while in peds doing a treatment on my kiddos up there for a treatment of another one of my patients on the other side of the floor. No problem, since I was just finished up and heading over that way anyway to start those rounds.

This patient is a little old man, a frequent flier here. He has end stage COPD and easily gets short of breath. I went into his room and there he sat huffing and puffing away. I smiled, told him to slow down his breathing and I'd get his treatment hooked up. I got him all hooked up and raised the head of his bed so he could lay his head back and get more relaxed. So he scooted back into bed and proceeded to talk to me between his labored breaths. He thinks maybe he had a bad dream ... he said he never remembers his dreams, but he said he just woke up and felt weird. I told him that was possible, and there was nothing to worry about, then we talked about that weird feeling .... he couldn't describe it, it's just weird in your stomach he said. I thought to myself, anxiety attack .... I know it well.

His treatment finished and I put his oxygen back on him and we continued to talk a little. He grabbed my hand and held it ... looked me in the eyes and thanked me for my time and my smile. He thanked me for calming his fears. Of course I smiled and said that's what I'm here for. He continued to talk .... holding my hand. I didn't mind ... I knew it was the talking and the simple touch that was helping calm his nerves. I asked him if he'd like me to stay with him for awhile, but of course he said no, he knew I had work to do. But still he held my hand and talked.

Finally, he let go ... rolled over and said he was going back to sleep. He was calm, and feeling better ... again thanking me.

It's funny how it's the little things that matter ..... it wasn't the medicine I gave this dieing man, but the time I gave to talk and listen.