As we’ve settled into this strange routine at Childrens’ Hospital, I’m left thinking about this world that we’re living in. I’m thinking about the surgeons who take the time to answer all of our questions and to talk directly to our son. And I’m thinking a lot about the litany of nurses coming through our lives this week. Actually, we’re visitors in their lives as we live where they work.
Some barely make an imprint, just doing their jobs, efficiently and effectively. Others make an extra effort to ask a question or to notice something about my son. One nurse took me on a tour, two days in, to show me where I could go to get Tallon another juice or a popsicle, something I wish someone had done on the first day. Still another nurse printed information on spleen injuries for me, which I especially appreciated because I like to know as much about something like this as possible. And the best was the nurse we had the second night in who just showed so much tenderness that my son wished for her again.
Just like teaching, there are those in nursing who passed almost anonymously through our lives and those who left an imprint. How simple it was for them to spend just an extra minute and leave us feeling so much better. Showing us that they cared enough to SEE my son, not just another patient in room 910, made a difference to us.
This is exactly the same as what our best teachers do. They see my child, all of him, and they show him that they care who he is. The best teachers, like the best nurses, aren’t afraid to show they care, that they’re interested more in the kid than the task.