The Patient in Room 11

What must it be like lying in a hospital bed, immobilized and restrained, with a tube from your mouth hooked up to a gigantic breathing machine known as mechanical ventilation, strapped to pins and rods to help mend your broken leg, suctioned almost every hour to remove any gunk that builds up in your lungs, stuck with needles few times in a day for what seems to be an eternity of a blood donation drive?  You wanted to speak, you wanted to scream, you wanted to know what happened...but you can’t. You just lay there motionless, with pain medications to keep you quiet, unknowing to the rest of the world that the pain you feel is beyond physical.

I entered the room with a mixed emotion of enthusiam and anxiety. Being a nurse for barely a year, ICU training is certainly as intimidating as entering college. Nevertheless, I approached my daily task with as much anticipation as showing off my technical skills of becoming an effective ICU nurse. I did my usual routine of checking my IV lines and other gadgets with an extensive organized “to do” list on my clipboard. I briefly introduced myself to my patient and could barely remember his name so I did the safest name tag—I called him “Sir”.

It was indeed a very busy day for me; I spent all of my time running around the room to the computer desk, the vent, the IV pole, and the medication cabinet. I could tell from a glance that my patient kept on looking at me and whatever it was that I was doing. Yet I chose to pay no attention since he was not saying anything, nor could he. 

After eight draining hours of hard work, I still felt that my best was not enough.  I was starting to have self doubts.  As I bid goodbye to the other staff, I decided to drop my best wishes and get well soon to my patient. To my surprise he reached for my hand, squeezed it tight and struggled with his tube to mouth off the word “gracias.” Stunned, I gave him a nod and a smile.

It has been a while and I don’t know what had become of him. But every time I am overwhelmed by the technicalities of my profession, I think of the gentleman in room 11, knowing that for a short period of time I have been a friend to him. My prayers are with him.