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Daniel in the Lion's Den

AuthorHouse

Contents

Foreword................................................1Preface To Patient Advocate Stories.....................3Disclaimer..............................................7Patient Advocate Stories................................9God's Plan..............................................203God's Gift..............................................209

Chapter One

I am sure that God wanted me to feel "at home" in my new job. And the best way would be for me to jump in with both feet. The "Lions" almost bit off my feet before I could even get them on the ground. This first issue would be repeated over and over again during my days as Patient Advocate, but the first time was definitely the worst.

Patient Brenda, a very angry lady in her 40's, complained loudly about her doctor and her discharge. We have guidelines to follow in such cases, but this was only my fifth day on the job and I was not up to speed on protocol or chain of command. I learned both from this experience. After 20 minutes of discussion, I was able to settle her down a little, but only because I agreed to find a higher authority. I would learn to handle this myself in the future.

I went looking for the highest authority, actually my boss, the Emergency Department Director. She was not in (that was a good thing). I should have called the "Clinical Coordinator" who is in charge during my shift (also known as the Head Nurse or Lead Nurse). Instead, I talked to several "office" personnel, who tried to find someone who could deal with this woman. They should never have been involved. Any issues in Emergency should be handled in Emergency.

Sometimes it takes a major mistake to learn a lesson well. We do learn more from our mistakes than we do from our successes.

Thankfully, word did travel to the Clinical Coordinator, and she talked to the patient. Brenda finally left, and her mood wasn't much better than it was with me. I was reprimanded, but later cleared of any wrongdoing. Whew! My first week of employment, and it almost ended before it began.

The first Patient Advocate hired among the four of us and the one who was instrumental in interviewing me and had a vote in my hiring told me after the angry-patient experience with Brenda that, when in doubt, I should be myself.

She said that I was hired because of my character, wisdom, and empathy. All I needed to do was trust myself. From that day on, I did. And, from that day on, I have experienced the most fulfilling job of my life! A job that would allow me to go beside patients and their families and friends, and simply make their day a better day and provide them with words of assurance, and direction where needed. I love this work.

FIRST DEATH

Death. For the first time, as a Patient Advocate, I was face-to-face with death. Not with just the patient who had died, but also more than 20 family members and friends.

The patient, Joe, was brought in "down" (no vitals), he could not be revived. I was immediately overwhelmed with sadness for the 51 year-old man who died. I looked at Joe and realized that he would never again speak, see, walk, feel the warmth of a loved one's touch, have a piece of pie, listen to his favorite song, or feel the kiss of a cool breeze.

Yet, I also knew that a new journey had begun, and for that I was a little envious. I thought of my daughter, grand daughter, and mother. They all await us in a place that they probably couldn't even describe. A place of love, deep love, unconditional love ... a love that never ends. I prayed for the man. I prayed again with his family. I took them downstairs to view the body. All went well, considering.

Joe's mother referred to me as "Have you Heard" over and over again (after she read my name tag). She smiled, but I understood that smile. It was a smile of shock. Shock is our first response to death. It takes a while to believe it actually happened. I was glad that she had some light moments, but I knew she was deeply hurt and would soon begin to feel the pain of missing her son, Joe.

There is nothing worse than the loss of a child, at any age. God moved me to say the right things (I hope). I know He was there. He always is.

A CALMING PRAYER

As I walked through one of the modules in the emergency department, I came across a man named Isaiah. He was a very slight-built man of 51. He nervously paced about his bed, unable to lie down. He couldn't bring himself to rest. I wasn't sure what made him so intense. As I approached him, he suddenly spoke to me. "Are you a preacher?"

I said, "No, but maybe I could help you anyway."

Isaiah said that his nerves were shot and he couldn't lie down and rest. He asked me if I would say a prayer over him, thinking a prayer might settle him down. I was happy to oblige.

I told him to lie on his side, facing me. I laid a hand on his shoulder and began to pray. I asked God to calm him and give him peace of mind. I also asked God to heal him of whatever is causing his unrest. To my surprise, when I finished the prayer, he said, "Reverend, I am at total peace. Thank you. I feel the Lord's presence and I am fine now. I can go to sleep." And he did!

After a very busy day, this moment also brought peace to me. I told Isaiah to rest now and that I would be available to him throughout the night if he needed me.

As I began to leave the module, two other patients also asked me to pray for them. Usually, whatever I give to one patient, others will follow up with the same request. Patients are very much like children at times. If one is being benefited by my attention, others will want that same attention. That's OK with me.

ENCOURAGEMENT TO HEAL

Just like Isaiah yesterday, three more patients asked me if I was a priest or minister. It is a role that I don't mind filling at all.

I talked with the three patients, saying prayers and giving them encouragement to heal. I enjoy this kind of ministry and see it as an important function of my job as Patient Advocate. Because I wear regular "street" clothes instead of scrubs of a doctor or uniform of a nurse, the patients rationalize that I must be the clergy. To some, I explain my role as a Patient Advocate, but to many I just minister to their needs. Often times, I will say that I am not a priest or minister, or that I am not a doctor, but the patients will not believe me. They say, "Hey, Doc, am I going to be alright?"

I simply tell each of them, "You're gonna be just fine."

They usually respond with something like, "Thanks, Doc. God bless you."

My gray hair seems to have a calming influence. I'm glad it's good for something.

A WIFE COLLAPSES

I joined one of our doctors as she approached the wife of a 48 year-old man who had just been brought into our emergency room. The man was dead on arrival. But, because the doctor needed more information, she asked a few questions before she announced that the lady's husband had died. As the doctor talked about what kind of a day the man had, and asked vital questions about what might have brought on his heart attack, I could see that the wife was beginning to show a little hope, that maybe her husband had survived. It was uncomfortable watching this lady's spirits raise when I knew that...