Aunt Ruth

As a nurse, there’s many looks that you become familiar with.

Different looks that make give you gut feelings, that make you take a deeper look at things, and looks that pull on your heart strings.

(Names have been changed)

Mrs Ruth. Mrs Ruth soon became Aunt Ruth.

We laughed together. She shared so many stories. There were about two dozen family members that came to visit her during her couple week stay.

I heard stories of little Bobby and all the tricks he played on his sisters and cousins. I heard stories of Mrs Ruth’s famous perogies. We laughed and joked. She shared stories of her childhood and how her mom made some of the best pies in the world.

Her sisters came in and helped her do her make up and hair, curling irons and all!

Mrs Ruth was in her lower 90’s. Just two years prior she was out and about every day, still driving! She helped neighbors with their groceries, she had bingo dates with the girls, she was active in church and always making great food. Lasagna was one of her specialties. Little Bobby loved her lasagna and would still come over when Mrs Ruth made it once a week.

In the last two years Mrs Ruth had slowed down because she was having issues with the circulation in her legs. She could no longer drive on her own. It weighed heavy on her heart that she was unable to help the neighbors like she used to.

Her countless nieces and nephews helped her a lot. She was very close with her son John. Ruth spoke of her granddaughters with such pride. She adored them and each niece and nephew. Sharp as a tack, able to recount where everyone lived and what they did.

At any one time there could be five family members in her room, reminiscing and sharing stories.

It was absolutely beautiful.

I met her three sisters. 5 nieces that I did my best to keep their names straight. Great nieces and nephews. Little Bobby, who in fact, was not little at all and well over six foot tall!

Oh the roar in the room when my eyes grew wide and my mouth dropped open when she said ‘and this is little Bobby’

We laughed and poked jokes. I said after I met at least 20 of them and managed to keep them mostly straight in my mind, I joked and said, ‘shoot, at this point I feel like I should call you Aunt Ruth!’ As I was connecting her IV to another antibiotic. The family laughed and I chuckled, but Ruth grabbed my hand and said, ‘oh would you please?’

Queue my melting heart

So, from that day on when I entered the room, I honored her wish, I called her Aunt Ruth…

In moments when the family was gone, the tech (aka nurses aide) and I would get her washed up. I could see the sadness and defeat in her eyes when we sponge bathed her. She would again mention how just a year or so ago she was so independent. Now, she was getting bathed in a hospital bed.

She had gnarly wounds on her legs. I would change her dressings multiple times a day. She was such a trooper about it and never complained.

Aunt Ruth told me about her husband and how much she missed him. The nights they spent dancing the polka until the early hours of the morning. How she longed so greatly for a house full of children but John was her only baby to make it to full term.

She said that was one of the many reasons she was so close to her nieces and nephews and great nieces and nephews. Family meant the world to her.

So for her to welcome me as part of her family meant the world to me.

We laughed. We joked. We cried at times.

The doctor said she had a long road of recovery ahead and she would be going to a skilled nursing facility for physical therapy. She accepted that in stride. She wasn’t happy about it, but she knew she needed it and she felt she would be too much of a burden to John at home.

She made her choice of facility to go to after being discharged from the hospital…

More family members came and went. More laughter. More talk of amazing food. Talk of things happening in the family in the coming days and weeks. Recitals. Baby showers. Graduations. So much to look forward to.

We had spent many hours together over the course of the few weeks that Aunt Ruth was on our hospital unit. Many times I would spend any spare moment I had with her when I knew my other patients were settled.

Usually this meant I would be staying later after my shift to finish my charting. We had a connection and she had a special spot in my heart, so I didn’t mind having to stay a bit later if it meant special moments with her.

Then came my last shift with her and then I was going to be off for four days. I knew she was doing better and was probably going to be heading to rehab before long.

It was shift change and myself and the oncoming nurse did shift report, we wrote the new nurse’s name on the board. I shared little tidbits of information that I had learned about her and the family. We joked, per usual, there was a couple family members there at the time. I explained that I would be off for the next four days but I would miss them.

Then the look came… the look in her eyes that I felt in my soul. I knew the look and she knew I knew.

She said, ‘ I love you and I can’t wait to see you again.’ But the look in her eyes kicked me in the stomach. Tears flooded my eyes but I quickly blinked them away.

‘I love you too,’ I managed back. She thanked me for all the time we had together. She thanked me for all of the care I gave her and how wonderful of a nurse I was to her. She grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes and said again, ‘thank you. I love you. We will see each other again.’

I knew what she meant. I don’t think anyone else in the room caught it, maybe they did, but in that moment our souls were talking to each other.

There was a sadness in her eyes, but a knowing in her eyes. A knowing that this would be the last time. A look in her eyes of a longing for peace and healing because of the pain she was dealing with. A longing to see her husband again. A longing to see her Lord and Savior, Jesus.

Her and I both knew she would not be in the hospital when I came back after my time off.

Her and I, we had talks of those things when her family wasn’t near. When they went to the cafeteria or visiting hours hadn’t started we would talk about God and her Faith. Her love for Jesus and her church. She also never asked for the pain medicine when the family was there, she only smiled and laughed and acted as if the pain didn’t bother her.

I knew there was a brave front that had hurt behind it. I could feel her frail bones when we bathed and changed her.

I could hear the wear in her voice when she spoke of her inabilities. She hurt. But she never showed it to the family.

It was between us.

It was between us.

Just like the silent words in her eyes that no one else saw but I heard as loud as a fog horn.

“I love you, can’t wait to see you again and share my recipes with you,” as she squeezed my hand.

“I love you too. I can’t wait, but you might want to cook it because I cannot cook!” I chuckled as tears filled my eyes. “I can’t want to see you again.”

“Can I have a hug?”

I couldn’t even say words, I bent down and hugged her. “I love you Aunt Ruth,” I muttered as tears fell from my eyes.

“I love you too, kiddo,” she whispered.

I stood up and quickly wiped my tears. “I’ll see you when I get back!” I said fake cheerfully as I walked towards the door.

Again, our souls connected as I looked into her eyes, both of us acknowledging in our hearts, we both knew, this would be the last time we saw each other on this earth…. she just nodded and waved.

I walked out of the room, choking back tears, and headed to do my charting. The family stopped at the nurses station a little bit later to say good bye and say some of them would be back in the morning.

Night shift was making their rounds and I was finishing my charting when I over heard someone say, ‘hey, 504 passed away.’

A couple of us stood up and were in complete shock as we rushed into her room, ‘I said what do you mean?!?’

They said, ‘she’s gone.’

The tech next to me was even more shocked than I was! She said, ‘ I was literally just in there asking her if she wanted a snack and she said no could I just turn out her lights, literally not even five minutes ago!’

We were standing in her room and staring in disbelief. Aunt Ruth was a DNR- do not resuscitate. So there was no intervention. Again the tech said, ‘I was literally just here and asked if she wanted her usual bedtime pudding and she said no and just asked me to turn out her light.

When a patient passes away two nurses have to listen for a heart beat with a stethoscope for an entire minutes each to confirm the patient’s heart has a topped beating. (If there’s not doctor at that moment).

Even then, I was still in shock. You may think like, dude, you said you exchanged the look… yes, yes we did, but I didn’t know it would be then, like right then. That night. I just knew she was going to rehab and I did not think she would make it much longer with how much basic activities took a toll on her.

She was finally at peace.

I told the nurse I gave report to that I would call John, her son, but the other nurse insisted she would call. I helped get Aunt Ruth cleaned up for him.

I headed to the break room and packed my bag to head home. I grabbed my bag and headed to the nurses station to say good night and started walking down the hall to leave.

When I got about halfway down the hall John rounded the corner. We looked at each other. His eyes were already puffy. He starts saying, ‘ I got here as quick as I could, we had just gotten home, I dropped the girls off when they called.’

We had reached each other and neither of us said a word but just a look and instantly hugged and sobbed into each other’s arms.

We cried. We hugged and we cried. A look. A different look. A look of absolutely heart break.

After a minute I asked if he wanted me to walk him to her room, he said, ‘would you please?’ …. Just like his mom did…

We walked arm in arm down the long hallway to her room where we both said our goodbyes. He cried. He said, ‘she was my best friend.’ We cried. I hugged him again. I walked toward the door, as I glance back I saw him sitting at her bedside holding her hand and crying.

I looked up and mumbled the words, ‘until we meet again Aunt Ruth. I love you.’