”I felt my heart today.” I was tired and feeling sorry for myself because I had only twenty minutes before I was to assist in an operation. I was being sent for another patient. “I’ve come for Mr. D.” “Here, let me go with you.” I looked into the face of a young nurse. Her eyes were warm and her smile sincere. She led me to the door, but before we could get into the room, the relatives had to leave. There must have been ten adults in that one little room. But I remember their faces as they walked past me. I saw concern, lines of worry and what must have been love. I pushed the stretcher to the bedside of the patient. He was an old man wrinkled with age. His eyes were kind, and his face seemed weathered in a tender compassionate way by the storms of time. I greeted him with a good afternoon and a push-button smile. He didn’t hear me, but seeing my smile brought a smile in return. We assisted him on to the stretcher and placed the siderails up. As 1 guided the stretcher down the hall, 1 wondered if this might be his first experience as a surgical patient. How frightening and .bothersome all those preoperative preparations must have seemed to him. I only hoped someone took the time to explain the reasons behind them. The elevator doors opened and closed, and we found ourselves on the seventh floor, the destination for the old man and me. I pushed his stretcher to the wall and hurried off to prepare for my assignment. As I was scrubbing at the sink I found myself looking at him all alone there. 1 felt a disturbing, sad sort of feeling. Just then a man dressed in a green scrub suit confidently walked up to him, and the old man reached out to clasp his hand. I could see a calmness spreading across his face as the surgeon spoke in reassuring tones. I saw him wheeled into the operating room and the empty stretcher returned. I know now what that disturbing feeling was. It was my heart saying: he’s lonely and frightened, please care about him. And I remember those relatives and that nurse, and I remembered their expressions. They cared. -Nancy Long senior student Presbyterian Hospital School of Nursing Charlotte, N.C. September 1970 51

“I felt my heart today”

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”I felt my heart today.”

I was tired and feeling sorry for myself because I had only twenty minutes before I was to assist in an operation. I was being sent for another patient.

“I’ve come for Mr. D.” “Here, let me go with you.” I looked into the face of a young nurse. Her eyes were warm and her

smile sincere. She led me to the door, but before we could get into the room, the relatives had to leave. There must have been ten adults in that one little room. But I remember their faces as they walked past me. I saw concern, lines of worry and what must have been love.

I pushed the stretcher to the bedside of the patient. He was an old man wrinkled with age. His eyes were kind, and his face seemed weathered in a tender compassionate way by the storms of time.

I greeted him with a good afternoon and a push-button smile. He didn’t hear me, but seeing my smile brought a smile in return.

We assisted him on to the stretcher and placed the siderails up. As 1 guided the stretcher down the hall, 1 wondered if this might be his first experience as a surgical patient. How frightening and .bothersome all those preoperative preparations must have seemed to him. I only hoped someone took the time to explain the reasons behind them.

The elevator doors opened and closed, and we found ourselves on the seventh floor, the destination for the old man and me.

I pushed his stretcher to the wall and hurried off to prepare for my assignment.

As I was scrubbing at the sink I found myself looking at him all alone there. 1 felt a disturbing, sad sort of feeling. Just then a man dressed in a green scrub suit confidently walked up to him, and the old man reached out to clasp his hand. I could see a calmness spreading across his face as the surgeon spoke in reassuring tones.

I saw him wheeled into the operating room and the empty stretcher returned. I know now what that disturbing feeling was. It was my heart saying: he’s lonely and frightened, please care about him.

And I remember those relatives and that nurse, and I remembered their expressions. They cared.

-Nancy Long senior student Presbyterian Hospital School of Nursing Charlotte, N.C.

September 1970 51