A Voice for Misses

Neuro rotation has come and gone. It was only two weeks, thank goodness... It was not my favorite rotation by any means. The stories were so sad. Stroke patients. ICU. Severe brain injuries. Brains aren't like bones and muscles; they don't heal quite as well. These injuries are debilitating and permanent. There is some recovery, but its slow and frustrating.

I wanted to tell the story of a patient I had. I can't use her name, so lets just call her Misses. Misses was such a sweet lady. I was on call during the week, and she came into the ER with stroke symptoms. I did her exam and helped admit her to the hospital for observation and tests. She was my first patient in the hospital to follow from the begining and I followed her the whole time I was on Neuro.
The exams and tests showed that Misses had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side and unable to speak. She was fully aware of what was going on. She knew she couldnt talk and she was frustrated. She answered yes or no questions. She could write her name on a piece of paper for you, but thats it. She couldn't write anything else. She couldn't get her brain to communicate information the way she wanted. Misses knew what she wanted to write and wanted to say, but she couldn't make it happen. The tears on her cheeks were evidence of frustration and fear.

The doctors really irked me when they were taking care of Misses. They talked across her bed about her like she wasn't there. I wanted to tell them, "SHE CAN HEAR YOU! Just because she can't talk, doesn't mean she is deaf!" When they asked her to do things she didn't cooperate with them like she did with me. She wouldn't smile her shy, toothless (but beautiful) grin for them, but would for me (that is a test for some of the cranial nerves for all you non-meddies).

Why did she cooperate with me? I didn't talk over her. I knew Misses could hear me and I acknowledged it. I saw her every morning before the doctors came in and in the afternoon before I left. I talked with her family on the phone, got to meet them in person. I adjusted her bed for her. I covered her up. I put on her socks. I turned up her tv. I got her some water. I asked her questions about her granddaughters. I treated her like a person, not a patient. Like family.

One morning during rounds with the attending (the boss doctor), we went in to see Misses and when they left, I realized that her tv controller/call nurse button was not within reach, her feet were uncovered, her tv was muted. I went back in and covered her up, she smiled, as in to thank me. I put the controller in her hand and showed her how to work it. She nodded her head and grinned again to thank me. I don't know why, but I asked her, "Misses, are you a church going woman?" She nodded yes. "Do you pray?" Yes. "Would you like me to pray for you outloud?" She grabbed my hand and squeezed and shut her eyes. I prayed over Misses. I prayed for her tongue to be loosened. I prayed for her healing. I prayed for return of strength and function. I prayed for her family. When I said amen and opened my eyes, Misses was crying. I wanted to say something, but there were no words. I wanted to stay, but I couldn't. I just smiled and said I would be back later.

I tear up thinking about that experience. Misses is basically locked in her own body, unable to efficiently communicate. She has no voice. That day, I got to be her voice.

The idea of "voice" has stirred my mind greatly. What am I using my voice for? How many of my words every day are useful? How many are pointless? Do my words tear down people? Do they help build people up? Would I be better off with no tongue? I think some days I would. Since I have the privalege of having a voice, I should probably just learn to use it properly as Solomon describes all throughout the Proverbs and James describes in James 3.

Proverbs 21:23
James 3:5-10

A Favorite Picture of mine:

Complements of My Aunt Kyla Holcomb.
Old Highway 1