Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

“Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” Vaclav Havel, Disturbing the Peace.

Since the power of hope through faith is a main theme in my memoir-in-progress, I want to share some moments that have shaped my life and my story.

Hope can be as simple as wishing for a sunny day so you can go on a picnic or as complex as hoping for a peaceful transition in death.

As a registered nurse, I have had the privilege of caring for many dying patients over the years and have been witness to the amazing power of hope, even in death.

As long as we live, we hope.

Let me tell you about a patient I had when I was a young nurse and what he taught me about hope. His name was Mr. Jacobs.

Sacred Ground

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The dimly-lit lamp cast a shadow of itself on the wall as I approached my silent patient who had curled up in a fetal position, facing the stark white wall. The sadness was palpable. That twenty-nine year-old man was dying of colon cancer. I hesitated at the door to ponder how a young man, only six years older than I could be dying in that bed, his scared wife immersed in her own grief in the waiting room? What in the world could I say or do beyond my routine nursing duties? It was easy to take a blood pressure or administer a medication, but that young man was dying and I was his nurse. Twinges of guilt gnawed at me as I pondered my approach. Not too long ago, that young man was leading a normal life; going to work and coming home to play with his kids. I visualized him dancing at his wedding, laughing and hugging his wife. I thought of my own normal life and how I would leave work and return to a daily routine of doing laundry and going grocery shopping. Maybe I’d go for a walk or visit my friend, Maureen and we’d talk about what we were going to wear to the next party or we’d catch up on the latest gossip. All those things that seemed so important a few hours ago suddenly seemed so trivial and shallow.

As I reluctantly walked to his bedside, I heard his slow, rhythmic breathing, his dinner tray untouched on his bedside stand

“Mr Jacobs, I’ll be your nurse this evening. My name is Kathy.”

Slowly nodding in response, he opened his eyes and turned toward me as I stood by his bed. His hair was thick and black and his skin was yellow from the liver damage. He must have been a very handsome man during his healthy days.

Such dark, sad eyes.

“Is there anything you need right now?” My words echoed in my own ears and sounded so trite to me.

He hesitated, “My wife…she’s in the waiting room. She’s having a real hard time” His eyes welled up with tears.

I sat by his bed and touched his arm in response as we sat in silence for a few moments,

“Do you want me to bring her in so you can have some time together?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I’ll say to her”

“Hard to find the words at a time like this?”

”Yeah”, nodding his head

“Why don’t you just tell her what you are feeling?”

He slowly nodded once in response.

“I’ll go get her.” I stood up to leave, not having any idea what I would say.

As I walked into the waiting room, I saw his pretty young wife sitting quietly, staring blankly out the window. It was dark and the raindrops glistened as they tapped in rapid succession against the pane. Her blonde page-boy hair was neatly combed, every hair in place. She was trying so hard to hold it all together.

“Mrs Jacobs, my name is Kathy. I’m your husband’s nurse,” I said, reaching out my hand to hers.

“She put her head in her hands and began sobbing, “I can’t lose him. We have two young children at home. I just don’t know what I’m going to do without him”, streaks of mascara forming tracks on her cheeks.

I sat down next to her while she cried, knowing I could not tell her it would be alright, like I wanted to be able to tell her. I just listened.

After a few minutes, she stopped crying, wiped her face and tried to catch her breath

“Do you want to come see your husband now? I will go in with you”

She nodded as she stood up, straightening her red pleated plaid skirt and white pullover.

As we paused in the waiting room doorway, I took her hand and looked directly into her soft blue eyes,“It’s OK to tell your husband how you feel, to say whatever you need to say to him.”

We walked slowly to his room.

“Mr Jacobs, your wife is here.” I announced from his doorway

He was still in a fetal position facing the wall when I guided her over to the other side of the bed to face him.

“You two have some time together and tell each other whatever you need to.”

I left the room and said a silent prayer that they would say what they needed to say to one another. I had to catch up with the rest of my assignment, picking up trays, doing blood pressures and giving medications.

After about 20 minutes, when I went to his room to check on him, she was sitting on his bed, holding his hand in hers and they were both smiling.

She stood up, gave him a kiss and said she was ready to leave.

“It was good. Thank you for helping me walk into that room”, she hugged me as my eyes welled up with tears.

Such sacred ground.

The privilege of helping that young couple share and smile through their pain left me in awe. I could hear my own heart beating as I lingered until she reached the elevator. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I took a deep breath, humbled and changed by this encounter. Taking my assignment sheet out of my pocket, I reviewed the list of tasks and started walking toward Room 332 to give my next patient a backrub, very aware that no textbook or classroom could ever touch me like that.

It would be the first of many humbling and profound moments I would share with people in my care. These people would become my greatest teachers.

Hope Matters, no matter what…

How about you? How does hope work in your life?

Next week: Wellness Coach and Writer, Ted Cole will do a guest post on “The Power of Hope”

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