Three weeks ago today, my dad had a stroke.
Receiving the news, my first thought was: my dad doesn’t have strokes. This is the same man who, after watching me complete a marathon, said, “that doesn’t look so hard” and started training at the age of 65, having never run before. He went on to complete not one, but three marathons. He is always working on something -installing new flooring in his living room, re-tiling the fireplace, fixing the roof- this wasn’t a man who had health problems, much less strokes.
Except that he did. And so I cancelled a keynote, immediately got on a plane and flew to his bedside.
My dad, -my superman, really- was now lying in a hospital bed, his face contorted and paralyzed, his speech and motor skills impaired. As I watched him struggle to put on his eyeglasses, or speak, or do any of the things that a few days before had come so naturally, I felt incredibly helpless. My sister and I took turns crying in the bathroom so he wouldn’t see our grief.
Because there isn’t a lot to do while sitting in a hospital room, I watched the nurses interact with my dad. Most were terrific, a few were ok, and luckily we didn’t have any who were horrible. The best nurses, though, were those who were able to blend their position and their person.
We all want nurses who know what they’re doing, since they administer the majority of care to our loved ones. And yet we also want them to be warm and encouraging. When you’re in a hospital you are incredibly vulnerable- nurses who maintain the dignity of the patient and treat them like people instead of invalids make all the difference in the world. Our trust in the nurses comes from their ability to demonstrate their competence, or position, while at the same time demonstrating their concern, or person.
This balance of position and person is just as important to all of us as it is to those in the nursing profession. There are times when it is appropriate to come from our position -when our credibility must be demonstrated- and other times it is more appropriate to come from our person -when we need to show we care. Charismatic people are a blend of both, and bring out what’s appropriate depending on the needs of the situation.
My dad made a speedy recovery -so speedy in fact, that he is already home, walking up and down the stairs, lifting weights, joking around. He can do everything he did before, albeit a little slower, and we like to tease him that when he talks he sounds a little drunk. When I asked if he ever asks “why me?” he said, “Sure. But then I think, why not me? It happens.”
Thank goodness that when it does, there are nurses like those who attended my dad.
*A big thank you to the nurses and therapists at Presbyterian Intercommunity Hospital in Whittier, CA.


