The Power of Touch

The Power of Touch
I worked as a medical/surgical nurse at a busy hospital and was
young in years and experience when this happened.

I had a patient to care for on my night shift along with eight
others. This particular patient did not talk, move or even give
me eye response when I was speaking to her.

She was alone; no family. She was a DNR (do not resuscitate),
no heroic measures for her, just let her be.
She was on the telemonitor, which watches what the heart is
doing, rate, rhythm, etc.

After I did my initial assessment (like a physical exam), I
repositioned her, placed pillows at the areas known to have
skin breakdown (any bony prominence) and tried to make her
more comfortable. Then I went to speak to the nurse watching
the telemonitor for the shift so I could find out her rhythm,
etc. to put in my nurse's notes.

I was shocked when she pointed to the screen that displayed my
patient, "This is what a dying heart looks like."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She didn't look to be in
any distress when I was just with her. I asked a few questions
then quickly went back to the patient. Still no change.

As the evening went on, I got patients admitted from the emergency
room and things got very busy. I had to make time to check on my
"special" lady.

Every four hours I like to check vital signs if someone is in
this state. I took them again; pulse rate and blood pressure
were lower. I was standing at the bedside and could talk to the
telemonitor nurse over the intercom in the room. I asked her if
there has been any change.

"The heart rate is 60 and dropping." While I was checking blood
pressure and breathing rate, suddenly there were two other
nurses and several nurses aid's in the room. Since she was DNR,
there was absolutely nothing we could do.

The other members stood and watched as the voice over the
intercom said, "Heart rate is 50 and dropping." Her respiratory
rate dropped from the normal 20 a minute to 15 then 10.
She was going.

I stood there feeling completely helpless. I must do something.
The only thing to do was pray.

"Heart rate is 40."

I prayed silently and looked around the room. Everyone was just
standing, watching, with their hands clasped in front of them.
She was not struggling, but lying peacefully with her hands across
her chest, rising slower and slower as her breaths decreased.

Speaking to the intercom I said, "Her breathing is 5."
Of course I am touching her while checking blood pressure but it
is not the same as "touching" her.
After a moment her breathing stopped completely.
The feeling of helplessness came forward again.

My mind told me, as many people who are in this room we can't
do anything to help her, but I can touch her and let her know
she is not alone.

I placed my left hand across her hands lying on her chest.

Immediately, she took in a long, hard very deep breath.
The other people in the room looked at each other, then me, then
the patient.

"She's breathing again!
What's her heart rate?" I was shouting to the intercom.
"She's back up to 60, what did you do?" came the booming voice
from the speaker.
"I'll tell you in a minute, let me check a blood pressure."

It was low but far from dead. Her breathing got stronger and
more like normal. She did not die that night, Thank God.

The last I heard she had made a full recovery and was discharged
from the hospital. She was gone when I came back to work a
couple of days later.

Don't deny the healing powers of touch; I never will.
By Kim Ellenburg, North Richland Hills, Tenn
Thank you for this letter. I believe it to be a real life story.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless