Nurses in My Life

There are 2.9 million nurses in the United States. My life is blessed because of the nursing profession.

My wife is one of them. For nearly a decade she has tirelessly worked the 12-hour shift occurring on nights, weekends, holidays, and regular days at LDS Hospital and Intermountain Medical Center in Murray, Utah in the newborn intensive care unit working with premature infants.

I’ve seen Lynnette come home so tired and emotionally drained because of concern over one of her patients that I’ve wondered what she’s been doing all day. Because of HIPPA laws she is not at liberty to tell me. However, I know somewhere out in our community there is a family who is better for having my wife in their life during a challenging time period to provide comfort and medical care.

As a professional patient living with a severe heart problem, I have not only fallen in love with and married one of the finest nurses, but I’ve been cared for by hundreds of these folks my entire life.

A couple of weeks ago, I was extremely fortunate with my wife to host a party for the many pediatric nurses who cared for me during my seven-week stay in Primary Children’s Medical Center when I received a heart transplant. They don’t usually see each other out of scrubs, so we enjoyed a wonderful time eating food, talking, and listening to several musician friends play music.

Photo: Some of my nurses from the PCMC CSU Unit

I could not think of a kinder group of people who selflessly serve and accommodate families without much public recognition. I can play a piece of music and an audience of a thousand applauds. Yet, these nurses tenderly and quietly care for individuals and no one knows about it except those involved. Such acts of kindness and service are the miracles distributed in the medical community.

In The News

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

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Paul Cardall recovery a 'miracle'
Heart recipient comes home far earlier than doctors had expected

By Carrie A. Moore
Deseret News
Published: September 10, 2009
Photo by Jeffery R. Allred, Courtesy of The Deseret News

As pink and red heart-shaped balloons bob in the breeze outside their home, Paul and Lynnette Cardall are examining prescription bottles inside.

There's a new heart beating in Paul's chest. Lynnette's heart, for the first time in more than a year, is finally beginning to rest easy.

The Utah musician and his wife came home from the hospital on Wednesday, weeks before anyone had believed would be possible after Paul's heart transplant two weeks ago at Primary Children's Medical Center.

Doctors had told them it would be five to six weeks before he would be strong enough to unplug all the oxygen and IV lines so he could walk away a free man, but as he has done so many times before, Cardall surprised them all.

Before his recent surgery, the 36-year-old husband and father was the oldest Utah patient with his specific type of congenital heart disease to have survived to his age without a transplant. To have him home so soon, and without experiencing any major complications, "is a dream come true. It's just a miracle," Lynnette Cardall said.

Before leaving the hospital, the couple was shown Cardall's old heart, "a football-sized" organ he said he had been lucky to live so long with, considering it was only about half-functional. He said that as he held a portion of it in his hands, turning it over and over and examining the stitches from past surgeries, that was the moment when he "truly understood that somebody else is clearly in charge of our lives."

Future medical students at the University of Utah will hold his old heart in their hands also as a learning tool to help understand congenital heart disease, even as Cardall continues on a series of anti-rejection drugs to keep his body from rejecting the new organ.

READ THE ARTICLE

BlessMyLife.org

I received an e-mail worth sharing with you from my good friend's Rob & Alexis Duffin. Together Rob and his wife have created an uplifting website about the daily miracles in our lives. (As a studio engineer Rob's worked on several of my recordings. I appreciate his optimism.) www.blessmylife.org

To Our Friends:

We were recently exposed to yet another website that provides people with an outlet for blogging about negative life experiences. Though the intent of that site is meant to be humorous, it only increased our desire for a medium that inspires positive thinking. Blessings seem to be more abundant when we recognize them with gratitude.

We are excited to introduce our site, Bless My Life, Where Miracles Are a Daily Occurrence (www.blessmylife.org).

We have created this site to provide you with a place to share your daily miracles and blessings. We hope that by providing you with a place to share your daily, life-enhancing moments that more of these moments will be recognized in all of our lives.

We’re excited to have a positive force for good in the world and we invite you to be a part of it!

Love, Rob and Alexis Duffin
www.blessmylife.org

Miracles by Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass (1855)

Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love--or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds--or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down--or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring;
Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best--
mechanics, boatmen, farmers,
Or among the savans--or to the soiree--or to the opera,
Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery,
Or behold children at their sports,
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old woman,
Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,
Or my own eyes and figure in the glass;
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring--yet each distinct, and in its place.

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same;
Every spear of grass--the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women,
and all that concerns them,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

To me the sea is a continual miracle;
The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships,
with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

by Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (1855)

False alarm. Staying home!

(This is what I sometimes do at the Children's hospital while I wait to have my labs drawn. Of course, the kids boot me off.)

False alarm. And I apologize for crying wolf again but now I am not moving into the hospital on Monday. We met with doctors today an apparently my body is no longer anemic and my protein levels have improved. We did not think that would happen. However, two weeks ago I was infused over a 5 day period with some iron to help improve my blood and give me strength. So this wonderful miracle is great news!

But, it is temporary good news. And again I may find myself up in the hospital with more challenges. You mentally prepare yourself for something and then things change. Life is unpredictable but it keeps moving along for all of us. I love it! And although I have anxieties with waiting for a heart I am truly blessed and grateful for the gift of life.

I am feeling good. So I'll just enjoy this time.

But what a roller coaster!