"Hi, I'm Florita. I get to be your nurse today."
Not "I am" your nurse, "I get" to be your nurse. This is how I met an angel the morning of my surgery. She cracked the door open and peered in at me with a beatific smile on her face and with that, I melted. 11 words and I was in tears. Why? Because I was steeling myself for surgery and Florita's greeting completely disarmed me. There was no need to be steely or strong. All it does is make you impenetrable and feel emotionally alone. I held my arms out to her for a hug and she walked straight into them, asking me what the tears were about. I admitted I was afraid.
"Of course, you're afraid S, you're about to have surgery. I'd be afraid, too. You can cry all you want. I'll sit here and cry with you."
Within seconds we were laughing. Fear evaporated into the joy of connection. Her healing company was all it took for me to travel from my head back into my heart. I don't have the Pulitzer Prize-winning words to convey the comfort she was to me the second I met her. She kept her wing over me until I was wheeled to the OR and by then I was ready and relaxed. Florita said she would see me soon and promised me the nurses in the OR would take good care of me. It was hard to say goodbye to this darling. I wanted to Velcro her to my bed.
When I returned to my room, she was there as promised, her kindness on full display. Florita's sense of humor, her presence, and her capacity to empathize assuaged the shock of having emergency surgery. Instead of it being a traumatic ordeal, I had a veritable picnic. It dawned on me the profound gift I was given and remembered a line from long ago: "An injury is not a process of recovery; it is a process of discovery."
I thought I came to the hospital for surgery only to discover I came to experience the power of love and to give it. I don't recall the moment it became crystal clear, but I recognized it as true.
Florita told me there were two things I'd have to accomplish before I could leave the hospital: walk and eat. I strolled the halls with a friend and downed some broth and cereal Florita had helped me order. She instructed me about the pain pills, how to reawaken my gut and to call in if I had any questions. We had a ball reading the discharge papers together especially the part about not making any big decisions while on pain meds.
I said, "Does this mean I can't accept any marriage proposals?"
She laughed, "Yes, S, that exactly what that means."
When I was released, it was a wrench to say goodbye to Florita. I've had surgery in two of the best medical centers in the world. I received great care at both, but no one remotely matched Florita in character, nursing skills, capacity to empathize, and quality of compassionate care.
Emerson said, "If one soul breathed easier because you lived, this is to have succeeded."
Florita can fold it right now. This soul not only breathed easier, I breathed, period. Her loving kindness, sensitivity, and caring heart are the hallmarks of a living breathing angel amongst us. She is a cove and a harbor. I was lucky to sail into her like a little boat needing safety in the storm.