I had been on a journey to become a living kidney donor for my dad, who had been in ESKD since November 2024. In June, I received word that I was compatible, and by the end of the month, I had a surgery date set for July 2025. As a teacher, I knew right then and there, my dad's life hung in the balance of months of testing and evaluation, leading up to surgery, and that my recovery would take place over my summer break.

Once the surgery date was set, I worked hard to visualize the procedure. I pored over YouTube surgeries that mirrored a live-donor kidney transplant situation like mine. I knew how the surgeons might approach my kidney removal, and I had a vague idea of how my body might react days, weeks, months, and years after a kidney donation. Being a lifelong athlete, my mental state of preparation was going to help support any adversity, pain, or intolerance I might have endured post-surgery. Previous to this surgery, I was confident my experience with two cesareans within two years of each other was additional information I could draw upon to help prepare my body physically. Recovery would be slow, I would allow my body to heal, and I would listen to my doctors and nurses. Seemed pretty straightforward.

Enter Nurse Karel in South Wing 5 at Baystate Medical Center in Springfield, Mass. Admittedly, the surgery rocked me. The hours immediately following surgery were the most challenging. Even though I was comfortably medicated, the feeling in my body was, in fact, unlike my cesareans in so many different ways that I couldn't get ahead of it mentally. My overall reaction was something greatly internal that I was unfamiliar with. Still, in the hours that followed, I received the most gentle care. So much so that it was very much like being back on the Labor and Delivery floor again. This time, I noticed the small details of Karel's care were the ones that made the biggest difference. For example, whenever I got up from my bed, the bed pad, sheets, and blankets that I was intertwined with went haywire. Because I had to use a walker initially to pull myself up, the bedding situation was regularly chaotic. Walking was good, and Karel would gently lead me into the bathroom. While I was in there, I could hear the brisk walk of her feet across the floor, and the quiet hustle of her intercom clipped around her neck - I knew she was up to something. And every time I returned to my room, or came out from the bathroom, my bed was level, neatly made back up, with my personal blanket from home folded open, welcoming me back in - almost like a hug.

Beyond her special skill at making me feel cozy and at home in the hospital environment, I never had to ask Karel for refills on ice chips or the drinks I requested. She took only one order. After that, she ensured my cups were never empty and went as far as offering my family members who were visiting the opportunity to place their own orders. She promptly removed trash and waste from my bedside counter so it wouldn't be 'too overcrowded' for me. She was attentive and intuitive to my pain, and would quietly come in to wake me - if needed- to help adjust my comfort level. Her hands were never cold or rough. She always smiled and offered encouragement when my mental state seemed a bit downtrodden.

I was legitimately disappointed when there was a shift change, simply because I'd miss the nurturing and motherly touches that Karel offered me in her short time as my nurse. It felt like I was staying with a family member, and the small details I noticed about Karel's care simply weren't carried over by my new nursing crew.

It was very apparent in the days that followed that when I got up from my bed, whether via a walk or a trip to the bathroom, the bed chaos remained, well, chaotic. I found myself stooped over, tilting and adjusting the bed like she had, because it was a comfortable angle. I even found myself remaking my bed and opening my own personal blanket, just as she had, simply because it was the comforting, hug-like appeal that made me feel better. I became aware that the trash on my bedside table would remain there until it was too full, and I would have to request that it be cleared. There were multiple evenings that followed where I was woken up every 2 hours for meds, vitals, or blood, and it wasn't gentle.

I had the opportunity to visit with Karel about 3 weeks post-op. I had written her a card expressing my gratitude for her specialized care. The moment she came around the corner and I met her eyes, my body immediately became overwhelmed with great joy. I was finally able to hug her. Hugging Karel felt exactly the same as the care I received after donating my kidney. Nurturing and comforting, she held me up in the moment. She asked about my recovery-but also asked about my Dad, and then asked about my mom and other family members she had interacted with during my time in the hospital. It was the personal attention that she gave that made the hard part of the journey feel better.

I know she will be a permanent fixture in this chapter of my life, and as I recover, I can only wish that individuals in my position have the opportunity to receive the loving and gentle bedside manner of Nurse Karel.