It was an incredibly stressful day filled with unexpected events: my husband had an episode at the Rehab Unit, was transferred to Watervliet ED, diagnosed with multiple bilateral pulmonary emboli, and then transported by ambulance to acute care in St. Joe. When I arrived at his PCU room around midnight, I found him completely disrobed, attended by three young women.

My husband, 77 years old and 250 pounds of the pure John Wayne type, was at ease and unembarrassed. Shirlyn and her students were embodying calmness, gentleness, and caring as they followed her direction. My eyes filled with tears, moved by the respectful and dignified manner in which my husband was being cared for.

I inquired about Shirlyn's career path, and she shared her initial aspiration to be a surgeon, yet here she was performing what might seem like the most menial, unpleasant task a nurse could undertake. While her colleagues may find this story unsurprising, it was a profound revelation for us, and we extend our heartfelt gratitude to her.