Last month, I underwent a TLIF operation. That stands for transforaminal lumbar interbody fusion of my S1, L5, L4, L3 vertebrae. Due to an injury years before, my lower vertebrae were "stair-stepping" over top of one another and severe arthritis in those facet joints had resulted in my lower spine weakening and collapsing on itself. After failed attempts of therapy, lumbar injections, electrical implant, and even acupuncture, this was my only option. The neurosurgeon explained how the decayed bone in facet joints would be removed, vertebrae pairs would be separated, and the disc removed and replaced with a titanium cage. When everything was back in alignment, titanium screws would be inserted in the back of each vertebrae and connected to titanium rods running the entire lower third of my spine. My surgery was scheduled for early in the morning and was the only one for the day due to its long surgical time.

I remember going into the surgery room but the next I recall was waking up in 5th Floor Surgical Recovery early evening in what was to be my home for the week. I remember my wife and daughter being present, but then I heard a voice saying, "Hi D, how are you feeling?" I didn't recognize it, but then a hand touched my shoulder, and the voice was closer, saying, "I'm Rachel, and I will be with you all night." That was how we met and my experience with one of the most skilled, compassionate nurses I have ever known began.

I have farmed my whole life, among other pursuits, but farming was my passion, and in the process, like so many other individuals, I wore out a lot of parts. I have had cervical neck fusion, total joint replacement in both hips, a torn rotator cuff, bicep tendon, and shoulder rebuild, and arthroscopic knee surgery for a torn meniscus and cartilage. I relate this laundry list of injuries only to emphasize that I am no stranger to different hospitals, doctors, and many different nurses. I survived the first night, and as morning approached, Rachel said shift change was approaching, but she would return that evening and be with me all week. She became my rock to cling to and my inspiration to help the painful hours pass. Days in the hospital are completely different from evenings. Days are comprised of labs drawn several times, the dreaded physical therapy twice daily, occupational therapy and several other individuals that I really don't remember why they came. In addition, you must eat three meals from the cafeteria. If you don't order, they come to your room and take your order in person. Ask me how I know. As the shift change drew near, I made sure I was lying on my left side so I could face the door and the lights turned out so I could rest. It wasn't long before there would be a gentle knock and the door to my darkened room would swing open and there was this dark silhouette backlit against the bright hallway. "Hi D, it's me. How was your day?" My nights were precious because that was when my healing, both physically and mentally, truly took place. Rachel would bring me up to date from the day nurses' report. She explained everything in detail, including the milestones I had reached and what that meant, and also the hurdles I had yet to face. The entire time I was amazed at the sure, deft efficiency she demonstrated as she adjusted machines, IV lines, my drain line and things as simple as just moving to get more comfortable. It was not just muscle memory in her movements; she was a professional. I was not naive enough to believe I was her only patient but she certainly made me feel that way. She had help, and I would like to name two who impressed me.

I came to recognize the cadence of her footsteps and the sound of her voice as she interacted with other staff in the hallway. I never heard her complete a sentence without the words Thank you or Please in there somewere. This was how my week progressed, busy, exhausting days that shifted into peaceful, informational learning evenings. Rachel was my eternal cheerleader and mentor. Explaining things about my surgery, my recovery, and my future expectations. One evening, she seemed especially pleased with the improvement in the status of my incision drain. She said the color and output were good indicators that I might be released that weekend. Early morning I was sitting on the edge of my bed clumsily eating breakfast and she appeared in the hallway outside my door. She cocked her head, gave a beaming smile, and waved. That was the signal her shift was over, and she was heading home. That was the last time I saw her. About three hours later, I was discharged and headed home. Don't misunderstand me, I was delighted to be going to familiar walls and my own bed. But something gnawed in my stomach that I did not say goodbye and express my thanks to one of the most special people I have met. That is why I am nominating Rachel Tebon for the DAISY Award.

I believe she exhibits the very qualities the award was created to accentuate. She places her patient's total care in mind and body above all else. Her knowledge and attitude are expressed not only through her personally, but are also reflected in the relationships she demonstrates with coworkers and the teamwork she has mentored. I am sure the Barnes family would agree. My wife and I raised three boys and a daughter on our farm, but they all chose different career paths and each has been very successful in their own choice. That little girl stated at the age of three that she was going to be a nurse, not just any nurse, a nurse who delivered babies. She accomplished that goal and much more. Today, that little girl is the Director of Nursing in Birthing Suites. If you combine this experience with my above mentioned hospital excursions I have met a few nurses. In my opinion, Rachel is very deserving of this award and ranks among the best of the very best. Her extraordinary compassion and commitment will never be monetized by Finley, there is no billable line item, and Medicare will never reimburse for her extra efforts. But people like Rachel make Finley Hospital stand apart from other caregiving facilities. I have a selfish reason for Rachel's nomination for the DAISY Award. I will always have my visions of that little dark silhouette standing in the doorway of my darkened room, and one of dashing past in the hallway, stopping to smile and wave. I want to see her in front of her peers, coworkers, administrators, and family receiving the recognition and acknowledgement that she is appreciated.