I was just reminded of a St Patrick's Day when I was in my early 20's working at the nursing home. I was excited to get out of work to celebrate with my friends, but my last patient was an Irishman whose only wish was for a McDonald's Shamrock Shake. He was not diabetic, was considerably underweight and was a dear lonely soul. A disabled Veteran with no family, he was a bit of a curmudgeon. I always gave extra love to those who were rough on the edges. I knew they needed it more than anyone.
Much to his surprise I came back to his room about an hour later with an extra large Shamrock Shake for him. His eyes were wide and his smile was so big! He reached his bony hands out for the plastic cup and awkwardly fit the straw into his mouth. You should have seen his face; he was in Seventh Heaven. He drank about 1/4 of it and then asked to me to put in the unit fridge. He would sip on the rest in the morning.
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The next morning I came in to work and learned that he had passed in the night. I was at the nurse's station with tears in my eyes, unprepared for such news. The Charge Nurse, my superior, took me by the shoulders and with a sharp glare shook me to my senses. "You can't go getting upset every time someone dies here! People are always going to be dying here! " Well, it was not the last time I cried over losing someone. I was so glad I did that for him.
Now that I know what I know about nutrition, I can't help but wonder if I pushed him over the edge with all that sugar and sodium! ...But no, I actually think he was able to leave once he knew that someone cared...once he knew that he had been considered beloved and valued upon the earth.
Now that I know what I know about nutrition, I can't help but wonder if I pushed him over the edge with all that sugar and sodium! ...But no, I actually think he was able to leave once he knew that someone cared...once he knew that he had been considered beloved and valued upon the earth.
Walking Over the Bridge into Shamrock Heaven
