Mr. Red’s Christmas Experience
Some believe spending December holidays working at the hospital is annoying. Well, spending December holidays as a patient at a hospital 2,000 miles away from home takes it all. During the Christmas season of 2016, I met Mr. Red as one of my patient’s, in room 423, at the Oncology unit I work in. Mr. Red and his wife, who was always at the bedside, were visiting San Diego from Iowa, when Mr. Red felt sick and had to come into the Emergency Room; he was hospitalized with pancreatitis, a recurrent problem for him since he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a while back.
Mr. Red was a man with a personality that was difficult to discern; I could not tell when he was serious or when he was joking. His white hair and glasses, along with his face that lacked expression much of the time, aided in concealing his thoughts. At the hospital, we always encourage patients to go out of their room for occasional walks if they are able to. “We’re gonna go out, where do I check in when we get back from the beach?” Mr. Red asked me with a straight face. I turned to his wife in search of a grin that would give the joke away but she too had a serious face. Eventually, my perplexed face turning from Mr. Red to his wife and back, still trying to decipher the message, let them know I had no response. Mrs. Red was the first to break with a conservative laughter, excusing her husband by saying “He still has his sense of humor”. Imagine if he did not have it, I thought to myself. This humor of Mr. Red, masked behind a stern attitude, a lack of smile, and a rugged tone of voice, was something difficult to follow for me, but not for his wife who always played along with him. It is admirable how, despite his diagnosis and being hospitalized away from home over the holidays, Mr. Red still had the spirit to make an occasional joke.
Although Mr. Red’s personality did not invite one to, initially, have deep conversations with him, we ended up bonding rather quickly. During my care for him, we had conversation after conversation, beyond the initial “Where are you from and what do you do?” The time I spent in his room extended longer than what I needed to complete my tasks. I found myself actually just sitting there, talking with the man, not the patient, Mr. Red was. We spoke about dogs, showed him photos of mine, we talked about travel, about how Mr. and Mrs. Red met, his experiences as an English Professor, and countless other subjects through which we formed a link that went beyond the common nurse-patient relationship.
The following day I had the privilege to take care of Mr. Red again and an uncomfortable situation presented. Mr. Red was having certain test or procedure performed one day, and was questioning why were we not doing whichever test was next as soon as the results for the first were made available, and even considered discharging against medical advice, flying home, and continuing care there. When speaking about this with his attending physician at the bedside, his doctor stated there are hospitals that function the way Mr. Red was explaining, but those would be hospitals with more resources. I was not sure what to make of the doctor’s statement. I mean, I have limited experience as a Registered Nurse, and I’ve only worked at this hospital, so I’m not quite sure what he meant by “more resources”.
After the doctor left the room, Mr. Red seemed upset and asked me, with his now familiar monotone voice, without directly looking at me, but rather staring at the wall:
“Luis, have you ever watched the movie ‘One Flew Over the Cukoo’s Nest’ with Jack Nicholson?”
I told Mr. Red I had not, and he began comparing his current situation to that of the patients in the movie, where they had unfavorable treatment by the hospital. Mr. Red went on to explain the rest of the movie to some detail and I noticed that, in doing so, he became relaxed and back to his normal ‘grumpy’ self. I liked the grumpy Mr. Red better.
I am not sure what happened to Mr. Red, but the next time I went in to work, he was not there anymore. Months later, I received a package sent directly to the hospital. The sender’s address: Iowa. As I opened the manila envelope, I had a mix of emotions. I was excited to hear something about him, but I was also fearful, knowing what his medical condition had been.
From every experience, I always try to take the positives. From Mr. Red in particular, I take the positive attitude and good humor despite the presence of adverse conditions, whether this ‘good humor’ is evident to others or not. It was heartwarming to see the unconditional support and love Mrs. Red displayed towards her husband, being an accomplice to every joke he had. Lastly, I am grateful for being a nurse and for the connections we have the privilege of being a part of with patients and families during times of trial.
Mr. Red’s envelope contained three things: A letter recognizing some of the staff members, which I made copies of and sent to said staff, a check for “pizza and beer” which I never cashed, and a DVD called “One Flew over the Cukoo’s Nest”.
