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“You just have to keep the faith in medicine’s ability.” My really good friend who’s a doctor said this to me and I tried really hard to remember this as I just sat numb in a surgical waiting area.

I was spellbound as I watched the second hand move around the clock with precision and momentum, trying to stay focused on only the positive. Never before has the motion of a clock captured my attention like this.

Sitting and waiting and watching the clock. A minute seemed like hours, an hour like days, just sitting and waiting. Too numb to read or write, too numb to watch TV, too numb to eat, too numb to even skim through a tabloid magazine; too numb to do anything but to watch the clock, wait, think and cry. The waiting time for the family during which someone is having open heart surgery seems to drag on and on. It’s the most frightening, emotionally exhausting, distressing time; the waiting time, wondering how the surgery is going, praying for no complications. It’s a time that I do not want to ever experience again. It’s a time when life at that moment has no control. The control remains with the surgeons and nurses in the OR. As a registered nurse, I was thinking as a nurse, knowing exactly what could go wrong and this was making this waiting time even more difficult. At this moment, I was a family member; I wasn’t a nursing supervisor in control. I simply was someone who was clearly experiencing the other side of nursing. I was a family member, one who just waited.

As I sat, and pondered and tear drops rolled down my face, wondering if my loved one was going to be okay, I heard footsteps fade as someone approached me to see if I was okay. That someone happened to be the Director of Nursing, Scott Croonquist, MSN, RN, Director of Cardiac Service Line and Critical Care Nursing at New York Presbyterian Hospital-Weill Cornell Medical Center, and he stopped in his path and sat next to me to simply ask if I was okay. Somehow those words, made time relevant again. Those words, so simple somehow brought comfort to me. The simple act of his compassion at that moment seemed to relieve any stress I was feeling. For that brief moment I felt in control again.

Once I got some clarity I also remembered the words of my good doctor friend, who said, “you just have to keep the faith in medicine’s ability.” Those words were also simple but were extremely powerful and helped me through a very harrowing time. I also remember the team of residents, fellows and nurses who were in constant communication prior surgery.

Those agonizing hours soon came to a halt when I noticed the surgeon, Dr. Salemi walking down the hall ready to share the outcomes of surgery. At that moment, time seemed to stand still; I was trying to read the face of the surgeon before he began to speak; and the words that echoed in my head were about keeping the faith in medicine’s ability, and as I muttered those to myself the words of the surgeon were music to my ears, “the surgery went well.” The caring and compassionate side of the surgeon was evident throughout the hospital stay.

The team of surgeons, the nurses, the director, are all experts in terms of caring and treating patients, but the passion that shines through, makes all the difference. Yes, amazing things are happening there. When passion and medicine meet, it’s a very good thing.

Even 30 seconds of time can ease a person’s wait or smooth the worry involved with serious health concerns. That’s why, as the nurse spokesperson for CareSeek, I take the time to recommend those wonderful compassionate doctors I have met along the way. I hope my time will ease someone else’s angst by giving them confidence in their choice of providers.

Barbara Ficarra, RN, BSN,MPA
Healthin30.com