Weary and slightly bewildered from an unexpected month in the hospital, her eyes also shone with eagerness and relief that they were one big step away from going home, just in time for Christmas. But it was her poise that stood out to me. A quiet strength that carried the unbelievable story of an athlete suddenly losing function in her body, a strength that sustained her through each scary day of treatment, questions, and very few guarantees. 

“Hi, my name is Hui-wen. I came up from the ICU to take out that pheresis line at the side of your neck. You must be so excited to get this out!”

“Yes, we’ve been waiting all afternoon for this moment!”

“I promise I’ll explain what I’m doing every step of the way. You can stop me any time if you need a short break.”

As I slowly, gently peeled away the layers of tape that secured the large catheter at her neck, her mom watched from the side. 

“Thank you for being so gentle with her. All that tape has actually been one of the most uncomfortable things for her to deal with.”

I thought back to my post-op days after my lumpectomy, with my hematoma that required constant dressing and re-dressing of gauze and tape. How quickly I discovered that my skin only tolerated one particular type of surgical tape. Everything else was rough, or itchy, or surprisingly miserable for something so seemingly straightforward as tape.

“Isn’t it crazy how much tape we have to put on these things? I’m almost done with the last layer. Thank you for holding so steady.”

“Gracie,” her mom said, “after what you’ve been through this past month, you can do anything.”

I paused what I was doing and looked at Mom. “Well, both of you…” I offered. 

I saw Mom turn her head toward me in surprise. Her eyes met mine, and I saw her tears. “…Thank you,” she whispered. Her shoulders loosened slightly with my acknowledgment of the burden she had silently carried as well. Gracie had been the center of all the medical attention, but her mom had been on that journey as well, asked to summon her own deep courage in the dark night for both herself and her daughter. 

“Okay Gracie, I have all the tape off. This line is sutured into your neck with two small sutures. I’m going to use tweezers to lift each suture just slightly so that I can snip the thread, so you’ll feel a slight tugging. After I snip the thread, I’ll pull each thread out from your skin with the tweezers. It may tickle, but it shouldn’t hurt. I will try to be both gentle and quick.” 

“Mom… could you come and stand in front of me while she does this?”

For the first time in the ten minutes or so that I had been in the room, I heard nervousness in Gracie’s voice. I hoped to not make a liar out of myself. I hoped these steps would be as smooth and painless as I was promising.

“Gracie, do you have any pets at home waiting for your return?”

Her mom’s eyes lit up. “How did you know? Our puppy gets home this evening from his board and care. Everyone gets to come home tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s going to be the sweetest reunion!”

Gracie grinned.

“Ok, a small tug as I lift and snip this suture.”

I saw Gracie’s jaw tense, and she held her breath.

“Now I’m going to pull the string out. It will be very quick.”

I pulled the tiny four-centimeter suture out smoothly.

“Oh! That’s it?” 

“Yes that’s the first suture. Now I’ll do the same with the second.” I repeated the same steps with the second suture.

“Oh! That wasn’t bad at all!”

“Ok, we’re at the final step. I’m going to put this sterile gauze right where this line goes into your neck, and we’re ready to pull the line out.”

I saw Gracie’s face fall. “Ohhh… you haven’t pulled the actual line out yet.” 

“Oh sweet girl…I’m sorry. No, I only took the sutures out. Now it’s just the line.”

Gracie squeezed her eyes and pressed her lips together, and her hand reached out for her mom’s hand.

“Ok Gracie, I want you to take a really deep breath, and when I count to three, I want you to slowly exhale and I’m going to pull the line out.”

“Okay….”

“Deep breath, Gracie.”

She inhaled deeply.

“One…two…EXHALE!” As she breathed out, I pulled the six-inch line out of her neck with one fluid movement.

“It’s out! You’re all done! I’m going to put a dressing with really soft tape on your neck, but that’s it! You can finally go home!”

“Thank you again for being so gentle with her. We were so scared when we were first driving to the hospital a month ago. But now we can just take it easy and enjoy a quiet drive home.”

I wanted to linger with them, hear more of the details and nuances of their journey, but they needed to go on their way and so did I. I gazed at them, wished them a Merry Christmas, and tucked the moment away in my heart. It has not left me. 

Hospital work can be such a frenzy, where I’ve dehumanized and objectified my patients before I’ve even realized it, in my need to get so much done in so little time.

But these are the moments I hold onto. 

These are the moments that remind me, it is such a privilege to be a nurse.