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Nurses
are Angels Stories, poems, thoughts and letters from patients and nurses who have touched each others lives in special ways. NAA is created and maintained by Christy Gerber Jones, an RN at Miami Valley Hospital, Dayton, Ohio. |
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Nursing Poems
Submit poems for this
page. We attempt to verify when authorship is claimed,
however NAR take no
responsibility for poems
submitted under false names.
The Cute Little Lady in The
Pink Sweater
By Dawn
Maselli, RN
They can take my meal
away before I'm done
They can talk to me like I'm dumb
They can refer to me as a "Feeder"
Fluff me up to make me look neater
They talk about me like I'm not Here
They address me as "honey" "cutie and "dear".
But there are things they can't do to me
As they insult my dignity
Oh there are things they can't do to me
They can't take away my memories
My Roles through this life cement my presence
With withered mind they call senescence
I am rich in culture, wisdom and knowledge
That medical people can't learn in college
I am a mother, a sister, a historian, a wife
I have mastered many roles throughout my life
I created warm meals in my day
I wiped my children's tears away
I cared for a close knit family
Who look up to and value me
And now I master another role
Dependent patient with golden soul
If just one of "them" would sit with me
I'd share with them this history
And if one would stay awhile
I'd teach them that I'm still God's child.
They are so busy this I know
I have aged and have gotten slow
This I must share in written word
I may not be seen but I will be heard
They say I'm anxious, noisy and loud
This life has taught me not to be too proud
I am too many things to capture in a letter
I am so much more than the lady in the pink sweater
If you've listened from the start
I may help you find your heart.
Assignment
By Kim Jordan RN
I have nine patients, you are but one
I will walk five miles before I am done
Tiptoeing in and out of the rooms
Darkened and quiet like silent tombs
I try not to wake you, for there is no time
When trying to divide eight hours by nine.
It
is my duty
Dawn
Butler, RN
(Pennsylvania)
I walk through those doors with pride,
Who's
life will i save tonight?
Someone
is waiting for me,
Someone
is alive today because of my duty.
Sometimes
we cry cause we can't save them all,
God
sometimes won't let us interfere when he calls.
A
baby's first breath when he looks at me,
The
joy of my first delivery.
The
tear i wipe a way with my own hands,
The
life ending of a gentle old man.
The
night seems so dark and the morning so bright.
Being
a nurse you see
life in a different light.
Who
will i save tonight?
Who
will hold my hand
during their last breath with no fright?
Who
will enter this world on my shift?
How
many mothers will
greet their babies with a kiss?
I
don't know who these special people are
but
i will meet them with every call
I
will hold them tight and help the pain
I
will hold them up when they feel faint.
I
will be strong when i am needed
That
is my job, I am a nurse..that is my duty.
Lily of The Valley
By Paul Lawrence Dunbar.
At the time this was written,
the Miami Valley Hospital School of Nursing
flower was the
Lily-of-theValley and Paul Lawrence Dunbar has just been
a patient at the hospital.
This was his tribute to the students.
Sweetest of the flowers a blooming
In the fragrant vernal days,
Is the Lily-of-the-Valley
With its soft retiring ways.
Well, you chose this humble blossom,
As the Nurse's emblem flower
Who grows more like her idea
Every day and every hour
Like the Lily-of-the-Valley
In her honesty and worth -
Oh! She blooms in truth and virtue
In the humble works of earth.
Though she stands erect in honor
When the heart of mankind bleeds,
Still she hides her own deserving
In the beauty of her deeds.
In the silence and the darkness,
When no eye may see or know,
There her footsteps shod with mercy
and fleet kindness, come and go.
Not amid the sound of plaudits,
Not before the garish day;
Does she shed her soul's sweet perfume,
Does she take her gentle way.
But alike her ideal flower,
With its honey-laden breath;
Still her heart blooms forth its beauty
In the valley shades of death.
Assignment
By Kim Jordan, RN
I have nine patients, you are but one
I will walk five miles before I am done
Tiptoeing in and out of the rooms
Darkened and quiet like silent tombs
I try not to wake you, for there is no time
When trying to divide eight hours by nine.
Look Closer - A Nurse's Reply
By Liz Hogben
This was sent in by Mrs B Boyle.
I came across this poem, when my mother was in
the nursing home it was place in the rooms there, believe it's a reply to the poem, "A Young Girl Still Dwells"
What do we, you ask, what do we see ?
Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee!
We may seem to be hard when we hurry and fuss,
But there's many of you and too few of us.
We would like far more time to sit by you and talk,
To bath you and feed you and help you to walk,
To hear of your lives and the things you have done;
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son,
But time is against us, there's too much to do-
Patients too many and nurses too few.
We grieve when we see you so sad and alone,
With nobody near you, no friends of your own.
We feel all your pain, and know of your fear
That nobody cares now your end is so near.
But nurses are people with feelings as well,
And when we're together, you'll often hear tell
Of the dearest old Gran in the very end bed,
And the lovely old Dad, and the things that he said,
We speak with compassion and love, and feel sad
When we think of yours and the joy that you've had.
When the time has arrived for you to depart,
You leave us behind with an ache in our heart.
When you sleep the long sleep, no more worry or care,
There are other old people, and we mist be there.
So please understand if we hurry and fuss--
There are many of you and too few of us.
I Gave My First Injection Today
Sent in by Misspr@aol.com
I gave my first injection today,
now wait before you get bored and want to walk away
its been a long road to get where I'm at,
15 years to be precise now what do you think of that?This has been my life's dream to take care of the sick and work with a team of caring professionals with all the same goal of ridding aches and pains and doing work that's not in vain.
So maybe now I have your attention so I can tell you my story and you possibly won't find it so boring
I gave my first injection today
and my patient didn't flinch
she said she didn't feel a thing.
What a wonderful compliment that she gave to me
"a wonderful nurse you are going to be".I also passed meds and cleaned lots of wounds and held alot of hands before I walked from the rooms.
You wonder how can I be so happy in all this misery?
you see I guess I see it different than the average Joe,
before you think I am crazy just let me explain.
If I can ease just one pain or dry just one eye or offer just one daughter some comfort when she finds out her mother has just died.
I have accomplished my task and have been successful in my goals
to have offered a hand when life has taken its tolls.See I have been truly blessed to have touched these lives and pray I never find it boring or bothersome to do the meaningless of task.
Even when the most trying of patients call and ask.
My goal is to answer every time with a smile
and ask for forgiveness when I can't
after I have gone mile after mile.
Have I told you yet I gave my first injection today.
I am a student nurse and for dedication I pray.
An Old Lady's Poem
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when
the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem.
Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and
distributed to every nurse in the hospital.One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity
has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the
North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also
been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. ... And this little old
Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of
this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet. Goes to show that we all
leave "SOME footprints in time".....What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is missing a stocking or shoe.....
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill....
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten ... with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman ... and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years .... all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
<>Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within ...... We will one day be there, too!
Not a crabby old woman; look closer ... see ME!!
One Angel - No Wings
By Babs Hurst©
I
worked the graveyard shift last night
Oh my god, I saw some sights!
I had a constant stream of admissions
Mostly old, with chronic conditions
Gout
and asthma, and a few heart pains
Even a sprinkling of varicose veins
People yelling and wetting their beds
Sending us nurses off our heads
Someone
let out a ripping fart
Made me gasp … and clutch my heart
Then a snort, a grunt, a yelp
Those people really should get help!
That
lady in the farthest bed
She was so pale I thought she was dead
Her pallor was just a trick of light
My god!! she sure gave me a fright
I
worked my butt off, as per usual
Charts, charts, charts for my perusal
B/P's were done - standing and lying
I weighed them all and felt like crying
I
wiped up shit and dished out pans
Then rubbed some butts with my caring hands
I did the obs, the whole damn lot
Gave morning meds then cleaned the grot
So
there I was earning my crust
Even though I cursed and cussed!
I am an Angel dressed in white
Walking the ward in the midst of night
I Am A Student Nurse
Submitted by Boyd Williams
I am
a student nurse
I promise to be brave
I graduate in May
I am
a student nurse
I will not show them I am afraid
I will pretend that I have done this a million times or more
So my patients will feel at ease when I am on the floor
I am
a student nurse
I promise to be brave
I graduate in May
The
Nurse
Submitted by Frank Paylor of Sudbury,
Ontario, Canada
When you are feeling sick, or worse,
thank your dear Maker for your nurse
Whose tender care and ministrations
are worth sincere congratulations.
The shattered limb, the fevered brow
are much the same to her somehow.
There is a need, a chance to heal,
to ease the pain that you might feel.
Through all those precious smiles
and words of comfort, as she tends
With all her sharpened skills and guiles
without complaint, she mends.
Then there comes the day
when you are sent upon your way
-- and you discover, in the end,
that you have had a pleasant visit
with a very special friend.
The
Proverbs 31 Nurse
By Lois Sigmon Turley, RN
Who can find a good natured Nurse?
For her price is far above silver and
gold.
She seeks medicines and skills,
and works willingly with others.
She gives of herself
and considers her own desires last.
A heartwarming smile is hers,
and is made beautiful in her eyes.
She girds herself with honor
and strengthens her ability with patience.
She perceives that her work is good.
Her candle does not go out by night.
She lays her hands upon understanding.
She stretches out her hand to the poor;
yet, she reaches forth hands to the needy.
She is not afraid of sorrow,
for her trust is in God.
Pride and humility are her clothing,
and she shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens her mouth with comfort,
and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
Her associates rise up and call her
blessed;
her patients also praise her kindness.
Many daughters have helped others,
but you excel them all.
Favor is deceitful,
and beauty is vain.
But a Nurse that
fears the Lord --
She shall be praised!
What is a Nurse?
By Fred Berk, Hospital Photo Guild
If you must get sick, a Nurse is
the nicest thing that can happen to you.
Nurse come in all sizes, shapes, colors
and ages.
Efficiently cheerful, they will rustle
past you many times a day.
When Hercules cleaned the Augean
Stables, he set a standard which the Nurse surpasses each day.
Buoyed by an immense sympathy for mankind
and undismayed by experiences with particular members of that, at
times, cantankerous race, they perform miracles of devotion with
effortless cheer.
When you rub your Alladin's Lamp (or sound your buzzer) your little Genie appears. Perhaps they have been summoned needlessly a dozen times already. But they are cheerfully ready to soothe you, to help you down your medicine, to smooth down your bed, to answer your fears.
The Nurse is the Doctor's guard against forgetfulness, his questioning conscience, at times his challenge, and at all times his skilled right arm.
Their charming cap (well, use to be anyway) perches undisturbed through the roughest day. They have no self for themselves. Their all is for their patients. If they are short with one patient, it is because they are pressing to return to the one whose need is greater.
The Big Show (life itself) must go on. This is the Nurse's creed, their battle, their drive. They will fight to the end with every trick, every knowledge, ever passion.
At the end of the day, the Nurse returns home, physically weary, but with their inner light glowing brightly, for they have richly earned the peace within themselves.
If you must get sick, you are mighty lucky to have a
Nurse happen to you.
Nurse Prayer
Unknown Author
Dear Lord, Grant me the Serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
and the Wisdom
to hide the bodies of those Doctors
I had to kill because they pushed me too
far....
Survivor Psalm
By Frank Ochberg, MD
and Gift From Within
I
have been victimized.
I was in a fight that was
not a fair fight.
I did not ask for the fight.
I lost.
There is no shame in losing
such fights, only in winning.
I have reached the stage of
survivor and am no longer a
slave of victim status.
I look back with sadness
rather than hate.
I look forward with hope
rather than despair.
I may never forget, but I need
not constantly remember.
I was a victim.
I am a survivor.
I'm
Sorry In Advance
By Linda
Leeson - Licensed Practical Nurse Vernon Jubilee Hospital
Vernon. B.C. Canada
Your
beds not made today
But I have a patient here
Whose chest pain
won’t go away
I’m sorry in advance
You’re not happy with your meal
Dietary does try hard sir,
To give it some appeal
I’m sorry in advance
Your morning pills are late
I’ve a patient climbing out of bed
That I must try to sedate
I’m sorry in advance
Your mattress isn’t soft
We do need some new beds ma’am
But these things do cost a lot.
I’m sorry in advance
I didn’t get to comb your mothers hair
I’ve a patient with emphysema
She’s scared, she can’t get air
I’m sorry in advance
Your fathers still in pain
I’m trying to reach his doctor
I’ll have to try again
I’m sorry in advance
Your dressings aren’t yet done
But a patient has just passed away,
I offered solace to his son,
I’m sorry in advance
I’m not cheery as a bird
I’ve worked 12 hours, my feet ache
I asked for help,
but no one heard
I’m sorry in advance
I’ve only two hands and two feet
I’m trying to care for you, patient
Your needs, I want to meet
My 12 hours now are 16,
No replacement could be found
My aching feet they cry out
My head begins to pound
I’m sorry in advance
I cannot meet your gaze
My eyes are filled with tears
Your face is just a haze
If I could sit down for a minute
And maybe grab a bite
Phone my kids to say I love them
And I’ll be late again tonight
I’m sorry in advance
I didn’t do all that must be done
If I worked any faster
I’d soon begin to run
When I do get to hold your hand
Or wipe your furrowed brow
Please understand, dear patient
I care for you and how
I see your pain,
I sense your fear
Your anger in a glance,
Our health care service
is failing you
I’m sorry in advance.
Place Your Healing Touch In My
Hands
Unknown Author
Help
me as I care
for my patients today,
Be there with me,
O Lord, I pray
Make my words kind
--it means so much--
And in my hands place
Your healing touch
Let your love shine
through all that I do,
So those in need
may hear and feel You.
A Nurse's Prayer
Unknown Author
I
dedicate myself to thee,
0 Lord, my God, this work I undertake
Alone in thy great name, and for thy sake.
In ministering to suffering I would learn
The sympathy that in thy heart did burn.
Take, then, mine eyes, and teach them to perceive
The ablest way each sick one to relieve.
Guide thou my hands, that e'en their touch may prove
The gentleness and aptness born of love.
Bless thou my feet, and while they softly tread
May faces smile on many a sufferer's bed.
Touch thou my lips, guide thou my tongue,
Give me a work in sermon for each one.
Clothe me with patience, strength all tasks to bear,
Crown me with hope and love, which know no fear,
And faith, that coming face to face with death
Shall e'en inspire with joy the dying breath.
All through the arduous day my actions guide,
All through the lonely night watch by my side,
So I shall wake refreshed, with strength to pray,
Work in me, through me, with me, Lord, this day.
Dedicated To The Man I
Never Knew©
I work at Good Samaritan (Dayton, Ohio) on the neurology unit. I love
your site. You have done a wonderful job. Thank you for sharing with
us. Here is a poem I have written.
As I
tend to you, in your death.
I feel I know you, by those you left.
You must have been, a wonderful man.
The strengh and character, of your clan
I
see love, deep in their eyes.
The pain they feel is no disquise.
The gentle way , they touch your hand.
As you are drifting, to the promised land.
Your
children talked, of being raised.
Respect and devotion, lived at your place.
Grateful to God, they appeared to be.
Happy to be a part of your family.
Your
wife's heart, is beating loud.
Tears well up, her eyes did cloud.
Unable to speak, she begins to cry.
Begging to God, to not let you die.
So
you see, my friend, this life is past.
But the values you left, will always last.
Though I never knew you, I know you well.
Your life, your love, their eyes did tell.
Dedicated
to the patients that I have attended to over
the years.
Although I might not know them when they first arrive the love and
devotion of their families tell their true story. Regretfully not all
patients
survive, but the love they have given their family will last a
lifetime.
An Old Woman
(Note: This poem was found in the bedside table of an elderly woman
living in an extended care facility upon her death.)
What
do you see nurses,
What do you see?
Are you thinking,
When you look at me;
A crabbit old woman,
Not very wise
Uncertain of habit,
With far away eyes,
Who dribbles her food,
And makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice
'I do wish you'd try',
Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe,
Who, unresisting or not,
Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding,
The long day to fill,
Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse.
You're not looking at me.
As I'll tell you who I am,
As I sit here so still,
As I rise at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten
With a mother and father
Brothers and sisters,
Who love one another,
A young girl of sixteen,
With wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now
A lover she'll meet;
A bride soon at twenty;
My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows
That I promised to keep;
At twenty-five now
I have young of my own,
Who need me to build
A secure, happy home.
A young woman of thirty,
My young now grow fast,
Bound to each other
With ties that should last;
At forty, my young ones,
Now grown, will soon be gone,
But my man stays beside me,
To see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more,
babies play round my knee.
Again we know children,
My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me,
My husband is dead,
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread,
For my young are all busy,
Rearing young of their own,
And I thin of the years
And the love I have known.
I'm an old woman now,
And nature is cruel.
'tis her jest to make old age
To look like a fool.
The body is crumbled,
Grace and vigor depart.
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass,
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living
Life over again.
I think of the years,
All too few,
Gone to fast,
And accept the stark fact
that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses,
Open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman;
Look closer ... see ME.
At Your Side He Will Remain
I love your website and enjoy reading the poem about the little boy
talking about his nurse. Here is a poem I wrote for the things we face.
I am a nurse in ICU and have been there for 8 years. I need God to help
me through the things I must deal with.
I
watch the tears fall of those who stand by.
I see their despair tearing them apart inside.
I feel so helpless as I watch at their side.
Trying to give hope, as my feelings I hide.
I want to tell them not to cry.
I want to say, "this is only a body - the soul shall never die."
At the time I know these words won't erase the pain.
Sometimes silence is better than words spoke in vain.
A gentle touch, a simple nod is all I can do -
except a prayer to our Father to see them through.
For I know His touch is gentle and will guide them through their pain,
and help them realize, at their side He will remain.
On Call
Anonymous
When
the beeper went off you were dreaming about running away from your
kid's ball game and your job and your home.
On
your way you review all the steps of pronouncement - you look for the
hospice death packet and think about what you will do and say.
They meet you at the door, quietly leading you to the room.
Everyone is silent, the lights are dim, they are waiting, expectantly.
On
the hospital bed lies a skeleton - a shell of a person - pasty in
color,
motionless. There is no heartbeat, no peripheral pulse, no respiration,
the eyes are open and fixed.
You
wonder who this person was, what she was like when
she was young,
what kind of suffering she endured. You tell the family that the
patient has died.
The
young girl begins to cry, her brother holds her, their mother - the
patient's
daughter - sits stoically next to the bed, hands folded in her
lap.
You
stop the CADD pump and gently remove the sub-q catheter. You turn off
the oxygen concentrator and remove the nasal cannula. You excuse
yourself
to make the phone calls.
The
family sits next to their now gone grandmother - touching her hands,
crying,
reassuring each other that they have done the best for her.
The
daughter, the spine (pillar?)of strength, is not crying but gently
talking to her children.
You
notify the doctor - he is sad, says he's known her
for 30 years, probably will
go to the funeral. You notify the minister who says he'll be right
there.
The
funeral director will arrive in 30 minutes. The daughter witnesses for
you as
you pour morphine and Percocet tablets into the toilet and flush.
Paperwork.
The
daughter tells you her mother suffered from cancer
for 20 years off and on
- but that the last 3 months were fast and painful until the hospice
nurses got the
pain under control with the CADD pump.
You
calculate what the cancer must have occluded, eroded, robbed, to cause
such pain. There is cachexia. There are pedal contractures.
The abdomen is grossly enlarged.
You
tell the daughter the good things you see - how beautifully the skin
has been kept,
not a hint of breakdown; how nice the hair looks, such an obvious sign
of the love
and devotion her mother has received.
The
two young children leave the room and you and the daughter bathe the
mother
one last time, change the linens, and make her comfortable.
You
talk to each other and to the body. The daughter begins to cry - you
hold her,
like the child she is at this moment - the child who no longer has a
mother.
The
doorbell rings, the funeral director has arrived. You encourage the
daughter and
her family to come into the dining room and have a cup of tea. You go
back to the
bedroom to assist with the transfer of the body into the funeral bag.
Such
finality when the zipper goes over the face - you
want to keep the family
delicately away from the sight of this. It is painful enough for you.
The
minister arrives. The family gathers in the living
room. They thank you for
being there and for giving up your sleep in their hour of need.
You
pack the loose medical supplies, strip the bed, break it down, gather
the
trash, turn out the bedroom light, and close the door. The equipment
company
will come in the morning for the larger supplies. You say good-bye and
leave.
Outside, alone in your car, you cry.
A
few months later at a mutual friend's wedding, you see the daughter.
When she sees you she smiles with sadness in her eyes.
You
smile back. She knows. You know. She knows you know. That is all. That
is enough.
© Christy Gerber-Jones. All
Rights Reserved. Coding,
format, and on-site content. All
stories
and contributions to Nurses Are
Angels become
the property of Christy Gerber Jones, RN. Any
reproduction, reprinting or distribution of
any or
parts of Nurses Are Angels without the permission
Christy
Jones, RN is prohibited. Reproduction
for personal
and/or non-profitable use is permissible,
with appropriate credit.