It was interesting that during W's time in the PICU, a certain politician made some silly comment about how nurses just play cards at work. As I work alongside nurses every day, I knew this was not true. But I remember looking up at Ellen, who was effortlessly completing about 47 tasks at the same time and tried not to laugh. Because while Ellen is a great multi-tasker, I do not think she has time for cards throughout her day.
It was so evident to my husband and me that Ellen put her whole heart into caring for our son. This did not stop solely at his medical care. Yes, Ellen was W's nurse, but she was also our cheerleader, support system, and bodyguard (when visitors were not abiding by the low-stim rules). Even more impressive was how she skillfully balanced the line of knowing when my husband and I needed a hug and reassurance, and when we needed someone to tell us to pull ourselves together. While all the PICU nurses we had were wonderful and highly skilled, there was a lessening of anxiety when we would learn that Ellen was our nurse for the day. We knew that not only would we not have to advocate for W, but that Ellen would probably advocate for things that we wouldn't even think of. As a child life specialist, it was a bit of a hit to my ego to have a nurse advocate for pain medications before I even thought of it. To have someone that cares for your very sick child as much as we do was so touching and an amazing blessing.
This letter seems so underwhelming because Ellen did so much for us. But it's hard to put into words because it was less about what Ellen did and more about how Ellen made us feel. Ellen saved our son, but she also saved us.
If there were no such thing as inappropriate boundaries and if W didn't already have one, we would totally ask Ellen to be W's Godmother. Since we can't do that, we settled for nominating her for The DAISY Award.