A nurse named Liz

It's late and Robert is very restless and feeling the effects of all the medications. I ring for a PCA for help. A young woman answers the bell and tells me it is shift change, the next PCA will help. And she leaves! Then she comes back with someone else.

They assess the situation and say they will be right back and walk out. This has never ever happened before. It is like evil gremlins have taken over for the night.

I am feeling panicky. Robert has insisted on getting out of bed and he is unstable on his feet and I know I cannot manage the situation on my own. I'm trying to support him and look for the call button. It is on the other side of the bed. As I struggle to hold him and reach across the bed I am seething with rage. I ring the bell again.

A nurse calmly walks in and asks me what I need. I quickly explain the situation and she says not a problem. With Liz's help we strip the bed, remake it and get Robert back in and settled.

Liz then looks at the clock and says, (I love this part of the story and I am not making it up)  "Oh it's midnight, I have to go. I am taking another patient down to radiology." And out the door she flys.

A short time later our night shift nurse comes to check in and make sure everything is okay. I tell her what happened and ask her to thank Liz again for me.

"Liz? I don't know any nurse named Liz." In the morning I check with the charge nurse to express my appreciation for Liz. No one knows a nurse named Liz.