As I reflect on this past year, many of you will recall that my home was hit by 1 of the 17 tornados that touched down in north Texas on April 3. I must admit this has been the most challenging life experience I have yet endured. Following the event, my daughter and I shared a hotel room for 73 days. We eventually were able to relocate to a rental home, but have had few of our belongings with us during the past 8 months. Battles with insurance and my mortgage company assured me that as a customer, I was not of concern. But despite the stress and frustrations of those who were only concerned about minimizing their obligations to me after this trauma, I had many who stepped in to meet my needs.
When the tornado hit, I was at the university teaching a systematic review research course to colleagues from across the country. As soon as the news reached me, my teaching associates immediately dismissed me from my obligations, volunteering to cover my responsibilities that week and sending me home with another faculty member to assure I was not alone. Arriving in my neighborhood, I found the streets were blocked with the huge oak trees and debris that had been picked up and dumped haphazardly by the power of the tornado. After making our way through the remnants of my neighborhood, climbing over trees and memories scattered recklessly everywhere the eye could see, my colleagues and I arrived to see that half of my roof was gone along with most of my beautiful, towering oak trees.
As a nurse, when a crisis is happening, I typically go into "prioritizing mode" to manage the crisis and support those who are suddenly not in control. This time, I was the one not in control. I walked into my home to survey the damage and could not begin to prioritize what needed to be done. I was numb. My nursing colleague from the university, however, filled the gap. She immediately began to direct the neighbors who were there wanting to help me to take some of my precious belongings to the back of the house where I still had a roof to protect them from the water damage. Others she directed to quickly move furniture from the damaged rooms to areas where the roof was still intact. Those interventions were fortuitous as additional ceiling collapsed in those areas within an hour due to the weight of the water overhead. Now as I am able once again to enjoy those treasures, I think of how my nursing colleague and neighbors stepped in to assure that I am able to enjoy the beauty and memories that were associated with each valuable.
The tornado hit on a Tuesday, which is usually my day to work from home. My daughter is usually home during midday as well. But on that day, we both were working unusual schedules-a reflection of God's hand on my life, I am convinced. All of my neighbors were home when the tornado hit, yet my house was the only one that was uninhabitable after the storm departed. Gratefully, they were all unharmed and most of the damage to their homes was from my debris. Part of my roof ended up in two of their living rooms!
Immediately after the tornado, several friends and colleagues made their way to my home bringing gloves, trash bags, tarps, and water to try to protect what was left. Community workers showed up from Home Depot, cutting away the huge trees that had been felled and that were blocking access to my home. They shoveled and carried the debris away from my home to the street by hand. City workers cleared the trees from the street within hours so that help could reach us. Our first responders rounded continuously to see that we were safe and what remained of our belongings were protected. My neighbors assured me that in my absence, they would watch over my home and remaining belongings.
I was especially touched when I received an e-mail from my university provost on the morning after the tornado assuring me that I did not need to worry about my work responsibilities in the days to come as the priority was for me to take care of my home and loved ones. Even the university chancellor phoned to convey his concern and care for me. The management team from the Society of Gastroenterology Nurses and Associates (SGNA) immediately delivered to my office a care package full of practical items, even thinking to include dog treats for my little bijon frise who endured the storm alone (she was subsequently cared for during my hotel occupancy by my wonderful assistant and her husband, a huge relief for me in those immediate days following the tornado). And my amazing Gastroenterology Nursing colleagues took it upon themselves to write a column to all of you sharing what had happened and lifting me up through their kind words of support and encouragement.
Recently, I was asked by a news anchor who was interviewing me on the six month anniversary of the tornado about my first reactions when I arrived at my home. I shared with her that while the reality of the situation was overwhelming, my honest first response was that my losses were just "stuff." I knew I could eventually replace everything I lost, but my family, pet, and neighbors were all safe so I was fantastically blessed despite the physical damage to my house.
In the months that followed, I have been supported by my family, friends, and professional colleagues from around the world; cared for by very honest businessmen who have advised me well (i.e., my builder and public adjustor); and received words of encouragement from many of you. Thank you to those of you who sent notes and gift cards to show your care and concern. You have been a blessing.
I was finally able to move back into my home at Thanksgiving, a perfect time to reflect on how blessed I have been to have the support and care that has helped me to push through this unbelievable experience. In our specialty, nurses and associates care and love on people daily who are enduring overwhelming crisis in their lives. As one who has recently endured a life trauma, I want you to know that those acts of kindness and concern are what make the crisis endurable. Relationships matter. Talking helps. Holding a hand or squeezing a shoulder is sometimes just enough to turn someone's despair into assurance that they are not alone in their experience.
The year 2012 is one for my memory book. Although the drama of the tornado makes for fascinating conversation, the real story is in the relationships I experienced with those reaching out to love and care for me. For each of us, and for our patients, there will be a "best of times" and "worst of times." Care, the focus of nursing, is what will make the difference. Thank you for caring.