Welcome to 2TheHeart!



"Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have." ~Margaret Mead



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Light a candle of remembrance this September 11th. See Candlemart's patriotic candles here: www.qksrv.net/click-404250-55515

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This is definitely one that requires tissues! Thank you Susan, for your kindness and for sharing your beautiful story. I hope if I'm ever in need of a nurse, I'll get one with an angel's heart - like yours.



"Her Gentle Touch"
by Susan Spence


Working with cancer patients can give you a new outlook on the quality of life, a new perspective. It is most always refreshing and is a gentle reminder of the lives that are so precious. Most of the patients give you something to remember, whether it be good or bad, but they give nonetheless.

One very busy evening, a woman named Carolyn came in to have a biopsy done. It came back malignant and she had such a hard time accepting the diagnosis. She went through the typical denial, anger phases, but then she began to shut everyone out. She was an angry woman, a sad and lonely woman. I saw her every day as they began the grueling chemo treatments. The side effects can be so devastating if you are not prepared. And she was not.

Every day I went to her room to check vital signs and to see if there was anything she needed. I dreaded having to do this because I knew she hated being bothered. So I took a deep breath and entered her room smiling. I spoke, but as had become her custom, she turned her head and shoved her right arm in the air. I began the blood pressure routine and bent slightly over her to check her pulse and breathing. I was not looking at her, I would guess because she made me feel so bad for her.  Without noticing what she was doing, I felt fingers in my hair. I jumped back and looked at her. She was crying, her blue eyes open for the first time in ages.  She just laid there, sobbing and reaching for my hair. I smiled and backed out of the room.

I was confused, but at the same time filled with joy that she finally looked at me. But what was she doing, why was she touching me? I must have stood at the door for 5 minutes or so and then it came to me...she wanted my hair.  Now normally I was always getting a reprimand for letting my hair down during working hours, as it is long and auburn and quite thick. So many nights I just put it up when the supervisor came strolling along. Today, I had left it down. I began to tear up, so I went back in her room. Carolyn looked up and smiled at me, and her tears began to fall again. I sat on her bed and asked her to tell me what was wrong, why had she stopped talking.  She spoke in a small gentle voice and told me how she felt since the chemo therapy had been started. She had lost all her hair and no longer felt like a woman. We talked for a long while. The entire time she was holding my hair and staring at it as she spoke. Her pain nearly killed me.

From then on, whenever I went to her room, I pulled my clip from my hair and let it flow where ever it wanted. And every day, she held it and smiled and talked to me. I got her some cute little hats to wear, some wigs to try-she favored the red one, and she talked through her cancer and her humiliation. I loved her for her simple needs... to have hair on her head. When she died, I made certain she had a beautiful red wig on and I am certain she was smiling when she got to heaven.



Susan Spence  copyright 2002
ARPoet@aol.com

I am happily married, living in Arkansas, and rescuing animals when I am  not writing. Fishing is my passion and I fish whenever I find a few spare minutes.



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The Letter Box:




Dear Michael,
As always, your story made my day a little better... no, make that a LOT!  Keep writing - I look forward to it!
Love,
Geena



Dear 2theheart,
I loved Michael's story, and I agree with the second recipe for recovery! Faith in onself is important, but secondary only to God the Father and his Son. Thanks for all you do. Your work is a joy.