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|  Israel's Gift By SUSAN OLIVO, CRRN
I first met Israel in June of 1999 in the Burn Unit at the UMass Memorial Medical Center in Worcester, MA. Four months earlier, in an explosion at the foundry where he worked, Israel had sustained third degree burns over more than 85 percent of his body. When he was ready for rehabilitation, I and one of my colleagues from Fairlawn Rehabilitation Hospital visited the Burn Unit to see if we could meet his needs at Fairlawn. By then, Israel had undergone numerous skin grafts, battled reoccurring infections, and endured seemingly insurmountable pain. Yet, somehow, during that initial visit, Israel did something I had not expected — he laughed. And when he did, I thought to myself, "If this man can keep his sense of humor, who am I to say that rehabilitation would be too difficult?" At that moment, I knew that if Israel was willing to do the work, we could help him. During those first few moments with Israel I also thought that there must have been some reason why he had survived such a terrible ordeal. Over the next nine months, I would come to some understanding of what that reason was. Israel came to Fairlawn with traecheostomy and gastric tubes, a Foley catheter, and numerous graft sites. He would need many daily dressing changes. Unable to swallow or feed himself, turn or move, he could not bend his elbows, knees or fingers, let alone sit or stand.
For months and months, Israel and I worked and talked together. We would keep each other motivated toward our common goal — getting him to the point where he could return to the community. During that time, we discussed our families, our interests, and life in general. As the father of four young children, it was difficult for Israel to be away from home for birthdays and holidays. Yet, he always took things as they came. He made the best of things by sharing stories about past traditions and events, but never with bitterness, anger or resentment. For example, at Christmastime, I brought in a few little gifts for Israel to give to his children. Instead of feeling badly about not being able to buy the gifts himself, he asked to keep the leftover cardboard wrapping paper tubes so he could surprise the children with a pretend swordfight, a simple Christmas morning ritual they had always enjoyed together. Israel's calm manner kept me calm. How could I say, "poor me'' or "I can't do this," when he was working so hard to reclaim his life? He made me appreciate the things I take for granted — especially my husband and children. He made me realize how quickly and dramatically things can change in our lives.
Israel was discharged home on March 16, 2000. Two days before his discharge, we held a party in the therapeutic gym. I invited staff from the Burn Unit to join in the celebration. By this time, Israel was walking, eating on his own, and socializing with all the staff and patients. Not long into the celebration, two of the Burn Unit nurses arrived. One had been on duty the day of the explosion. The other had been there the day I had visited Israel. They were amazed by his progress. When the party was over, Israel admitted to me that he had not remembered the two nurses. I told him, "It doesn't really matter because they remember you, and the next time they see a patient in as bad a shape as you were, they will remember how well you did. It will give them hope and a reason to work just as hard with that patient." If, as time passes, Israel doesn't remember me, that will be all right too because he has changed my life forever. I will never forget him. Despite his external appearance, Israel is one of the most beautiful people I know. He has strengthened my commitment to rehabilitation nursing and given me a wonderful gift — a renewed appreciation for life. About the author: Susan Olivo is a certified registered rehabilitation nurse at Fairlawn Rehabilitation Hospital. She has been practicing nursing since 1978. | |||||||||||
