Nancy Nurse, et. many, many al.

I once had a student named Nancy Holm. She's the same age as my sister Laurie, and I think she probably shared the same classes under my tutelage in Room 4 at Sandpoint High as Laurie did for three years back in the late '70s. That would be honors English and yearbook. I also knew Nancy through three years of drill team with the Ponderettes.

Nancy comes from a family of five girls. I taught or worked with all five and appreciated each in unique ways. Karen lives in Germany. Susan, Janet and Carol live over on the west side of the mountains in Washington, I believe. Nancy lives near Portland. It's been a while since I've seen any of them, but I do see their mother on occasion. Like my friend, Janel Holm, Nancy became a nurse.

So, of course, whenever I did see her after her graduation from Sandpoint High School, I'd always address her fondly as "Nancy Nurse." She put up with me, just as her mother did when my children were born. In fact, I do believe that Janel Holm was one of the very first people to ever lay eyes on Annie----even before I did! She was there when Annie was delivered by Dr. Fred Marienau.

I try to stay away from hospitals, doctors and nurses. So far, besides childbirth, only a wrenched knee, compliments of a horse who decided to get caught in a downed board gate, has taken me to the Emergency Room. And, I've got to be in really bad shape before I'll ever call a doctor. They lecture me about that, but that's the way I operate, and that's the way I'll probably do until the fun and games of old age start changing the rules for me.

I have accompanied other family members to emergency rooms, though. Each time, I walk away amazed and awestruck with the quality and warmth of people who've chosen the nursing profession as their life's vocation. They make such a difference at those times when a difference is needed.

In my mind, we certainly need to sing daily praises to honor the most unsung of our unsung heroes. That sterling assessment of the wonderful Nancy Nurses of world has heightened even more over the past several days while accompanying my mother to a series of appointments, exams and even the ER.

From the nurses, who took a special interest and appreciation of my mother during her appointment with heart specialist Dr. Jenkins last week, to the wonderful male nurse named Lynn at Kootenai Medical Center who cared for her during her angiogram, to the friendly and capable crew at Bonner General who attended to her needs Monday when her meds wreaked a bit of havoc on her system, every single professional associated with my mother helped her come away in better spirits and raving about her care.

I watched each of these situations and felt great comfort in knowing that each nurse was giving her extra doses of TLC while poking, pumping, preparing, listening, and recording the myriad of details needed for the doctor's visits. In the past week, she's had EKG's, CAT scans, blood tests, an angiogram, and X-rays along with the battery of general monitoring that goes along with appointments and hospital visits.

It's not been an easy week for her, but she's feeling better, thanks to the doctors' knowledge of her medical needs and the nurses' attention to her emotional and physical needs. In each case, these folks found ways to engage my mother in conversation and help her forget for periods of time just why she was there in the first place. Such talents are nothing short of brilliant.

I could not help but think of the hundreds of people these professionals meet during each week and how they, no doubt, perform dozens of small but important emotional miracles in the day-to-day duties requiring their meticulous monitoring and accurate paperwork.

So, Nancy Nurse, Janel, Lynn, Alisa, Sharon, Marion, Tonia, Vicki and the myriad of other selfless souls who make such profound differences in people's lives at times when their needs are so great: thank you, thank you, thank you.

I don't know about other people, but when I see any of you, I can make out a golden radiance circling just above all your heads.