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February the 21st @ 11:20 a.m. from a colleague:
The first day I met Laura was in my office on the 6th floor of the hospital in San Francisco. She ha recently become a registered nurse after being a successful and published poet with a Masters in Fine Arts. I remember her telling me how and why she intrinsically enjoyed nursing, but that she had one employment condition that was non-negotiable. Laura, would only work nights! I recall reminding myself to be calm,...because I really wanted to jump out of my chair, hug her, and hire her on the spot.
Of course, I hired Laura to wok on the oncology unit, and she only worked at night, and then,...she quietly became a leader among the nurses. Because of Laura's convictions, her intuitiveness and her humor, she gave us all a valuable gift - an uncanny way of seeing and an ability to facilitate healing amidst the formidable obstacles of modern technology health care.
Nights in the hospital were Laura's domain. Not just because of her innate circadian rhythms, nor because she had little tolerance for the chaos and bureaucracy of dayshift work, but because there was a certain autonomy, a latitude of space that Laura used, quite artfully to work her special magic with our patients.
Laura would arrive rested and calm at the appointed hour of darkness and after shift report proceed with her patient rounds. It was obvious that this activity was not a task for her, it was more of a pleasure. I remember following Laura one night as she introduced herself to each person, asked them to tell her whatever they might possibly need or want before the lights were turned out, and promised each one that she would personally be there all night to make sure that they could sleep safely with out fear or interruptions! An amazing promise, but one that gave people in vulnerable places much comfort and reassurance. Laura was their guardian of the twilight hours, and when a patient did awaken in the night, she was there instantly, quietly, softly ministering to their needs. Laura enabled us to "see the world through the eyes of the patient" and to "put patient's first" in our professional practice. In June 1984, after I had expressed an interest in her poetry, she game me her award-winning book of poetry, the Hocus-Pocus of the Universe and I opened the book to a quote by T.H. Griffin, "The universe is a configuration of people, places, and things...help together by the same mysterious energy that keeps atoms together in the same molecule."
Years later, reflecting on Laura's amazing gifts to her patients, colleagues, friends and loved ones, I now understand that, Laura herself was the mysterious energy that held us in orbit during a magical time. She held our attention with clarity and our hearts captive with unconditional love. Because Laura was not afraid to speak the truth, she painted possibilities for change. Her fine humor and unabashed zaniness delighted us. Laura was out finest teacher who went on to spread our collective knowledge all across the country, continuing to give others confidence and inspiration throughout her brilliant career. A poet; a nurse who recognized herself as a healer; a teacher; a muse.
Through her words and her actions Laura taught us how to be present and how to heal. My favorite of all Laura's own beautiful poems is most definitely "The Bath". It captures the essence of the relationship between a nurse and her patient. the nurse is rhythmically and gently bathing a comatose woman, talking softly to her all the while. Assuming that hearing is the last sense to go, she offers physical comfort through touch while simultaneously communicating images of beauty...the nurse describes the day outside which her patient cannot see...and offers her "the promise of spring". The beauty of every spring brings me back to that promise, and to Laura's gift.