Daisies Are the Friendliest Flowers
I love the movie “You’ve Got Mail,” that classic rom-com starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. As the big box Fox Books overtakes The Shop Around the Corner, these two business owners begin to fall in love over the internet. When Kathleen Kelly falls ill, Joe Fox comes bringing daisies, to which Kathleen replies, “Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flower?” Thanks to this movie, we’ve all thought about daises in a whole new way.
My last stay at rehab was from January 2022 through March 2022, just a bit over two months. It was my sixth admission to a rehab, and this time I couldn’t sit up on my own. In fact, my core was so weak that I sounded out of breath even talking. As I wheeled into the rehab area at the hospital it was somewhat like walking into Cheers where everybody knows your name. Being a Norm at the hospital isn’t something I’d inspired to be.
There was a “Welcome Back” note on my whiteboard and the nurse that admitted me was Karen G. Affectionately called “Karen G” because there were three Karen nurses on the rehab unit - Karen G, Karen C, and Karin S. I had never had Karen G as my nurse in my past admissions but knew her because of her laugh. She has the most contagious laugh that you can hear across the unit. I imagined her “G” stood for guffaw, or giggle, not her last name.
I was pretty low when I arrived at rehab. I couldn’t imagine how I would keep up with the daily rehab regime and how in the world I’d do anything in my current state. Karen (she’ll just be Karen from here on out) was so encouraging. She made me laugh even though my stomach could barely handle laughing. Her encouragement from the moment I rolled in there was constant. Once you are on a rotation with certain nurses, you normally have them as your nurses when they are working. And that was the case with Karen. If I didn’t have her when she was on shift, I questioned why.
She was my boo. When holidays came, like Valentine’s Day, she’d decorate my room. She’d plaster motivational poems and quotes all over my room. When I admitted, my nutrition was pretty horrible. I had come from ICU, then telemetry, before heading to rehab and my protein was low as well as every other vitamin and nutritional level in my body. Doctors had told me to eat everything I could. You gotta cherish a moment like that because it rarely happens. But I had no appetite. I hadn’t eaten for three weeks or so when I came out of ICU, and had to slowly re-enter the world of food with a liquid diet, then soft foods. I had no desire to eat anything, even though I knew I needed the nutrition to get better. Karen stocked me up with protein treats - since those were to be eaten at least three times a day - when all the hospital could provide was one type of protein bar. When the hospital tray looked horrible, Karen made sure I had canned foods they could warm up for me like spaghetti-Os and mac and cheese.
Beyond the tangible things she did, there was so much non-tangible she provided. I was battling my incision healing, which was daunting since a non-healing incision is what led to my amputation. I went through two revision surgeries while in rehab. No matter what was going on, Karen was my cheerleader. She’d talk to me about what I was struggling with and I’d always feel better. When the wound nurses would come to change my bandage, if she was there, she’d hold my hand, knowing that with every change of the bandage, something new could pop up that wasn’t good. I always tried to be the same encourager for her. When she’d wheel her computer in my room to do my vitals and give meds, I’d sing to her or be a listening ear.
One day the nurse manager, Mary, came in to check on me and how my visit was going. As we talked I began to share how much Karen had meant to me. At the end of our conversation, Mary asked if I’d be willing to nominate Karen for a Daisy Award. I didn’t know what that was at the time, but I was all for Karen being recognized for her service as a nurse. Especially given she’d only been a nurse two years.
The Daisy Award was founded in 1999 by the family of J. Patrick Barnes who died at age 33 of complications of Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura (ITP). The nursing care Patrick received when hospitalized profoundly touched his family and they started the foundation to honor nursing caregivers. The process isn’t easy. Not every nurse nominated wins the award. In fact Baptist Louisville, the hospital where I was for rehab, had only bestowed 57 awards since it’s inception.
I was discharged in March and kept my feelers up and in tune to hear the outcome of this nomination. In August, I got the call from the woman who coordinates the program for Baptist to inform me Karen had won! I was thrilled! There wasn’t a more deserving person to receive this award and I was so honored to have been her nominator. A ceremony would be occurring two weeks from that call and they wanted me to be there, as a surprise, to Karen. Her family would be coming also. I couldn’t wait!
The day came and my friend, Beth, who had gotten to know Karen, and was so thankful for her as well, took me to the ceremony. It was so emotional to see her receive such accolades and also wonderful to meet her family - husband, daughter, mother, and sisters. Her gifts included a special parking place, a dozen Cinnabon rolls, and a sculpture called The Healer’s Touch. Oh and a bouquet of the friendliest flowers - daisies.
There were other gifts but these stuck out to me. The Cinnabon Rolls connect back to Patrick Barnes. While he was in the hospital, his Dad was eating a Cinnabon. Patrick hadn’t eaten much for many days and asked what it was his Dad was eating as it smelled so good. When his Dad told him, he sampled a bite and asked that all the nurses have Cinnabon rolls the next day. They are now a corporate sponsor. The Healer’s Touch Sculpture is made from African stone by the Shona Tribe in Zimbabwe. The money made from the Daisy Award Honorees is a huge help to those in economic need in Zimbabwe.
If I had my choice, I wouldn’t have walked this road. Even if I had walked a small portion of this road, it wouldn’t have been this long or resulted in my facing death three times. But God always has a plan. As I witnessed this Daisy ceremony, my mind went back to my time in rehab, when I never thought I’d be able to sit up on my own. I never thought my incision would heal and I never thought I’d get a prosthetic and walk again. My mind went back to all those times Karen was an encouragement to me, especially when I was there alone. Today she is still giving the amazing care she gave to me to new rehab patients. I sometimes see her on days I have outpatient rehab…where I am learning to walk on a prosthetic in the same gym where I couldn’t sit up on my own for weeks. There’s no better place to see my goals reached then surrounded by Karen and all my rehab peeps who’ve walked this road with me. Kathleen Kelly was right. Daisies are the friendliest.