A Final Day of Dignity: The Power of Compassion in Nursing

A Final Day of Dignity

During my time as an emergency department travel nurse in the L.A. area, I met a patient who left an unforgettable impact on my heart. He was houseless, wheelchair-bound, and came into the hospital for care. Many of the staff knew him well, but what I witnessed that day troubled me deeply. He had been placed in a room with items scattered around to mask the odor coming from it. As a nurse, it saddened me to see a patient treated in a way that overlooked his humanity.

Though he wasn’t my assigned patient, I felt compelled to step in. I asked if I could help him shower, and another nurse—also not assigned to him—volunteered to help. Together, we decided to give him what we jokingly called a “spa day.” We helped him shower, shave, and gave his hair a much-needed trim. As we worked, he began to open up about his life.

He shared that alcohol had taken everything from him: his job, his home, his wife, and his kids. Despite his circumstances, he had a heart of gold. His struggles were heartbreaking, but they reminded me of something so important: as nurses, we should never lose sight of why we do what we do. Every patient needs us, even when their struggles seem overwhelming. It’s our responsibility to figure out their why—and to remember our own.

By the time we finished, his entire demeanor had changed. He was smiling, laughing, and cracking jokes. When we wheeled him out of the shower, he looked like a new man. The staff, seeing his transformation, stood up and applauded. Compliments about how good he looked were flying around the room, and you could see the pride in his eyes. Later that day, he was admitted to the hospital for treatment to help with his alcohol addiction.

The next day, while back on shift, I heard a code blue called. It was his room. He didn’t make it.

But I wasn’t sad for him—not really. He passed with dignity, having spent his final day feeling human again. He had a fresh shave, a warm shower, a warm bed, a haircut, good meals, and, most importantly, he felt cared for and valued.

This experience reminded me why I became a nurse: to see the person beyond the patient, to bring compassion to those who need it most, and to offer dignity and care, no matter the circumstance. That patient taught me to never lose sight of my why and to always seek the why in the people I care for.

Rest easy, my friend. You are not forgotten.

Sandra.