Jerry was 61 years old. He was a tall man with pale blue eyes. His hair, although grayish, hinted at having once been blond. Finnish/Irish he was. He successfully managed a large real estate firm. He had also created a remarkable family. Jerry and Joyce had two exceptional sons, Mike, 35 and Pat, 31. Both were married and Mike had a baby girl. Both were slender and tall like Dad but they had the dark Spanish eyes of their mother. I was Jerry’s nurse.
Jerry had a history of glomerulonephritis that resulted in chronic renal failure. During the last couple of years he had been managing his own peritoneal dialysis and enjoyed the freedom this method allowed compared to hemodialysis. He came to the ICU after suffering a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm, which was repaired emergently.
I soon took a personal interest in Jerry and developed a privileged bond with him and his family. Jerry was in my care day after day, stretching into weeks. I worried about him on my days off and hoped that upon returning I’d find him faring well.
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