Sewn Together

From left: Steve Crow, RN, Ashton Menzie, RN, and Michael Hoffman, RN

Colleen Romero arrived at Monument Health Rapid City Hospital’s Intensive Care Unit already very sick. Treatment for a complicated array of interrelated kidney issues would prove to make communication to Caregivers difficult for Colleen. “She was able to shake her head, or she would play on her phone. But every time I had her, she was either intubated or she had a trach, so she couldn’t talk,” says Ashton Menzie, RN.

Still, Ashton and her fellow ICU nurses, Steve Crow, RN, and Michael Hoffman, RN, made it their priority to keep Colleen informed, even as her condition deteriorated. “Every time I went in there – her eyes were normally closed – but I’d be like, ‘It’s me, Ashton, your nurse. I’m here doing this.’ And then say to her mom, Sheila Looking Elk-Fanning, ‘Hey, this medication is what I’m giving.’ I spent a lot of time in that room, and I tried to make Sheila feel comfortable and chat with her and ask her how her day was. She was going through a lot. I tried to be there for her.”

Steve Crow also did his best to involve the family in the advocacy of the patient. “I kind of developed a relationship with her daughter and her sister and her mom as they came in, and made sure that the family’s wishes weren’t being overlooked,” he says.

Unfortunately, Colleen’s prognosis was not favorable. “She would get better for a while, and then you would see a slide back down further than before, and it was just up, down, up, down and she got kind of worse and worse. And so eventually she passed,” says Michael.

Though Colleen’s family was deep in the throes of their grief, they still wanted to, in some way, express their appreciation for the nurses who cared for Colleen. “Her mother reached out to Patient Relations, to have us come to the Presbyterian Church for her service,” Michael says. “The three of us talked, and we actually were all off that day.” So they decided to go together.

During a wake after the service, the three nurses were summoned to stand in front of the attendees, where each nurse was celebrated in a Star Quilt ceremony. The Star Quilt, or wičháȟpi owíŋža, is a traditional Lakota honor bestowed upon, or worn, by those of special distinction and presented at ceremonies, such as a birth or, in this case, a funeral. An example of such a quilt adorns the figure depicted in Dale Lamphere’s Dignity of Earth and Sky sculpture near Chamberlain, S.D.

“In nursing, we have a lot of different recognition opportunities, like, DAISY awards. But this, to me, is more important than any DAISY award I could have ever received, because it didn’t come from my peers voting on it. It came from a family, out of their genuine admiration for the care that I provided. I’m super proud that they chose me,” says Steve. He was so taken aback by the gift that, at the conclusion of the wake, he called his family from the church parking lot to tell them about it.

Ashton considers the gift a professional affirmation. “It feels good to know that I feel like I chose the right career, that I did right by Colleen and her mom,” she says.

It may have hit Michael the hardest, though. As he recalls, while fighting back tears, “I found out at the service that I went to high school with Colleen. I moved here from Alaska and graduated from Stevens in ‘07, and she graduated in ‘09. So it’s very possible the two of us crossed paths and sat in the same lunchroom. That made it even more personal. My family’s always been in health care, and I’ve always wanted to be there – both personally and medically – for people in their worst moments, because that’s when people need the most help.” 

The Star Quilts created a thread between the nurses that will forever stitch together their shared experience with Colleen and her family. Michael sees in the quilts a representation of the bigger picture of health care: a fabric, Rod of Asclepius or Lamp of Life, of sorts; a reminder that, “Even if the outcome doesn’t go well, there is still the meaning of the fight.”