The Kindness of a Black Male Nurse

Today on Juneteenth I decided to find only good news about white and black people together. It got me thinking about the kindness that one black nurse gave to me the night of Brendan’s accident.

I've never shared this story, but this morning I realized that it's Juneteenth and it would be an opportunity for me to tell you about my experience on one of the hardest nights of my life.

It was Feb 5, 2018. I was meant to meet Brendan at his house by 9:00 PM. He called telling me he was catching the bus for home--. I'm not sure if you remember reading the details from my FB posts a couple of years ago and how I found out about Brendan's accident.

When I reached B's house the place was dark and I thought that odd so I started calling Brendan's cell phone over and over again. He always, always picked up the phone no matter what. I knew something was wrong and I was feeling panicked. After 15 minutes of redialing I heard a man's voice at the other end of the phone but it wasn't Brendan’s.

I asked who he was and “why did he have Brendan’s phone?” and “where is Brendan?”. He told me that B had an accident. I don't remember the whole conversation because I was in so much shock. He just kept asking me how fast I could get there to the hospital. That's when I knew it was serious, that's when I knew B was going to die.

The man said, “I'm not supposed to answer a patient’s phone but you called over and over again.” I screamed into the phone at him, “how bad is it? Is Brendan going to live?" He was honest and said, "No, he won't live.......how fast can you get here?"

I'm fast-forwarding through the agony of the time before B's best friend picked me up and raced us over the hill where Brendan was airlifted. Those minutes and hours were some of the worst moments of my life.

We finally arrived at the hospital, I ran in yelling to the front desk to help me get to Brendan. A black male nurse walked forward, he said he was the nurse who talked to me on the phone. My head fell on his shoulder and I was crying out, "take me to him, please take me to him" I found out later that the nurse’s shift had been over but he waited an hour for me to get to the hospital anyway. He went with me to a little isolated room with a social worker who was there to take over. But I wouldn't let go of the black nurse's hand. I held tightly to his hand and pleaded with him not to leave yet, I didn't know how I was going to face the situation when Brendan's doctor came to talk to me. About 6 of B's friends arrived about 15 minutes later and met me in the room to speak with B’s doctor. I don't remember much more about what happened before the doc came in.

I don't remember when the nurse left, but I will always be grateful that this man, this black male nurse, picked up the phone after my frantic phone calls, waited for my arrival to the hospital (even though his shift was over) and let me hold his hand while I waited for the doctor that night. I never got his name, and I don't think I ever thanked him.