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Lessons From Israel
Date: July 16, 2007

Some people spend their whole lives searching for their purpose, and never seem to find it. Some lives are so short that those who don’t know might say those individuals never fulfill their purpose.

Though his life was short, measured in weeks rather than months or years, Israel most definitely made a difference.

Israel was transferred to Floyd Medical Center from T.C. Thompson Children’s Hospital on March 29. The pediatric specialists in Chattanooga believed they had done all they could for the dark-haired boy, who was born with numerous health complications. The transfer to Rome was an act of mercy for his family, allowing them to be close to home and close to Israel as his life ebbed away.

“We were told he had just a matter of days to live,” said Beverley Floyd, a nurse and bereavement specialist at Floyd, “but things didn’t go quite as quickly as we expected.”

Israel was one of the first patients in Floyd’s new Pediatric Intermediate Care Unit and adjusting care and expectations for a child who is not thriving, but who seemed to have an inner drive to press on, was new to his Floyd caregivers.

“The staff and physicians had a difficult time dealing with our own issues,” Beverley said. “We are nurses and doctors. We’re supposed to help people get better. With the PICU new to us, it’s kind of hard for us to know that healing may not be our goal, that we have to have a new goal.”

What was expected to be one week became two, then three, then six, and over that time Israel’s nurses became attached to him and his family as they talked to them about his health, what to expect and grief.

“It was very difficult for the mom as Israel lost more and more weight,” Beverley said.

Chaplain Gary Batchelor baptized the infant at his parents' request.

At first, Israel’s mom wouldn’t leave her baby boy’s side, but as the weeks passed and she became more comfortable with his caregivers, she began going home for short periods to care for Israel’s older sibling, who is only a toddler.

“A lot of nurses put in a lot of hours rocking him,” Beverley said. “There were shifts where he would be rocked continuously. If somebody had to go to the bathroom or go to lunch they would pass him to someone else, and they would rock him.”

Israel, who spent most of his time sleeping, tugged at the hearts of these caregivers, and the nurses began keeping a journal, documenting their feelings in a spiral-bound notebook they titled “Lessons from Israel.”

The first entry is dated April 26:

“We have all grown to love a child and family who have become a big part of our lives in the past month. We have loved him, cried over him, dreamed about him and held him close…It is far beyond our comprehension to understand why these things happen in life. Isaiah 55:8 says ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’ Since we cannot begin to answer the question of why, maybe we can share with others the things we have learned in the days of Israel.”

From April 29:
“In the 32 years that I have nursed, I have to say you have been the most special gift…I am not sure why you are still here with us, but I know in your few short days you have touched all of our hearts.”

From May 3:
“I awoke this morning thinking about you–to find those big brown eyes waiting on me when I got here. I am not sure how or why you are still here with us, but it is not for us to know or question–just to know that you have touched so many lives in your short stay here. May God keep you safe and guide us to care for you.”

From May 6:
“As we, the nurses in the PICU, prepared ourselves for your death, we all came together from different viewpoints and past experiences, but we all ultimately made the same decision–to love you and support you and your family no matter what or when the outcome.

“As each day passed, you showed us strength of the human spirit and a will to live that changed us forever. I learned that no physician, nurse or textbook could tell us how long your life would be….You taught us that we are not in control of life. You taught us what it means to love unconditionally and taught us how hard it is to say goodbye. In those last few hours of your life, there was a beautiful smile on your face–your first smile actually. It reaffirmed for me the belief in life after death….In those last hours you allowed us to see that first glimpse of heaven, and for that, Israel, I will always be grateful.”

 “One of the nurses said, ‘It’s such a warm smile comforting us, letting us know, “I’m ready now, and I’m going to a better place,”’” Beverley said. “Everybody was emotionally distraught with his passing, but his smile made it easier for the nurses to let go.”

Before his death, the nurses took one last photo of Israel, sporting that smile that brought peace and closure to his caregivers in a way few could have expected. His mom requested a copy.

Rather than simply give her a picture, Israel’s pediatric nurses assembled photographs of the infant boy along with their journal entries and a copy of the boy’s footprints into a scrapbook, and presented them to his mother.

“We were able to give that to the family as part of our love and care and respect,” Beverley said. “He just touched a lot of lives. We wanted to do what we could for his family because we knew this was difficult.”

The same caregiverss felt compelled to do something more.

Finances were a problem for Israel’s parents, who had missed a lot of work caring for their son. The nurses decided they would pool their resources to help with Israel’s funeral and burial arrangements, and as more people learned about Israel, they were quick to help.

A funeral home donated their services and a burial plot.

A pediatrician paid for Israel’s casket.

The only remaining expenses were for a marker for baby Israel’s final resting place and the cost of opening and closing his grave.

The pediatric nurses and family medicine residents had been collecting money among themselves to help with Israel’s expenses and had a total of $1,055.

The final total for the cemetery fees and marker?

$1,055.75.

Beverley, who had contacted the cemetery about the arrangements, pulled three quarters from her purse, added them to the collection of bills and checks and paid the bill in full.

                    “As you go along in this health care profession some things just touch your life,” Beverley said. “These are the times that help you to validate that you are doing the right thing.”

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