My husband, Marty, was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes as a child and was able to manage this chronic illness until the summer of 2011. That's when he was told that he was in end stage renal failure and would have to be on dialysis until he had a kidney transplant.
I have been a nurse for 24 years at Saint Vincent Health Center, where I have spent many weekends, holidays, special occasions and not-so-special ones with my co-workers. We have watched each other get married, have children, raise children and cover for each other for graduations, sporting events and everything in between.
As Marty and our family prepared for a life with dialysis, there were several surgical procedures along the way that took me into the very hospital where I worked. But these were in different departments, where I didn't know the staff like I did in my own, the ER.
The day Marty went into surgery that would help his dialysis, the nurses were wonderful and explained everything to us. Then I saw a familiar face. This nurse assured me he would be in the operating room with my husband at all times. I felt a sense of calm and knew that he was in good hands.
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