Heritage Snapshot: Part 84

One evening Theda Mohr, LVN, was assigned to care for a woman recovering from total-knee-replacement surgery. The patient suffered from severe arthritis in her hands, feet, and large joints. Turning and positioning her resulted in agony, even with pain medication. Mrs. Mohr made a special effort to make the patient as comfortable as possible. “When I had taken care of ‘Mrs. Lamont’ for a few days,” said Mrs. Mohr, “I became more and more aware of a vague familiarity about her, even though her name was new to me. I searched my memory for some clue to her identity, some place where I could fit her into the past.” Even checking Mrs. Lamont’s medical records for an address [Twentynine Palms, California] did not help. Mrs. Mohr knew no one from that area. The patient’s recovery was slow, and Mrs. Mohr came to know her rather well. One day she said to Mrs. Mohr, “You’ve been so good to me. You hardly hurt me at all. You know, years ago I used to be a nurse, too. I just wish I could take care of you sometime, the way you have cared for me.” Mrs. Mohr smiled but thought to herself that, considering the patient’s severe arthritis, Mrs. Lamont would likely never be able to serve as a nurse again. She simply replied, “Well, you’re just reaping some of the good care you gave when you were nursing others. Now it’s your turn to be cared for in your time of need.” One day as the two women talked, they discovered that they both had lived in Oregon at the same time. Mrs. Mohr had lived in Eugene; Mrs. Lamont had worked as an LPN at the Portland Sanitarium. “What years did you live and work in Portland?” asked Mrs. Mohr. The patient’s answer took Mrs. Mohr back some 30 years. Then she recognized Mrs. Lamont. The two women had been in an almost identical setting 30 years before—only the roles had been reversed. Mrs. Mohr, ill with acute thyroiditis, had been hospitalized at the Portland Sanitarium (now Portland Adventist Medical Center). And Mrs. Lamont had been her night nurse, a tall, slim, young widow, quietly changing hot packs to the neck throughout the night, urging her patient to take fluids and bringing the R.N. with medication when the pain became unbearable. And Mrs. Mohr recognized in her friend the same gentle, sensitive manner that was now as familiar as her face. Mrs. Lamont’s desire to repay Mrs. Mohr’s kindness had already been paid in full.