Louie and his special shoes....

    Several weeks ago I was touched by the story of a young policeman in NYC and his act of kindness and compassion when he bought a pair of shoes for a barefoot homeless man on a freezing cold night. It triggered a memory for me that I just had to share.

    I was in my early 20's, and working at a local hospital in ICU. One of my patients was an elderly gentleman who had been on a ventilator during his entire stay in ICU. He really touched my heart, mostly because he never had any visitors. No one. No family, no friends, no pastor, no neighbors. Nobody. His only human contact came from the hospital staff that took care of him.

   He was unable to speak because of the ventilator and his trach tube, but the day came when he was finally weaned off of the ventilator and I was able to cap his trach. I encouraged him to talk to me, anxious to hear what he would say after being unable to communicate for so long. He surprised me. He said, "I have no shoes!"

    He continued, "What am I going to do? I don't even have any shoes!" I tried to reassure him that he didn't have to worry about shoes right now. But he couldn't stop worrying. Which got me worrying, and really upset.

    I worried about Louie and his shoeless state. But what could I possibly do about it?  I had a sudden inspiration. I went back to my department, told my colleagues about Louie's first words, and said, "Let's get him some shoes!"

    Dollar bills started piling up on the table. Two of my colleagues ran upstairs to measure Louie's feet. Heaven only knows what he thought about that!  Our secretaries took the money, the measurements and left the building. An hour later they returned with a brand new pair of tennis shoes. There was even enough money left over for a few pair of socks.

    As a group, we all trooped up to ICU to give Louie his shoes. When he opened the box, his eyes filled with tears as he stared at his shoes. I asked him if he wanted to try them on, but he declined, and held his shoes to his chest as he thanked us for the gift.

    Our story (and Louie's) spread through the hospital like wildfire. The PR department was contacted. Eveyone was deeply touched by our act of kindness and compassion for this man who was alone and destitute.

    I got a call a few days later from the head of the PR department. He thanked me and my colleagues for what we did for Louie. However, he informed me, we didn't need to buy Louie shoes. Louie had enough money to but our entire department new shoes.

    Apparently Louie owned a large ranch about five hours outside of Denver. He and his wife were quite wealthy and had a huge family. His sons worked the ranch, it was their busy season, and that's why no one had come to visit him. Oooops! We took a lot of good natured teasing about buying such a wealthy man tennis shoes, but we took it in stride, so to speak.

    I still had a special place in my heart for Louie, and I often visited him after he was transferred to the general floor. His shoes were always on the bedside table, on the window sill, and even in the bed next to him. Obviously, those shoes meant a lot to him, and they sure did mean a lot to me and my colleagues. Our PR director said that we didn't need to buy Louie shoes. I disagree; I think we did. What do you think?

   
Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP