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Stories Welcome: The Power of Sight in Nursing

In this member writing piece, Wania De Mendonca reflects on the power of seeing, listening, and bearing witness to the stories patients carry.

 

Wania De Mendonca

Before dawn, I drove through a quiet summer morning to care for a dialysis patient.

They said he liked to crack jokes.
The kind of person who makes everyone laugh.

But when I looked into his eyes…
I saw tears.

Eyes tell stories that words try to hide.

I gently acknowledged what I was seeing and asked if dialysis was overwhelming him.

And then… he began to speak.

He shared the ghosts of his past and the loves he had lost.
He spoke of a deep, life-changing romance from his younger years.
A love born from a simple, unexpected moment.

They stayed together for a lifetime—until she suffered a devastating illness.

He walked away from his entire career just to care for her.
He gave her water.
He bathed her.
He stayed.

While others questioned why he remained…
he simply loved.

When she passed away, a part of him died too.
He lost his purpose.

His health failed.
He faced deep hardship and isolation.

And yet, against all odds, a connection from his past resurfaced
and helped him stand on his feet once again.

As I listened, I realized something profound:

Love builds.
Love hurts.
Love waits.
Love remembers.
Love destroys.
Love resurrects.

Love builds.
Love hurts.
Love waits.
Love remembers.
Love destroys.
Love resurrects.

Science can explain neurotransmitters, hormones, and heartbeats.
But science cannot measure the weight of a hand, held after decades apart.

It cannot explain why someone walks away from success
to care for the person, they love.

It cannot calculate the pain
of losing the presence that gave meaning to your life.

At the end of life, people rarely talk about titles, promotions, or possessions.

They talk about love.
Who they loved.
Who loved them.
Who stayed.

Before he left, I offered words meant to honor his journey—
not as a tragedy, but as a life that loved deeply when it mattered most.

And in that moment, his response made it clear that simply being heard
had meaning beyond anything I could measure.

And I understood…

Sometimes healing does not come through medicine.
Sometimes healing arrives when someone is seen.
When someone is heard.
When someone bears witness to the sacred story of their life.

Today, I didn’t just perform dialysis.

Today… love screamed out loud.

Because sometimes, the most powerful medicine in the world
is simply listening.

 

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