The Power of Touch

My young neighbor friend is about to be a senior in high school and just completed her certification class to become a nursing assistant. Already planning for post-high school education, she’s exploring a career in nursing. She recently accepted a position at a local hospital as a nursing assistant to help discern her future path. Certainly, nursing isn’t for everyone, but in my opinion there’s no profession greater in opportunity to make a difference for others than nursing. As a retired nurse, I’m know I’m biased. However, I’m sure any of you who’ve been in the vulnerable position of being a patient knows the value of a good nurse.

In talking with my neighbor and extending enthusiastic support for her, I was reminded of my early days in nursing. I can recall a multitude of times when my connections with patients were clearly established through simple touch. There was the AIDS patient I cared for in the mid 1980’s when no one wanted to touch those afflicted with this disease. I remember like it was yesterday when I gave him a sponge bath as he lay in the hospital bed. The power of  touch was so healing for this young man whose isolation was palpable.  And then there was the woman who had been in the hospital for weeks and longed for her feet to be washed. A simple basin of warm sudsy water prepared so her itchy and scaly feet could be soothed by a soft scrub made her day, and mine too. As a nurse, I held many a hand when anxious nerves threatened to overcome a patient’s vulnerability. And as a patient, I’ve absorbed the calming presence of a nurse’s touch as I was rolled into an operating room.

I realize the power of touch is not limited to the profession of nursing, but in reflection of my young neighbor’s new job opportunity, I realize her hands have the potential to make a big difference in the world. Think about those, like the elderly, who aren’t often touched. Even the opportunity to apply lotion to their hands or give a back rub might be a gamechanger on a day when waiting for the doctor to arrive might be laborious. Holding a hand while a needle is inserted into a vein can ease a stressful moment.

Every time I feel my grandchild’s hand slip into mine, there is a sweetness that overcomes me. Sharing a hand grasp with someone who understands means no words are needed. And all you need to do is hang out in an airport to watch how joy is unleashed when reunions begin with wide and all-embracing hugs. For many, touch is a regular thing we might take advantage of. That’s good thing. But for others, touch becomes a rarity. For those who live alone or who are marginalized, touch might be a longing they aren’t even aware they desire. That is, until they’re touched and joy rises.

I’ll be sure to keep tabs on my great young neighbor as she enters the world of nursing. I’m quite certain she’ll become aware of her superpowers with regard to caregiving. My guess is she’ll realize rather quickly her strength and ability to make someone feel better just might rest in her hands.  It’s the easiest thing in the world to offer touch. For some, at just the right moment, it might offer the best kind of medicine.

Photo by Rishabh Dharmani on Unsplash