April 15th 2024 I started working for Elevate Respiratory Therapy Group. I was one of the originals and it was a little scary. I did not know what this job would entail besides breathing treatments and charting. I was ready for that though. What I wasn’t ready for, was the tremendously strong bond I would begin to build with my patients. We all know (now) that nursing homes are not for the weak. Some patients have dementia, some have Alzheimers, some have all of their cognitive abilities but physical disabilities and some are literally trapped in their bodies with no way to communicate.. There are so many more ailments affecting our patients, but those were just a few. When I first started working here, I met Rosa Diaz. (I have permission from the family to use her name, story, and personal anecdotes so HIPAA is not an issue.) Now just in case you don’t know who she is or was, she was a pioneer. She is the namesake of La Rosa Fruit Bars and Ice Cream and was well known throughout Bakersfield because of this and many other life accomplishments. She was almost nonverbal when I met her and sometimes aggressive. She lived at Parkview Julian for 8 years prior to me starting here. Her family never left her side. There was not one day that passed that either her niece, one of her daughters, or her (99 year old and still driving) husband, would be here with her. Well, In April of 2024, I went up to her and asked her if she would like to come on services with ERTG. She nodded her head and shouted “Si!” She would come with me religiously 3 times a day and I would make her smile and laugh and she never hesitated to come with me. I would ask her “Eres Rosita Bonita? O Rosa Hermosa? Translated (roughly) into English that means “Are you a pretty little rose? Or are you a beautiful rose?” Depending on her mood, she would answer one or the other. One day I saw how happy she got when they were playing Mexican music in the breakroom and when I took her to her room for treatment, I asked her if she wanted me to sing her a song. She nodded her head eagerly and I asked her which one she wanted to hear. I didn’t think she would answer so quickly and so excitedly, but she yelled “Una de Vicente!” She wanted a song by Vicente Fernandez, a very famous Mexican singer with a powerful voice and presence. And being that I come from a very rich Mexican-American background, I knew quite a few of his songs. I started singing one of his more popular songs and to my surprise, Dona Rosa started singing with me. She would belt out certain phrases and I would pass her the imaginary microphone which was usually the CPT machine. 😀 We made this a little ritual and I would dance for her too. I would make her laugh by asking her if she wanted to “mover el bote” (shake her bottom), and depending on her mood she would yell “Si!” or “No!” One day I walked her back to the dining room and told her I would see her later and she belted out in a strong voice, “I love you!” My eyes filled with tears and I told her I loved her too. Thats how she would end our treatments most days after that day. I know she loved Ashley as well and was always ready for Respiratory Therapy. The week leading up to her passing was just like any other week except she was weaker. She didn’t really want to eat and she was so quiet. I continued singing to her and dancing with her and she would still smile and laugh but she wasn’t singing along like normal. One day, as I was in the administration office, a CNA ran in and asked that I please come check on her. Forgetting about my knee injury, I got up as fast as I could and ran to her room where the nurses had her on a nonrebreather at 5 LPM. An RT knows, that’s incorrect and not normal. A nonrebreather needs to be at 15 LPM. I quickly made the adjustment and began talking to her and asking her if she was okay as I saw her O2 sat rise from 63% to 90%. The paramedics arrived and asked all their normal questions before they took her away but I had to get in one last ‘ I love you Dona Rosa.” and she whispered ever so quietly “ I love you too.” in her beautiful Mexican accent. I knew I wouldn’t see her again and once they took her away on the gurney, I shut her room door and hugged the CNA that had come for me. “Shes not coming back is she?”, she asked me. I said “ I don’t think so my beauty.” We sat for a few minutes with tears rolling down our face. I never knew just how much losing her would impact me but her presence in this building and in my life is so so missed.. She was buried on August 15th and her daughters have reached out to me and thanked me for how much better I made their mother’s stay here. And I can’t help but think that they shouldn’t be thanking me. I’m the one that is so grateful to have had the pleasure of taking care of her. I never knew how strong the bond between myself and a patient could be until she left us. Rest in peace mi Rosita Bonita. I’ll remember you every time I have a La Rosa popsicle and I will sing “Una de Vicente” in your memory. I love you.