I had just finished my last shift at work. I came home to heat up leftovers in the microwave and feed my dog, Murphy, his dinner. As I sat down to start dinner, my father entered the kitchen: “Your grandmother has a perforated intestine and is undergoing emergency surgery. The surgery lasted almost five hours and it's not over yet. I'm leaving to see her." I wasn't hungry anymore. My father packed his bags and went to New Jersey alone. I couldn't go because I had three exams the next day. I never thought I would find myself next to my grandmother, and only three weeks later I would say goodbye to her for the last time. As I stood next to the hospital bed in Room 432 at Riverview Medical Center, I gently ran my finger over the back of my grandmother's hand, as if I might break it by pressing too hard. I had never seen my grandmother so fragile. His hand was cold and wet. His body could no longer rid itself of fluids, yet they continued to flow through the intravenous line nestled in the crook of his little elbow. His skin was sweating. Small drops of fluid accumulated in the crevices of his body. His dialysis machine ran constantly with a steady hum. He sang along with the other machines that monitored every vital sign and function of the body. Beep. Hum. Mumble. Beep. Hum. Mumble. Occasionally, a nurse would come into the room to suck her mouth. This would remove the buildup that formed because they had to perform a tracheotomy. She had been on the ventilator for too long. My family sat around my grandmother. We talked to her and read the newspaper to her. She was my grandmother, but she wasn't. Her toenails, which were always freshly manicured a bright pink, were bare from her surgeries. H... middle of paper... the ICU nurses entered the room one last time. Even in the worst moments they supported my family. The nurses hugged us all, expressing their condolences. Their work is hard and tiring. Even on days when they don't want to come to work, they offer countless hours of help and empathy to people they don't even know. Practicing such humanity would be an honor. My grandmother was a maternity and delivery nurse at Riverview Medical Center for almost her entire career. He brought me there, to the intensive care unit, with a purpose. Watching nurses work every day further inspired my decision to study nursing by showing me what area of ​​nursing I want. As a result of my grandmother's ICU stay, I will be earning my bachelor's degree in nursing from Gannon University to become a registered nurse. One day I will be a Jamie to many families.