From the night shift
Mr. Wisniewski's last Polka Sunday
He had no family left in Ohio. He did have a radio station, a nurse who knew his favorite song, and a volunteer who stayed until the end.
Teresa Kowalczyk · Director of chaplaincy
Stan was ninety-one and had outlived two wives, a son and every one of his card-playing friends from the parish hall. When the night nurse on 6 West paged us, the only contact in his file was a neighbor in Slavic Village who had moved to Arizona.
Bridget, one of our vigil volunteers, arrived at 11:40 on a Saturday night. She asked the nurse what Stan was like. The nurse said he had spent four days asking whether anyone would put the polka program on the radio on Sunday morning.
Sunday, 9 AM
So that is what we did. Bridget stayed until her shift ended at two, Chaplain Odell took the chair until six, and another volunteer brought a small radio from home. At nine the polka program came on, and Stan's hand moved on the blanket in time.
We don't always know what someone needs. Usually the nurses do. We just make sure there's a person in the chair when it happens.
He died at a quarter past eleven, during the last song. Odell said the prayers for the dying in Polish from the card we keep in the vigil bag.
Twelve nurses came to the short service we held in the hospital chapel the following week. None of them had known him longer than five days.