When Copper Is More Valuable Than Gold

CONTENT WARNING: Death, Cancer
 

I’m not sure if this is because I work in a smaller rural hospital, but it was something I was glad to be part of; I’m not sure we could have gotten away with this in a larger hospital.

I’m an administrative assistant at a hospital. I have no formal medical training outside of CPR and recovery positions, but I assist the nurses and doctors enough to have seen my fair share of medical emergencies.

Mr. Smith (name changed, obviously) is one of our patients who has recently taken a turn for the worse. He has terminal cancer and isn’t expected to last the night. He is in his late nineties and his family has been preparing for this day, so they’re all in the area and coming by to spend some precious moments with him.

I’m standing at the reception doing some of my work when I see a woman who I recognize to be one of Mr. Smith’s relatives standing at the entrance. She seems hesitant to come in, so I approach and ask if everything is okay.

Relative: “Well, I am trying to see how I can go about bringing Copper into the hospital.”

Me: “Copper? Like the metal?”

Relative: “What? Oh, gosh, no! This is Copper!”

She stands aside, and I am shocked to find that I didn’t notice the tiny old dog standing behind her. He looks like a cross between a Jack Russel terrier and… something… but I can certainly tell how he got his name. His coat is a brilliant copper color!

Relative: “Copper is Mr. Smith’s absolute best friend. We wanted to see if we could bring him in to see him one last time, but we understand as hospitals aren’t designed to be pet-friendly.”

Me: “Stay here for just one moment.”

As luck would have it, one of the hospital administrators is at reception talking to a few managers. I politely interrupt and explain the situation, pointing over by the entrance as I do. They all look over, and I observe a solemn resolve come across all their faces.

Hospital Administrator: “We still do occasional visits from support dogs for Pediatrics, right?”

Manager: “We do.”

Hospital Administrator: “I don’t care what it takes, but get something filed for Copper.”

Manager: “On it.”

Hospital Administrator: *Pointing at me* “You, with me.”

We both head over to the entrance, and the hospital administrator says hello.

Hospital Administrator: “Hi, [Relative]. I’m so sorry for what you and your family are going through. Please follow me, and we’ll get you and Copper in to see your grandfather.”

We exit the hospital, walk around to the side, and enter a side entrance only accessible by hospital staff. We are mere feet away from Mr. Smith’s room.

Hospital Administrator: “[My Name], please take them to Mr. Smith’s room. I’ll go see the ward manager and explain the situation.”

I do as I’m told, and as soon as Copper enters the room, both he and Mr. Smith come to life. The dog jumps up on the bed, a licking frenzy ensues, and Mr. Smith starts crying. A moment ago, he was too weak to move, but now he’s mustered the energy to embrace his dog.

Mr. Smith: “My Copper! My little Copper!”

Since my shift ended at 6:00 pm, I was told what happened throughout the night by the nurses.

That little copper dog stayed embraced by Mr. Smith until the very end. Relatives came and went and paid their respects, but Copper sat by his master and didn’t let go. It was as if he knew what was coming and was preparing himself, too.

When the moment came, Copper licked Mr. Smith’s forehead one last time and got up for the first time in hours. There were tears and the usual protocols were followed, and the granddaughter I had spoken with the day before took Copper home. He had gone back to being quiet and still, like when I had first noticed him.

A month or so later, our hospital received a huge bouquet of flowers, sent from the family, thanking us for making their relative’s passing as peaceful as possible. The card was signed by the family members — including a little paw print from Copper.

The card explained that Copper was living with the granddaughter now and took weekend walks to Mr. Smith’s grave to say hello. Everyone who read the card teared up. Working at a hospital, you see death pretty regularly, but this one got to us.

May we all get a Copper in our lives!