Alumna Uses Lesson Learned at SHU to Comfort COVID-19 Patients

Recent graduate applies aroma massage to promote healing

By Sandra Brown ’20, MSN, RN

When COVID-19 hit our small hospital on Long Island, it hit hard. With its first surge, we received patients from our area and also from the harder-hit New York City region. Visitors were restricted from seeing patients, and this struck a chord with me. I couldn’t imagine being in the hospital with a terrible illness and not having family and friends around me.

A few years back, I learned a technique for providing aroma massage to patients. Feeling the caring contact of another human being is so helpful for patients, and I thought it would be a great way to provide comfort to patients dealing with COVID-19 in the intensive care units. These patients could not communicate with their loved ones at all, and nursing staff had to limit their time with patients in intensive care as much as possible to avoid contracting the virus. I emailed the chief nursing officer and asked if I could provide aroma massage to the patients, and be a source of comfort for them. I also spoke with the ICU’s management team; everyone welcomed the idea.

I began to apply aroma massage to patients’ hands and feet with jojoba oil alone, instead of aroma therapy, as the patients’ respiratory systems were compromised. I donned an N-95 mask, a surgical mask, my glasses, a hair covering, a face shield, an impervious gown and, of course, gloves prior to entering the isolation rooms.

The patients were completely sedated at first, so I wasn’t sure if they were responding to the therapy. But as time went by and the sedation was lightened, patients were able to open their eyes and nod their heads to answer questions. All patients were intubated, had arterial lines, were monitored continuously, and had tube feedings, rectal tubes and foley catheters. Intravenous lines were threaded under the doors to enable nurses to change bags and adjust settings outside the room to minimize contact with the patients.

I was a teaching assistant for part of my master’s program at SHU this past spring when Rebecca Jones, clinical assistant professor, introduced me to a webinar series developed by a psychiatric mental health clinical nurse specialist at Rutgers University. It was titled, “Healing Ourselves While Healing Others: Nursing During the Coronavirus Pandemic.” Students could view the webinars in lieu of responses to peers on discussion questions. The hope was that students would be able to gain inner strength and start to heal themselves, as many were on the front lines during the pandemic. One of the presenters introduced a healing technique during each of the seven webinars. A technique that struck me was a simple reflexology exercise people can apply to their hands, and I found it to be so calming and centering, that I decided to adapt it for my massage of patients’ hands and feet.

As time went by, some patients began to awaken and were able to be extubated (sadly, many did not). These patients responded to me and, when they were able to speak, they expressed their gratitude for the massages. This amazed me, as I was not sure they felt comfort when I was tending to them. Now I saw patients relax; I saw their swollen limbs become less fluid-filled; I saw the extremely dry skin on their hands and feet soften, and they began to ask the nurses when I would be coming in again. As they recovered, through the hard work and dedication of the nurses, doctors, healthcare providers, nursing assistants and therapists (respiratory, physical therapy, etc.), I followed them to the step-down and medical-surgical units. We formed special bonds that will follow me through the rest of my nursing career. We talked about their lives, their loved ones and the effects of the virus. Three very special patients I cared for were discharged from the hospital—two went to rehab units and one went home. Those were amazing victories for the entire medical team.

I also was blessed to provide family members with virtual visits through the use of an electronic tablet. One patient was a Muslim, and his wife asked if she could play a prayer for him. I watched as she walked through her house to turn on the prayer, and then as she walked back to her kitchen. She set down her tablet so she could see her husband, and then she started washing dishes. At first, I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but I suddenly realized that she just wanted him there with her as she did this task to get a sense of normalcy. She wanted him there with her while she washed the dishes, as he likely always did at home, and this virtual visit gave her that comfort. Throughout the call, she would turn toward the tablet, and a small smile would cross her face as she looked at her husband. She asked me if she could play another prayer, and I absolutely said yes. How could I say no?

Although the experiences I had caring for these patients were scary at times (the risk of contracting the virus was always on my mind), I would not trade them for a million dollars. Being able to provide that human touch and human connection to those who were so dreadfully ill was a blessing, and I feel privileged to have been able to provide it to them.