My times are in your hands

As nurses, we sometimes care for people whose lives touch us in a special way. One such person was a 94-year-old woman whom I visited during my weekly care-home rounds. To protect her privacy, identifying details have not been included. When I first began caring for her, she was able to walk and was always sweet and pleasant. She later developed swelling in one leg, so I arranged for her to be assessed in hospital to rule out a deep vein thrombosis. Thankfully, the result was negative. I also considered heart failure, but the initial investigations did not indicate this.

Some time later, she experienced a fall. Although she did not sustain a serious injury, she became increasingly frail, lost confidence in walking and eventually took to her bed. Despite these changes, she remained the same gentle and pleasant person. Over time, she developed worsening dependent oedema, followed by multiple fluid-filled blisters on her limbs. I sought advice and support from the doctors, district nurses, dermatology team and other healthcare professionals. We worked together to understand and manage her condition, but the swelling continued.

As her condition changed, I repeated blood test to diagnose a possibility of heart failure again. This time, the result suggested heart failure. When I visited her the following day, she was extremely unwell and appeared to be approaching the end of her life. I contacted her family and spoke honestly and sensitively about my concerns. We ensured that anticipatory medications were available to keep her comfortable if she deteriorated further. However, because there was still a potentially reversible cause for her symptoms, I also commenced treatment with oral furosemide. I left the care home deeply concerned that she might die very soon. I had done what I could clinically, but I continued to carry her in my thoughts and prayers.

When I returned the following week, I was amazed to find her considerably better. She was brighter, more alert and more like the lovely woman I had come to know. Her recovery was a welcome reminder that clinical decline is not always linear and that, even when death seems near, the course of an illness can still change unexpectedly. It also led me to reflect on the delicate balance at the heart of nursing: we must prepare honestly for what may happen while remaining open to what is still possible.

This experience brought to mind a simple but powerful verse:

“My times are in your hands.” Psalm 31:15

As healthcare professionals, we assess, investigate, treat and prepare for possible outcomes. We use our knowledge, experience and clinical judgement to provide the best possible care. Yet there comes a point when we must humbly recognise that the final outcome is beyond our control. Preparing for someone’s possible death does not mean abandoning hope. Similarly, hoping for recovery does not mean avoiding honest conversations about dying. In this situation, it was important to prepare anticipatory medications and support the family while also treating a potentially reversible condition. Compassionate nursing required me to hold both possibilities together.

As a Christian nurse, I believe that God can work through the knowledge, judgement and hands of healthcare professionals. Faith and clinical practice do not need to compete with each other. We provide evidence-based care, seek appropriate support and advocate for our patients, while trusting God with what we cannot control. This experience also reminded me that every person remains precious, regardless of age or frailty. At 94, this woman was still worthy of careful assessment, appropriate treatment, comfort and hope. We should never assume that nothing more can be done simply because someone is older or approaching the end of life. At the same time, Christian nursing is not measured only by whether a person recovers. Sometimes healing is seen through physical improvement. At other times, it may be found in relief from suffering, reconciliation with loved ones, spiritual peace or a dignified death.

Our calling is to remain compassionate and faithful in every situation. We may not always be able to cure, but we can always care. We can relieve suffering, advocate for those who are vulnerable, support families through uncertainty and recognise the image of God in every person entrusted to us. This dear woman’s unexpected improvement reminded me that neither life nor death is entirely within our hands. We do all that we can: we assess carefully, treat wisely, prepare compassionately and hope faithfully. Then we entrust our patients to the One who holds every life. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we can rest in this: our patients’ times’ and our ‘own’ are held securely in God’s hands. so I believe this verse “My times are in your hands.”

Christy (Rosy) Abbadasari

Vice President, ANIA