She restores hope for head injury patients
A rehabilitation nurse who never gives up
Shannon Worden
Working on the traumatic brain injury unit at Spaulding Rehabilitation Center in Boston has made nurse Shannon Worden almost afraid of life. She sees victims of falls, car and motorcycle accidents, assaults, and other unexpected tragedies. "It's not like they were skydiving, but just driving to work, or climbing a ladder," she says.
Patients range from those in a persistent comatose state to seemingly normal victims who actually suffer from cognitive defects such as confusion and memory loss. From the day Worden first walked onto the floor three years ago, and viewed the devastating effects of a jarring blow or jolt to the head, she has always worn her seatbelt, donned a helmet before skiing, and refused to get on a motorcycle.
"There are so many tragic cases," says Worden, a registered nurse who started her career at Spaulding. "But you can't change what happened to them. You can only make today and their future better."
It takes a particular type of nurse to work with those suffering from traumatic brain injury (TBI). "Bones will heal, but brain injuries require a specialized team," says Worden, who explains that a head injury can cause a wide range of functional changes that affect not just thinking, but also language, learning, emotions, behavior, and sensations. For loved ones who want a reassuring prognosis, Worden is forced to reply, "No one can tell you what the brain will do. Every injury is so specific, and the unpredictability of the outcome makes it difficult for families."
It was a grim prognosis that seemed to await Spc. Vincent Mannion, a 19-year-old soldier who was severely injured by an explosion in Iraq. A CAT scan indicated that the verbal center of his brain was completely destroyed, and the doctor informed his family, including his sister Colleen Mannion, that he would never walk or talk again. "There are no words for how devastated we were," says Colleen. "It was the worst time of my life."
But as his nurse, Worden believed from the start that Vincent would improve. She worked and worked with him, hoping to restore his mental and physical abilities, but with little response. Then one day, after weeks of therapy and medication, as he lay restless in bed, she said to him, "Blink your eyes and hold them closed if anything hurts." And he did. A few months later, Vincent even said the word "no" while she was cleaning his wounds with hydrogen peroxide, a painful ordeal that he hated.
That was the beginning of a miraculous recovery, an uphill battle in which Worden has been an integral part. "Shannon was amazing. She wasn't just my brother's caretaker, she became part of our family," says Colleen, who nominated Worden for her Salute to Nurses recognition. "You need a certain personality to work with the brain injured population," says co-worker and fellow nurse Deb Fitzpatrick. "And Shannon has that ability to communicate and make patients forget about their frustration and anger. She'll even do cartwheels to make someone laugh." According to Vincent and his family, she also does a mean Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation.
Vincent has left the ward now, and new patients arrive and leave every day, but Worden is a constant on the 8th Floor TBI unit. Today she puts on some music in a patient's room. He can't speak, even to ask for a glass of water, and he seems agitated, squirming around in bed. But when the melody fills the room, Worden turns and looks at the monitor; his heart rate has dropped. He's calming down. She's doing her job. The patient feels better. "I know he's in there somewhere," says Worden. "The man he used to be." 