Intensive Care, Intensive Dedication
Ardyce Jacobson usually skips her coffee breaks, so it's odd to see her in the Prairie Mill Café. On the way to a booth, she helps herself to a muffin and cup of lemon tea. Rather than let it steep, she dunks the tea bag repeatedly until the steaming water tints to a pale gold.
She cuts the muffin in half and peels open a pat of margarine. "I love that new phrase, 'May I help you? I have the time,'" she says. "So many people are unsure of where they're going when they get here and have so much on their minds. I get to take them there." Mrs. Jacobson's shift in Intensive Care starts in an hour. Wearing a burgundy volunteer vest, she's been making her way to that floor for 23 of her 46 years as a member of the MeritCare Auxiliary.
The MeritCare Auxiliary first invited volunteers to the halls of what was then St. Luke's Hospital on April 16, 1962. Mrs. Jacobson started in September of that year. "I read about it in the paper and thought that it would be interesting to do," she says. "I had a family and wanted to be home when the kids left for school and returned. But that gave me a few hours in the day."
Mrs. Jacobson's few hours have added up. A pin, decorating her vest just below her left lapel, honors her service hours: 5,000. She says, "I'm not here for the hours." She shakes her head and takes a bite of the muffin. "I like working with and helping people… that's my motivation."
After volunteering for eight years, she moved into the role of Volunteer Director in 1970. When that position became full-time in 1985, she stepped back into the volunteer role. Since that time, 23 years in total, she has worked in Intensive Care. "I'm drawn there," she explains. "Some think that it's too stressful and sometimes I've thought that it would be fun to do something different. But I belong there." She rolls the plastic knife in her muffin wrapper and stuffs it in the empty cup. Mrs. Jacobson continues, "I've lost family members… had my own grief, so I understand what the families are going through."
She stands up and walks down the hall to the East elevators. She steps in and presses the button for the third floor. She says, "3E is almost like home. I know all of the nurses personally. They are kind and supportive and appreciate all that we volunteers do." As the doors slide open, Mrs. Jacobson moves toward the welcome desk and greets the volunteer whose shift is ending.
She then makes her way to one of the family waiting rooms where she wipes up a few stray drips of coffee near the pot on the counter and notices what else needs straightening. Back at the desk, she puts her nameplate in the holder and picks up the list of patients—who's still here, who's new, and who has visitors.
"I feel like I missed my calling," Mrs. Jacobson says. "I should have been a nurse." With a whoosh, the elevator doors open, and two people wander off, clearly looking tentative. Mrs. Jacobson steps forward, introduces herself, and begins her job, serving as a link between the patient's family and hospital staff. "Let me go ask the nurse if he can see visitors," Mrs. Jacobson says. She pulls open the door and disappears into the bustle of Intensive Care.
Posted Date: January 2009