A few years ago my wife came home and told me her car was stalling. I knew this was impossible, so I decided to drive her car just to prove her wrong. Trouble is, I proved something else. Her car did stall. It stalled on her and it stalled on me, and the only thing I managed to prove was that I wasn’t listening.

So I took the car to the mechanic and explained the story. But this time the roles were reversed—I became the person not believed. He wouldn’t listen to me. He drove the car and guess what happened…nothing! The car drove fine. So I did what any reasonable person would do: fired the mechanic and got a new car. Problem solved.

Can you relate to this story? Have ever been ignored like this? Whether it’s a mechanic, server, spouse, or a child? How did it make you feel? Does it feel good? Does it frustrate you or make you angry?

How can we talk about empathy, or appreciate someone’s experiences, or share their feelings, if we never take the time to listen to them?

Eleven years ago a 24-year-old man who had numbness in his right hand walked into an urgent care facility. He thought he was going to have a stroke. He was discharged and sent on his way.

A few days later, he went to another facility with the same complaint. No one would listen and he was sent away again. A few days later he went to the emergency department (ED) and now everyone was listening because the numbness had taken over half of his body. He failed the dysphagia screen and tests revealed a small ischemic area in the left parietal lobe.

Why do I tell you this story? Because this is the story of me. This is my story. My experiences as a patient led me back to school to make a change to a new career—a career where I have the ability to impact other’s lives. Because I know what it feels like to be ignored, to be forgotten, and most importantly, what it feels like to be treated like a disease or condition, instead of a person.

In the ED, where I now work, patients cede to the unending journey of testing and waiting, oblivious to time, like a cloud drifting across an open sky. Losing their sense of control while remaining hopeful, they become riddled with fear, plagued by anxiety, and full of despair.

Each journey is as unique as the diagnosis and every emotion is capable of transfiguring into an otherwise unnoticeable expression; a stare that conveys utter fear of the unknown, a tear that represents anger and frustration with the loss of independence, and a hug that says thanks for doing everything you could, but I’m not ready to move on.

Caring for patients in their greatest time of need requires empathy, to share in the journey and care for their needs while they traverse through the unknown, like a boat drifting in the sea.

As an ED nurse, sometimes I feel like a passenger in the boat, barely holding on. Sometimes I feel like I’m steering the boat, and other times I feel like I’m overboard, unable to tread water.

I know what it’s like to come to the ED, seeing the brightly lit hospital sign as a beacon of hope in a sea of despair; surrendering myself to the unknown and waiting impatiently for bad news.

This is my story. You have your own stories and so do our patients. Although we have different experiences, we are all connected through the same basic emotions. I know what it’s like to be scared, to be angry, to be sad, and to want to give up. I also know what it’s like to be happy.

We have all been ignored at some point and know how it makes us feel. By combining listening with an emotional understanding, we can build the foundation for empathy. Together we can build a more impactful relationship with our patients.

I know what it’s like to be ignored and left alone. That’s why I try to take the time to listen to every patient’s story. To take the time to talk to them and treat them as a person and not as a disease or condition.

Can you think of a time in your practice where you ignored someone? Someone you could have helped…or should have helped? And now, what are you going to do to change it?

Eric Keller is an RN in the emergency department at Cleveland Clinic Akron General in Akron, Ohio.