A 30-year-old male, no past medical history, has a cold, sees his PCP, and takes a course of antibiotics; no improvement of symptoms. He’s more short of breath than normal, so urgent care draws labs sends him home. They call him back and tell him he needs to get to an ER immediately. His hemoglobin low, platelets low, and white blood cell count- critically low. We get a bone marrow biopsy to confirm but we are pretty sure it’s… Leukemia. And it is. This man goes from never being in a hospital to being admitted for minimum 30 days as we administer induction chemotherapy and search for a donor- he needs a Bone Marrow Transplant. He has 2 small children at home who can’t visit for infection risk, oh and his wife is pregnant. Without the initiation of chemo immediately- death is quickly approaching.
*(This situation is not an actual patient, but an accumulation of people’s stories we see every day.)
That’s a typical Monday. Actually, that’s 365 days a year. Because cancer doesn’t observe holidays or weekends.
People always think it’s awesome I’m a nurse and ask what specialty I am and when I reply that I work on the cancer unit- the mood changes. They can’t fathom facing the “cancer” word every day. And let me tell you- some days it hits us. I work with the most amazing people. The nurses I “nurse” beside are part of the reason why I can do what I do. But it isn’t easy. Hematology/Oncology isn’t the only hard place. Every single department of nursing has some serious dark spots.
However, nurses are lights. You’re a light to some pretty dark places. These patients are walking out THEE worst days of their lives with new deadly diagnoses. . . their families equally overwhelmed, underprepared, and beside themselves with emotions. And there you are, their nurse. For the next 12 hours, you’re climbing down into their trenches facing their traumas and standing for them. You stand as their confidence, their comfort, their advocate, their life support, their protector, their educator, their joy, and their hands when they can’t feed themselves. You’re their walker when their legs are weak, their supplier of relief when the nausea pain and anxiety won’t relent, and their confidant. Sometimes you’re all they got, their nurse. Your skill sets go beyond what nursing school taught you- starting IVs, placing Foley catheters, pushing meds, changing dressings. I’ve seen your real “skills” surface as you push through shift after shift when you have your own challenges of life at home yet you clock in and your patients are your only concern. No one teaches you how to rise up in times of emergency and code a patient. No one teaches you how to have compassion for the broken people that lash out at you. No one teaches you how to with dignity and honor hold someone’s hand as their heart beats for the last time and you witness their time of death, no one teaches you how to put someone (a mom/dad/sister/brother/son/daughter/ friend) in a body bag. And yet- you do it every day. YOU do all this. You figure out how you stand in the gap for others and then clock out and carry on with your own set of challenges that await you at home. You learn how to put up walls enough to protect yourself from being a bleeding heart and able to function when everything falls apart, but allowing yourself to be close so compassion marks your practice.
Nurses- you’re the real heroes.
Happy Nurses Week!
(Besides the “Mrs.” next to my name- I’m most proud of the RN that follows it)
Vanessa Gilliland, RN, BSN
Hematology/Oncology/Bone Marrow Transplant
Photos by Studio 7 Photography
L❤VE you & your heart! I agree nurses are the true heroes, keep loving & serving well in the toughest of circumstances.
Love this post, Vanessa!!!