Causes: National Marrow Awareness Month.

November is National Marrow Awareness Month.  I have personally seen the impact marrow donation can make for individuals and families alike.  This story belongs to Mary, the wonderful and strong mother of my good friend, Adam.  It seems that blood donation is common knowledge (which is great, it's important!), but marrow donation is not discussed or considered nearly as often.  I would say the impact one can make by donating bone marrow is difficult to put into words, but Mary proved me wrong.  After following Mary's story and now reading this post, she sums it up well when she says, "Cancer took things from me, but it also gave me things that I never could have expected." Thank you so much to Mary for sharing this journey.  I'm resisting the urge to go on and on in this intro and I will let Mary do the talking.

When Ali asked me to write something for her blog, my first thought was I can’t do this… but how could I say no? So, please bear with me and ignore any grammar issues :)

2011 was fast approaching; I was in the midst of changing jobs, busy with the holidays, and doing the juggle act between being a wife and mother. Life was crazy busy. January came and I was feeling run down. I found myself having to take breaks during my Zumba classes because I was so short of breath. I caught a cold, with a bad cough, head ache, and low grade fevers. After much nagging from my dear husband, Ross, I made an appointment at our family clinic. 

It was Friday, January 21^st, 4 pm appointment. I was seen by a resident, who after examining me thought it was most likely a sinus infection and gave me an antibiotic. He also asked me to have a blood sample drawn since I had been feeling run down. At 6 pm that evening I received a call from the resident. He explained that my blood sample showed some things that were a little worrisome, and they would like me to come in to the clinic the next morning to see a staff physician. The warning bells in my head went off. I have worked in the medical field since 1983, mostly in GI, but I knew enough to know that this was not good. I asked the physician, “what labs were they concerned about?” He told me my white count and platelets were very low. I remember saying "it’s not leukemia right, my white count would be high?” He reassured me it could be lots of things; they would need to do a little more testing to find out for sure what was going on. I remember hanging up the phone, and thinking I have CANCER. I found my darling husband, and told him about the call; he was in total shock as I told him I think I have cancer. I felt numb, I called my sister and told her, as I talked it was like I was talking about someone else. This really couldn't be happening to me. I am only 47, I have too much to do. I can’t have cancer. Saturday morning my husband and I sat and listened as another doctor told us that this looked like it could be a blood disorder, possibly cancer. He wanted us to have another blood draw on Monday morning and scheduled an appointment with oncology. Oncology…the cancer department. We were in total shock. I don’t even remember the ride home.

I come from a large family with 6 sisters, who are my go-to people, my rock. One phone call was all it took and within minutes the rest of family had been notified and the prayer chain and Google searches had begun. It was the longest weekend, waiting for Monday so we could get some answers. I didn’t cry, or break down even once. I had calmness about me, call it shock, or faith, but it got me though that awful waiting period. Ross was a wreck, hovering over me.  My symptoms were increasing fast. By Sunday evening Ross was calling the emergency nurse line because my fever had increased, I had uncontrollable shakes, and my heart rate was extremely high. They told him to continue to monitor me and to bring me to the ER if things progressed. We survived the night. Monday he dropped me off at work, I had my blood drawn. I went to work and started to clean up my work area, it was like I was in nesting mode, like when you are pregnant, and you start to organize everything to prepare for what is coming. I asked my new supervisor to meet with me. We sat in the cafeteria, and I told her I think I might have cancer. I might need to take some time off. I was in robot mode, checking things off the list, still not crying. By 10 am I was feeling awful, so Ross took me home and put me to bed. At 11 am my physician called and told me that I needed to be admitted to the hospital as soon as possible. The blood tests were back and it appeared to be Leukemia. More testing was needed. I was crashing fast, feeling extremely week, and nauseated, I could feel my pulse beating like a drum in my head. I vomited in the hospital lobby waiting room. The first person who saw me was a 1^st year medical resident; he was so calming, and caring. As he was getting ready to leave the room he stopped and smiled at me, and said “do not be afraid, God takes care of those who take care of his people”. I felt this peace wash over me.

The days that followed became a blur of blood test, IV’s, medication, and a bone marrow biopsy. I developed sores in my mouth and tongue, making it hard to eat or talk. The biopsy results confirmed what we feared, Acute Myeloid Leukemia, a very fast spreading blood cancer. They explained my options: chemo alone, giving me a 20-40 percent life expectancy of 5 years; Or chemotherapy, radiation, and a stem cell transplant upping my odds to 50 percent. I remember looking over at Ross and saying well I have always been average so 50 percent sounded pretty good to me.

My chemotherapy started the next day, which consisted of 24 hours a day for 7 days. My fevers soared to 105 degrees, I was hallucinating, and my body shook uncontrollably. They moved me to the intensive care unit, putting me on an ice bed to try to bring down the fevers. My family hovered in the waiting room, praying, feeling helpless. Ross was exhausted, staying with me 24/7.

The transplant doctors were so excited to hear I had 6 sisters who could possibly be a stem cell match. Siblings offer the best chance of survival, and less chance of side effects post-transplant. All of my lovely sisters stepped up to the plate and got tested. It took about 2 weeks to get all the results, we were devastated to find out not one of them was a match. There are 10 things they look for and we needed a 10 out of 10 match. Our transplant doctor, who I think of as my guardian angel, told us not to worry. He would find a match. They contacted the Be the Match Foundation and had them run their registry to see if anyone was a match. I started to lose my hair, so I asked the nurse to shave it off. This gave me a sense of control, when everything else in my life was turning upside down. I just needed to have a say in something.

Cancer is like a snake curling though your body, eating away at you. Chemotherapy is like the Marines coming in to destroy the cancer but killing all that is in its path: The good, the bad and the ugly. It leaves you weak, bald, nauseated, vomiting, anxious, and worst of all you never know what horror to expect next. Cancer took things from me, but it also gave me things that I never could have expected. It strengthened my faith in God. It pushed me to really evaluate my life. It encouraged me to talk to people in my life with whom I needed to make amends, and also with ones that I needed to ask forgiveness from. It reminded me to tell my family and friends how much I loved them. I started to read the bible, and began to build a relationship with my creator. It deepened my relationship with my husband, and children.

Throughout this nightmare I witnessed so many good things. People from all areas of my life began donating blood, platelets, and signing up to be bone marrow donors. It introduced me to so many others fighting the same disease as me; children, teens, men, and moms just like me. Each of them taught me so much about life, courage, and love. Most of all, this experience and the people that I encountered during it taught me about faith.

Fast forward a little while, and we were given the news we were waiting for. They found the PERFECT MATCH! A 24 year old girl from Germany was my match.  We were overcome with joy.

The cancer journey is a lot like the Wizard of Oz.  You’re traveling along the yellow brick road, admiring the beautiful scenery and BAM, out of nowhere you are hit with flying monkeys, a wicked witch, and a whole lot of questions. The good old doctor informed us that he had been worried about my high antibody count and had some additional tests done on my potential donor’s blood, and mine. We were eventually told that the transplant was canceled, because the donor’s and my antibodies would not do well together. The transplant would have most likely killed me.  We felt broken. What now? The search began again for another donor. Another round of chemotherapy began.

Imagine being on a crazy roller coaster ride. That best describes the ups and downs my journey. Each time we were given a little ray of hope, we celebrated. We were excited to think we were at the end of the ride, only to have it take a crazy turn that had us free falling into another nightmare. Cancer teaches you that you really don’t control of much in this life. Those things we treasure are just those…things. Like my pastor often says you don’t ever see a hearse pulling a U-hall behind them.

Late April we were once again blessed. Another donor had been found! This time it was a 20 year old female. A truly PERFECT match. Within a month the process had begun.  The transplant was scheduled for July 15^th; I would have more chemotherapy and 3 days of full body radiation prior to the transplant. This would once again kill off all my cells, and prepare me for the new stem cells. My donor would be given a growth hormone for a few days to increase her stem cell count. Once her counts were high enough they would draw the stem cells by running her blood through a machine which pulled the stem cells out, and then returned the remaining blood to her. The stem cells would be placed in an IV bag, then into a little red cooler and flown immediately to our hospital. I was feeling overwhelmed for the first time since this journey began. I worried about my donor. I kept thinking about what she had to go through.  Would I want my child to go through something like this? I worried for myself also. I was petrified of radiation. I am not really sure why, after going through chemotherapy, how bad could it be? But I was shaken; I asked everyone I knew to pray for me. Our doctor, the guardian angel, sat us down and gave us all the dirty details of the transplant. He explained that there was 25 percent rate of dying in the first 100 days. We would need to stay in a transplant house for this time period to be close to the hospital in case of an emergency. I would need 24 hour a day supervision. Ross had already been away from work since January, and his boss was putting pressure on him to come back to work.

The roller coaster of emotions was running high. My sisters rallied, and put together a list of caregivers which would allow Ross to work during the days and watch over me during the night. I felt so blessed to have such a loving group of family and friends.  At the same time I was fighting emotions of helplessness. I was always the caretaker, the server, but I had been demoted to being cared for. It was humbling.

The hospital stays, tests, medications, and not working was causing a great financial strain on my husband. Once again our friends and family rallied by putting together fundraisers to take some of the pressure off. This too was blessing, and very humbling. Over and over people stepped up to help us. Cancer has shown us there is so much good still in the world. People DO care.

We witnessed the true power of prayer. We didn't get every prayer answered with a yes, and many times we didn't understand why, but after time passed we saw that God had a better plan. This journey has taught me to trust in God’s promise that I don’t need to fear, because I will never be left alone. God will always go with me. He didn't promise life would be easy, but He did promise if I placed my faith in him He would provide me with all the strength and courage I would need to get through anything.

The evening before my first radiation treatment a peace washed over me, and I slept like a baby. Morning came; the escort wheeled me to the treatment area with my husband, son and youngest daughter in tow. As we waited, I felt so much peace.  It was as if my wheel chair was floating off the ground. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

July 15^th, Transplant Day, had arrived. The skies opened, and rain poured down. The clouds were black as night, and streets began to flood. We waited, and worried the little red cooler would not be able to make the flight. My family and friends came, decorated my room with streamers and delivered a birthday cake. We waited. Around 5 pm the little red cooler arrived and the transplant began. With my husband, and 3 beautiful children present, the liquid gold was placed into me. My sisters, parents, and best friend took turns celebrating with us blowing birthday horns and singing Happy Birthday.

In June of 2012, I was blessed with the opportunity to meet my donor and her friends and family. We got a chance to thank her, and to show her what her selfless gift she had given to me and my loved ones. She had given us sweet, precious time.

I do not fear death. I believe this is earth is a stepping stone to something far greater than I can ever imagine. I am so grateful for this precious time. I have learned on this journey that in life there will always be troubles. Some are big, some are small. It is how we respond that will affect the outcomes. We each have a choice with how we react; I choose to be faithful, to live life to the fullest, and enjoy all that is given to me. I choose to make a difference on this earth with every second of time God blesses me with. I want to die with no regrets.

Here is the link to the Be The Match Foundation registry.  It only takes about 15 minutes to register. It consists of signing a consent, swabbing your mouth with a Q-tip (a kit can be sent to your home) and then having your data stored in a database. This database is used by hospitals all over to find matches for patients in need. If you are one of them, the Be the Match Foundation will contact you to see If you are willing to be a donor.  If you still are, they will schedule a set of tests to see if you qualify. If you do, you will be asked to donate stem cells or bone marrow. 75% of donations in the US are done using stem cells.  A donor is given a medication to bump up the stem cells in their blood, which can take 2-5 days. Once the magic number is reached, a clinic will harvest the stem cells. They start an IV and draw the blood which goes into a machine that pulls only the stem cells, and returns the remaining blood to the donor. This takes about 4 hours. For a bone marrow harvest, they collect the cells under anesthesia; it takes about 2-3 hours. You do not have to take the medication prior to this procedure. They insert a needle to collect the cells from your hip area. You wear a bandage for 24 hours, and may experience some aching. Overall, a small price to pay to give someone life!

Be The Match: http://www.bethematch.org/Support-the-Cause/Donate-bone-marrow/Join-the-marrow-registry/


Click here to read the other Causes series posts

Vaccines.

Snickering over here wondering what bloggy world thought a title like "Vaccines" would mean.  I'm not going to argue for/against vaccines here, sorry folks.  And you're welcome.

While we fully vaccinate and on schedule (ourselves and our offspring, dog included), this post isn't about how we came to that conclusion.  My biggest peer pressure to other parents and parents-to-be on this topic is to please make an informed decision.  Do your homework, discuss it, and decide what you think is best.  That's kind of my philosophy on parenting in general.  Well, that and be flexible and open minded as things can change.  Anyway, that's all I've got on that.

Since we vaccinate Myra, she needed a flu shot.  We don't do shots during a food trial and won't start a food trial when shots are coming up, just to avoid and potentially confusing symptoms.  Since our fiasco on Monday, we're taking a week off food trials, so now was the perfect time to squeeze in her flu shot.  Funny story, when I called to make the appointment at the shot clinic, they asked, "When does Myra want to come in for the shot?"  I said, "Uh...I don't think she does?" The woman on the phone got a good laugh.  Anyway, back to my point...

We have always (except maybe once? I think we forgot our carrier) "worn" Myra during her shots.  However you can get the job done is fine by me, and I mean no judgment by how this may sound, but I just can't bring myself to physically hold Myra down while they give her shots (as many as three in a row).  I'm all about vaccines and Trevor and I have agreed the benefits outweigh the downfalls for us, but that doesn't make the act of getting shots enjoyable for anyone. 

For shots, my preference is a soft structured carrier (Tula, Ergo, Boba, Beco, Lillebaby, and many other options).  I put her in pants that can easily be pulled all the way up (or shorts if it's warm), but leg warmers would be awesome for this purpose, too.  I wear her on my front and just make sure the nurse will have plenty of upper thigh access.  I don't ask for their 'permission' because they are still completely able to do their job.  I guess I figure if they want my help restraining my child, we're going to do it on my terms.  By asking (I did once just to be polite), the nurse just gets a little flustered trying to figure out how it will work, when I know it will be just fine...and easier on everyone.  Plus, well, it's my kid, so I don't ask for permission.

So, Myra in carrier, one shoulder strap down if that makes it easier, pants hiked up, I hold her arm down and the nurse gives the shot.  Done.  As I see it, much easier than trying to hold a baby (or toddler) down on a bed, especially now when Myra knows exactly what's coming.  I'm instantly holding Myra, we can walk around, sit down, whatever works best for her to relax.  I am able to grab my stuff to leave while still holding her.  Even if you have a smaller carrier that  might not fit perfectly anymore, that's just fine for this purpose.  In fact, having that extra access in the upper leg area is a bonus. 

Causes: Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month.

A friend of mine, Taryn, came to me saying a relative may be interested in sharing their family's Cystic Fibrosis story as part of my Causes series.  My friend connected me with Tami and she graciously shared Emily's story with me and now with all of you.  I love Emily's awareness and responsibility in managing her Cystic Fibrosis, but I wish it weren't necessary.  I couldn't agree more with Tami's question, "Wouldn’t be wonderful if her children got to live in a world where people are only aware of CF as a disease that used to be?"

May is Cystic Fibrosis awareness month. 

My daughter, Emily, has Cystic Fibrosis. 

Diagnosed just a precious few days after birth, she has never, not been aware of CF.  She does not know life without taking multiple medications every day and spending up to two hours every day wearing a vibrating vest to help clear mucus from her lungs.  She is as aware of CF as she is of her own breathing, her own thoughts, her own being.

Today, as we participated in Great Strides, the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation’s biggest fundraiser at Milwaukee’s lakefront, I caught a glimmer of how deep her connection of self to CF is.  The Emcee of the event said something like “Let’s find a cure for CF” and Emily, in a quiet moment between just the two of us looked up and said, “No.”  I wasn’t surprised. She has a tendency to be Little Miss Contrary.  But I asked, “Wouldn’t you like a world without enzymes and your vest every day?”  “Yes,” she replied, “but without CF, I’m not me!”

At age 8, Emily’s awareness of her disease is changing.  She has what some people might find a surprising amount of knowledge about CF.  She can give a pretty good, age appropriate explanation of why she has CF and her sister doesn’t.  She understands that in order for a person to get CF, they have to have received the “Bad” CF gene from their mom and their dad.  (“Bad” is her word in this case.  I have always been very careful to use “Changed” when talking about the gene mutation to my girls, to try to avoid a negative association.  But, go figure, her brain translated it to “Bad” anyway.) She knows that she got two CF genes and her sister may have gotten just one, or none at all.

Emily can tell you that CF causes her body to make too much mucus.  She doesn’t understand, yet, that it is a defect in the movement of sodium and chloride (salt) through the cells that causes the mucus production.  She does know, however, that mucus is where infections like to grow, she must not only wear her vest to break up the mucus, she also needs to inhale two medications through a nebulizer, and use an inhaler, just like Dad does when his asthma and allergies make it hard for him to breathe.  She also knows that even though she never misses a treatment, infections can still grow.  Catching a common cold can bring on a “pulmonary exacerbation” (words she does not know) and land her in the hospital for a “tune up” (words she does know).  Tune ups are 2-3 week hospital stays during which Emily gets IV antibiotics through a PICC line placed in her arm, and respiratory treatments four times daily.  During her first grade year at school, she did this twice.  Her doctors gave her a special 4-hour pass so that she could go to school to sing in her Christmas program, but, she missed a lot of fun End Of The Year activities during  her next stay in May/June. 

Emily knows that she MUST take her digestive enzymes whenever she eats.  At school this year, her teacher simply provides them each day in a small pill case for Emily to keep in her desk.  Emily is in charge of knowing how many she needs (it varies with fat content of the food, but we stick to a general “2 with snack, 4 with meal” rule, with a few notable exceptions.) The enzymes are a necessary part of meal time because the same salt imbalance that cause too much mucus in the lungs causes too little enzyme production in the pancreas.  Emily can explain that the red and white pills she pops down four at a time do the job that the rest of our bodies do, while we aren’t even aware.  In addition to her enzymes, there is a small buffet of pills that she takes at dinner time.  There’s prevacid to combat reflux (a common malady in people with CF, due to incomplete digestion); a special fat soluable vitamin ABDEK tablet because her body cannot absorb these nutrients from food; an extra vitamin D tablet because her annual blood work always shows a deficiency; a probiotic to keep her intestinal tract healthy because God-forbid we have to live the C.diff nightmare again, and azithromycin on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays which she takes as an anti- inflammatory agent.  Emily no longer needs to be asked to take her pills.  She just gets the container out of the pantry and does what she needs to do.  She just told me that she’d like a “pill schedule box” for her birthday so that she can load it up on Sunday with everything she needs for the week instead of opening each individual bottle every day.  Some birthday present!

About 4-6 times a year, this daily regimen is joined by oral antibiotics, which she takes in the morning and evening.  They cannot be taken with some of her other medications.   We start a three week course of antibiotics as soon as we start to hear an increased cough or see other signs of a looming exacerbation.  It is a necessary tool in the fight to stay out of the hospital.  Unfortunately, spending so much time on antibiotics can wreak havoc with the gut.  C. diff, mentioned in the last paragraph is an overgrowth of bad bacteria in the gut, made possible by the killing off (from antibiotic use) of the good bacteria that normally keeps it in check.  C. diff is, well, for us it was hell.  It made her a very, very sick baby for a pretty long time.  We had a hospital stay when she was 15 months to try and get rid of it, but it wasn’t an easy fix.   

There are other things Emily knows about her CF.  Like how her feeding tube, which she got at 18 months and still has in her tummy, helps her get extra calories while she sleeps.   Even with the help of digestive enzymes, a CF patient’s body has a hard time getting the necessary calories from a normal diet, and need to supplement.  Emily is encouraged by her doctors to eat a high fat diet.  She does, but the supplement through the tube has been a God-send.  She is absolutely a normal height and weight, and her body has the energy to run, play, do karate and fight most infections.  She can also explain why, even though she hates them, nightly sinus rinses are a necessity.  She has had several sinus surgeries to clean out mucus and remove nasal polyps, commonly found in CF patients.   

It’s a given that Emily is aware of and knowledgeable about her disease.  She hasn’t been given another choice.  None of us has.  CF is a family thing.  We all take turns sitting with Emily while she shakes in her vest; her big sister sometimes carries enzymes in her purse when we go out; we all take part in fundraising events like Great Strides and Climb for a Cure at the US Bank Building.  I have found that connecting with other CF parents (just the parents, though as patients are forbidden by infection control policies from having close contact with each other) helps me to cope with the stress inherent in any chronic disease, so I am active in a Parent Advisory Board for the CF Clinic at Children’s Hospital, and I volunteer at several events each year.

But, we try and make sure that our lives are not ONLY about CF.  Emily does all the stuff that any other 8 year old girl does.  We’ve even begun to navigate the world of sleepovers…not an easy task when you have to take along a couple large pieces of medical equipment and a host of pills.  She loves to play outside with the neighbors and she absolutely LOVES her karate class.  Karate has captured her heart to the point that she re-named our Great Strides team this year.  We became Emi’s Ninjas, and she designed our team t-shirt!  Most of the time, I feel like we do a good job helping her be a balanced, well rounded kid, not just a kid with CF.  When she expresses worry about someday not having CF, though, I have to wonder.  Have we let her become too aware?  Have we pushed her into seeing herself only as a patient?  Does CF comprise too much of her life?

I hope that in time she will be able to understand that SHE will not cease to exist if we should be so lucky as to someday live in a world where CF does not.  I want her to be able to look back on these years and see how CF has made her who she is becoming.  She is responsible, passionate, determined and empathetic because of CF.  But these qualities are only part of what make her the person that we love so dearly.   

There is no cure for Cystic Fibrosis.  Eventually, all CF patients succumb to the mucus that drowns their lungs and other organs, weakened by the stress of not receiving enough oxygen or nutrients begin to fail.  Currently the median life expectancy is 42 years.  It is our dearest hope that a cure will be found long before Emily reaches that point.  Wouldn’t be wonderful if her children got to live in a world where people are only aware of CF as a disease that used to be?

To donate to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation visit: www.fightcf.cff.com

To read the other posts in this series, click here.

Causes: Nurses Week.

It's nurses week and I'm so glad I easily found a willing author for this post as I have had many wonderful nurses over the years!  Nurses can definitely make or break a medical experience for the patient and loved ones.  I love Chelsea's perspective on the missed time from family and the importance and meaning of her job. Thanks to Chelsea for writing this Causes series post and Happy Nurses Week!

Nursing!!

Stats:

Name Chelsea

Current position: RN. nurse supervisor: at a care care center through Fairview Health Sevices:

Years of nursing.   Offta… years in health care: 10 (as soon as I turned 18 I took my first job in the health care field). Worked years as a licensed nurse: 8.

 

I’ll address the question I get most often first: why did I become a nurse?.  My mom is a nurse, half my family is in healthcare-it was what I knew and what I knew I could be good at.  And, I'm a practical gal- I knew I'd always have a job, make decent wages and the schooling wouldn’t put me in debt until my 40’s.  I don’t have a fabulous story of “the one nurse who changed my life” or “ the dream to change peoples future”. Sorry, I’ve got nothing.  

The question I think is more important to ask nurses is “why did you STAY a nurse”. Nursing school does not prepare you for the job- you can memorize labs and vitals and procedures but true nursing is so much more. It's LONG hours and unpredictable patients and even more unpredictable families, it's mandatory overtime, holidays, weekends, stress, back pain, staff turn over. It's seeing people at their worst while having to be your best- how many patients think back to the nurse they screamed at for more pain meds- you won’t remember us, but we remember you. Nursing can be completely physically and emotionally draining- and a lot of nurses then go home to care for young children and their families- how do you cope when there is no limit to how much of yourself you give.  I have been through every stage of work burn out- more than once. My last jobs 1^st day orientation was to watch a video on work burn out to help nurses identify the signs more quickly- it's inevitable and it's awful. This is a job where no matter how how you try you can't leave work at the door.

I have seen far too many nurse quit in the first year, sometimes first 6 months. For most, I feel nursing is a complete shock when you start your first job. 

To say yes to “ can you work every other holiday is one thing” but how many  Christmas Eves away from your family do you take? As I become older and start thinking of starting my own family I am more aware of the sacrifice of parents. Just last Halloween I was working the evening shift and watched as husbands, grandparents, brought the nurses’ children into my work so their moms could see them in their costumes and I thought “someday my husband will be doing that”. And I pay more notice to the the nurses sharing pictures they get on their phones of their children Christmas morning before they start their am med pass. My own fiancé knows all too well of the 12am phone call on New Year's Eve as I spend another ball drop in my scrubs.

And yet, (besides right now) for the ones who stick the job out you don’t hear us complain. One of my favorite things about nurses is the mindset that “we are all in this together.” How can you complain about missing a girls night out when your co-nurse may be missing her child's 1^st step. You learn that being upset about having to work a mandatory extra shift will not make that shift go by quicker. Our patients lives don’t stop for weekends or nights- nether does our job.  We do it for the passion of taking care of others; a passion they may fade or waver slightly, but is always present in every nurse.

 

I currently and have always worked  in geriatrics or long term care. Its not the most prestigious, fast paced field but its without a doubt where I belong. It can be changing -. everything you think an 80year + person couldn’t do I can firmly say, “ oh yes they can!” I always say if I can mentally survive a double shift working in a locked dementia ward then I can survive anything. And it can be wonderful- to be a part of someone's livf every day- to meet their families, to hear their stories, to become the familiar face they know. 

 Many years ago I had a nurse mentor say to me:

     "When people are born that nurse or doctor will look at the clock and state their time of birth. In sense that is when their life book begins. Their pages fill with stories, memories, and milestones. And when all is said and done, when the book is almost full, they come here [a long term care center] and we get to help them fill the last pages of their book. We are there on the last page- and we have the power to make that one last positive story. Wither it be making sure they are pain free, calling in a beloved family member to be with them or maybe ourselves taking the time to be there with them. And we call the time of death. We are the last sentence of their book."

My job is an honor. I am blessed to meet every patient who comes my way who trusts me with their book. To trust I will give them the care they deserve.  

Click here to see a list of the other posts in this series.