Coming Full Circle (part 2)
When I entered nursing school, I just knew nurses were a different breed of people. I knew this already from growing up in a family of nurses, but in school, I realized it was universal, not just a "family thing."
Nurses are strong, independent, deep-thinkers, detail-oriented, loud, caring, empathetic, stubborn, compassionate, patient, well-meaning, flexible, opinionated and your best advocate.
Over my years of nursing, the hierarchy of doctors always being above nurses, has really flattened. It's now a team approach, with the nurses' opinions and assessments being valued, respected, and heard by the whole team, including doctors. So while I'm forever grateful to the doctors involved in Hazel's care, I'm equally grateful for all the nurses (& nurse practioner) that have crossed our path.
There's too many to thank, but know that you all played such a huge role during such a crucial time in our lives. You answered question after question after question without making me feel bad and without judgement. At times, as I heard the questions coming out of my mouth, my heart needed your reassurance, though my mind was saying, "Rachel, you're a nurse, you know the answer to that." You explained every step of the process to me, over and over again. You taught me so much. You listened to me when I had concerns, because you trusted that I knew Hazel best and valued my input. You never once made me feel dumb for asking questions I should have known the answer to. You called me by name as I walked in with Hazel. You always took care of me too, laying out my bedding for the hospital stays, and making sure I had food, drinks, and a warm blanket during the long stays in clinic. You took care of Hazel like she was your family. You brought her gifts, personalized to her interests. You played with her in the hallways. You intentionally made "moments" that we'd remember. You took the time to get to know her. You took the time to get to know me. You took time out of your busy days to sit and talk with me, sometimes about Hazel and the treatment plan, but often just about life. I built valuable friendships from the time we spent together. And the amount of love you showed my girl is unexplainable. You provided the top nursing care, always checking and double checking her medications, continously assessing her port access, scrubbing the IV line religiously, meticulously washing her toys and pacis that fell in the floor, and always taking extra care to wash your hands and keep Hazel safe. Every. Single. Time.
When I went in to nursing, I knew I wanted to care for people in a very intimate way, but I always said, "who could be a pediatric oncology nurse, what a sad place to work." I never imagined that I would be on the receiving end of their care. Though yes, it's a sad place to work I'm sure, they are the backbone that gets families through.
I can tell you now, a pediatric oncology nurse is a nurse with a special calling. They are the epitome of nursing at its core. They are the hub of our experience. They are the first to greet you and the last to bid you farewell. They are in the trenches on the bad nights and the ones who encourage and celebrate you in the victories. They get to know you, your family, and your child. By the end of our hospital admissions, I didn't even have to ask for our minor preferences, they knew we were coming and were ready for us with everything we needed.
I couldn't be prouder of my profession. Both the nurses outpatient and the nurses inpatient are my friends, connected by profession, heart and of course our love for Hazel. I felt uplifted and reignited in my love of nursing through you all. The passion and love for your cancer kids, is deeper than anyone can understand. So thank you!
Thank you for your care.
Thank you for your compassion.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for your reassurance.
Thank you for your time.
Thank you for being on our side.
Thank you for advocating.
Thank you for loving us.
This is nursing.![<block type=]()
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Nurses are strong, independent, deep-thinkers, detail-oriented, loud, caring, empathetic, stubborn, compassionate, patient, well-meaning, flexible, opinionated and your best advocate.
Over my years of nursing, the hierarchy of doctors always being above nurses, has really flattened. It's now a team approach, with the nurses' opinions and assessments being valued, respected, and heard by the whole team, including doctors. So while I'm forever grateful to the doctors involved in Hazel's care, I'm equally grateful for all the nurses (& nurse practioner) that have crossed our path.
There's too many to thank, but know that you all played such a huge role during such a crucial time in our lives. You answered question after question after question without making me feel bad and without judgement. At times, as I heard the questions coming out of my mouth, my heart needed your reassurance, though my mind was saying, "Rachel, you're a nurse, you know the answer to that." You explained every step of the process to me, over and over again. You taught me so much. You listened to me when I had concerns, because you trusted that I knew Hazel best and valued my input. You never once made me feel dumb for asking questions I should have known the answer to. You called me by name as I walked in with Hazel. You always took care of me too, laying out my bedding for the hospital stays, and making sure I had food, drinks, and a warm blanket during the long stays in clinic. You took care of Hazel like she was your family. You brought her gifts, personalized to her interests. You played with her in the hallways. You intentionally made "moments" that we'd remember. You took the time to get to know her. You took the time to get to know me. You took time out of your busy days to sit and talk with me, sometimes about Hazel and the treatment plan, but often just about life. I built valuable friendships from the time we spent together. And the amount of love you showed my girl is unexplainable. You provided the top nursing care, always checking and double checking her medications, continously assessing her port access, scrubbing the IV line religiously, meticulously washing her toys and pacis that fell in the floor, and always taking extra care to wash your hands and keep Hazel safe. Every. Single. Time.
When I went in to nursing, I knew I wanted to care for people in a very intimate way, but I always said, "who could be a pediatric oncology nurse, what a sad place to work." I never imagined that I would be on the receiving end of their care. Though yes, it's a sad place to work I'm sure, they are the backbone that gets families through.
I can tell you now, a pediatric oncology nurse is a nurse with a special calling. They are the epitome of nursing at its core. They are the hub of our experience. They are the first to greet you and the last to bid you farewell. They are in the trenches on the bad nights and the ones who encourage and celebrate you in the victories. They get to know you, your family, and your child. By the end of our hospital admissions, I didn't even have to ask for our minor preferences, they knew we were coming and were ready for us with everything we needed.
I couldn't be prouder of my profession. Both the nurses outpatient and the nurses inpatient are my friends, connected by profession, heart and of course our love for Hazel. I felt uplifted and reignited in my love of nursing through you all. The passion and love for your cancer kids, is deeper than anyone can understand. So thank you!
Thank you for your care.
Thank you for your compassion.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for your reassurance.
Thank you for your time.
Thank you for being on our side.
Thank you for advocating.
Thank you for loving us.
This is nursing.
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