Wednesday, September 23, 2015

A Letter to the Family of My Oncology Patient

Dear Family Member of My Oncology patient,

     So you saw us cracking jokes and laughing at the nurses’ station, huh? You must have thought, “what could possibly be funny about this situation – my kid was just diagnosed with cancer after all!” Please know that we are not trying to be insensitive or disrespectful. We hurt alongside you and need to lean on each other for support.

    Sometimes we need to laugh to cope with the sadness around us. Sometimes we make jokes to get through a long, stressful day. Sometimes we laugh because otherwise we might not be able to stop crying. 

    Perhaps I seemed distracted as we talked this morning. I was watching your son's vitals change on the monitor as he received the newest study drug and wanted to make sure I was ready to act quickly if there was an adverse reaction. Please know that I did not mean to seem uninterested. 

    Maybe you thought I didn't care as I slowly backed out of the room during your venting session. I may have seemed short or rude, and you probably complained about me as soon as I left, saying, "she must want to go get lunch before the cafeteria closes". Please know that your feelings are very important to me but today I have 4 patients to care for, blood to infuse, tube feeds to give, antibiotics to hang, new IV's to start, babies to comfort, pain to treat, and anxious parents calling with questions.

    I want you to know that when I see your child struggling to breathe or miserable with a high fever, I think of my own child. I remember times when she's been sick and how scared I was. As you try to maintain your composure, I am reminded of the frailty of our children and fight back tears.  I know it could just as easily be my own baby lying in this hospital bed. 

    I hope you understand that while you were waiting for someone to bring your child’s nausea medication, I was standing by as a teenager took his last breaths, ensuring he was as comfortable as possible, and silently supporting his grieving family. I shed my own quiet tears as his weeping mother held her son, and whispered “it’s ok, you’ve fought this battle for so long.... you can stop now.”

    I’m not sure you realize just how excited we get when a chronic patient finally gets to go home and we know that we were a part of helping you get better. We get to celebrate the end of treatment with you, watch you gain confidence in learning about ANC's, and see our brave kiddos boldly sporting that beautiful baldness. We proudly cheer when we hear about the latest high school graduate or your wonderful Make A Wish trip!!! 



    Your child is not just another patient to us. Each little heart leaves a footprint on ours. You might not realize that we go home to our families at the end of the day and shed tears for you. We hold our loved ones a little closer, feed our empty bellies, and go to bed early so we can come back in the morning to help you fight for your child's future, because you have become our family too.


  Sincerely,
        Your PSCU Nurse



*In honor of September {Childhood Cancer Awareness Month} and all the oncology patients and their families I've been privileged to care for over the last 8 years.*

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