Darrell KSR
09-29-2016, 03:26 PM
Thought no better way to highlight it than to post this from a pediatric cancer nurse.
Yes, Pediatric Cancer awareness month is coming to a close. With that being said, why isn't every month a time to be aware of pediatric cancer? To be aware and to take action?
Since becoming a nurse 5 years ago, I have truly found my heart in caring for these patients. For these little fighters. For the warriors who, despite all odds, are beating the cancer beast every day. And it's hard. It's really, really hard. I still struggle with answering the question "I don't know how you do it." Because some days, I don't either. Some days I leave work defeated. Some days I leave exhausted after double and triple checking chemo doses and calculations to ensure patients get the exact correct drug dose, because too little of a dose won't kill the cancer, and too large of a dose could kill the patient. It's a fine line.
Some days, I leave heartbroken knowing that, despite how far modern medicine has come, no amount of pain medication can truly take away the pain of a child's body racked with leukemic cells or a family's heartbreak. Some days involve multiple phone calls with fellows or attendings overnight because something about a patient just doesn't seem right. Some days are spent transfusing blood product after blood product after blood product, to what may seem to be of only little benefit. And some days are spent spending hours just being present with a family as they take in a new cancer diagnosis.
But there are also good days. Days spent dancing to Enrique Iglesias before bedtime. Days spent leaving work to come home and add another patient's artwork to the fridge. Days spent taking a child outside to see the stars for the first time in months. Days spent figuring out how to normalize life for teens during the biggest transitional period. Days spent learning of former patients in remission, who are now going to college to study nursing. Days spent playing IV pole-style kickball in between cycles of chemo. Days spent singing and days spent laughing. And honestly, even in the middle of heartbreak, days spent remembering there is something so inherently beautiful and humbling about being able to be let into the lives of these children and their families during the most raw and vulnerable time imaginable. We wish, we hope, and we pray for these children and their families. And most importantly, we fight with them, and we fight for them.
I think Walt Whitman said it best when he said "To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle." Easily both the most difficult, but also the most rewarding thing I've ever done, I can't imagine doing anything else besides pediatric oncology nursing. It's life-changing. I am beyond blessed to be able to do what I do, and am so grateful for the coworkers that fight for our warriors alongside me.
Let's make every month childhood cancer awareness day. Be aware, open up your hearts to the cause, and take action 💛💛
Yes, Pediatric Cancer awareness month is coming to a close. With that being said, why isn't every month a time to be aware of pediatric cancer? To be aware and to take action?
Since becoming a nurse 5 years ago, I have truly found my heart in caring for these patients. For these little fighters. For the warriors who, despite all odds, are beating the cancer beast every day. And it's hard. It's really, really hard. I still struggle with answering the question "I don't know how you do it." Because some days, I don't either. Some days I leave work defeated. Some days I leave exhausted after double and triple checking chemo doses and calculations to ensure patients get the exact correct drug dose, because too little of a dose won't kill the cancer, and too large of a dose could kill the patient. It's a fine line.
Some days, I leave heartbroken knowing that, despite how far modern medicine has come, no amount of pain medication can truly take away the pain of a child's body racked with leukemic cells or a family's heartbreak. Some days involve multiple phone calls with fellows or attendings overnight because something about a patient just doesn't seem right. Some days are spent transfusing blood product after blood product after blood product, to what may seem to be of only little benefit. And some days are spent spending hours just being present with a family as they take in a new cancer diagnosis.
But there are also good days. Days spent dancing to Enrique Iglesias before bedtime. Days spent leaving work to come home and add another patient's artwork to the fridge. Days spent taking a child outside to see the stars for the first time in months. Days spent figuring out how to normalize life for teens during the biggest transitional period. Days spent learning of former patients in remission, who are now going to college to study nursing. Days spent playing IV pole-style kickball in between cycles of chemo. Days spent singing and days spent laughing. And honestly, even in the middle of heartbreak, days spent remembering there is something so inherently beautiful and humbling about being able to be let into the lives of these children and their families during the most raw and vulnerable time imaginable. We wish, we hope, and we pray for these children and their families. And most importantly, we fight with them, and we fight for them.
I think Walt Whitman said it best when he said "To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle." Easily both the most difficult, but also the most rewarding thing I've ever done, I can't imagine doing anything else besides pediatric oncology nursing. It's life-changing. I am beyond blessed to be able to do what I do, and am so grateful for the coworkers that fight for our warriors alongside me.
Let's make every month childhood cancer awareness day. Be aware, open up your hearts to the cause, and take action 💛💛