Reality Check

The other day as I was driving to work, I was talking on the phone with my mom.  We talked about Zachary and his injured ankle. The fact that he may have to wait to serve a mission in order for his ankle to heal. We discussed how difficult of a trial this has been, not only for him, but us as a family as we have watched him go through this; supporting him in anyway we could. Why couldn't the surgery have worked? Why couldn't this have happened AFTER he returned home from his mission? Shouldn't all righteous desires be rewarded? But with no real answers to these questions, I had to end the conversation since I had arrived at the hospital.

As I walked on to the floor, my focus changed to "work mode". I hung my coat up on the rack, put my lunch in the fridge, and took my pen and paper with me, ready to start my next 12 hours. After receiving report from the previous nurse, and planning out my day, I went to meet my patients. The last room I walked into, I found a young man, laying in bed. He had a bald head with no eyebrows, sunken eyes, and wearing a hospital gown. His wonderful mom sat on the couch next him. This snapshot picture is not uncommon for me to see. It's actually quite normal. 

But this time, it was different.

As I spoke with him and his mom, thoughts raced through my head. As soon as I left the room, I raced to the computer, eager to read his full history.

• He is 19 years old
• A star athlete in high school, particularly basketball
• Youngest of 5 kids
• 6' 5"

Sound familiar?

He was diagnosed with a form of blood cancer 2 years ago. After a year of treatment, he went into remission. Due to his recent good health, he was allowed to serve a mission and was called to Peru. But just weeks before leaving, he started coughing, and felt fatigued. It made his mom nervous, so she quickly took him to the doctor where they drew blood. The results showed that the cancer had returned.

They immediatly started chemo.

As I sat at my desk, I realized, that less than hour ago, I was complaining and second guessing. I was
frustrated and sad.  Asking why, why, why?

but now?

Everything changed.

Favorite Things

So I recently moved to Utah ( in January?! ya, I don't know what I was thinking!) And in that small amount of time, Utah has lived up to its reputation. The reputation being that any boy with a mobile phone at hand, will in fact ask out any eligible girl ( no matter the height difference) with in walking distance, just following a talk given on marriage. (yes, it happend) And with that, comes the follow up date that includes the awkward side hug, then the forced conversation, which eventually leads to .... the dreaded question. I hate this question. I have yet to go on a date where I have not been asked it. And that question is, "So what made you want to be a nurse?" And most "good" nurses would respond and say "oh, I just love helping people" or "I wanted to do something that I knew would make a difference". But I on the other hand, did not. My real thoughts on wanting to be a nurse were, "they get paid pretty good right?" and "only work three days a week?! Sign me up!" Sadly this is the truth, but how do I tell a guy this who is measuring me up to see if I qualify to be his wife and mother of his children? ( ok, so that's a little dramatic, but whatever).  So instead I respond and say "to tell you the truth, I have no idea, but it has been the best decision I ever made!"

After having this conversation numerous times lately, I've been thinking, why do I really love what I do? After a lot of thought I came up with 2 reasons. That may not sound like much, but they both encompass a lot.

Favorite Thing #1: At the end of the day, when I go say goodbye to my pateint and their family, and the parent asks me, "are you back tomorrow?" This may seem like nothing, but to me this tells me that the parents (who can sometimes be difficult to please) trust me. They trust me taking care of their precious child during the most difficult/stressful time of theirs lives. They trust me enough, that they want me back the next day, to do it all over again!

Favorite Thing #2: On the patients last day of chemo, the day they are leaving the hospital and hopefully never to return, everyone on the floor gathers around and sings them this song.

Our patients have the cutest S M I L E
Our patients have the sweetest H E A R T
We love to see you everyday
But now its time we get to say
Pack up your bags, get out the door
You dont get chemo anymore!

While we sing the song, the patient is generally dancing and smiling from ear to ear, while the mom is both laughing and crying all at the same time. After the song, the child gets to ring this large bell for the whole floor to hear. One time, a little boy who had a form of bone cancer and had his leg removed, he took off his prosthetic and hit the bell with it. Everyone cheered!
This is my favorite thing because we get to see that the Hell we put them through, it actually does work! And then .... they get to finally go HOME!