I’m an oncology nurse. I knew when I signed up for the job that it was a tough one and that tough conversations was part of it. But some weeks the tough conversations are never ending. And sometimes the tough conversations rip my heart to shreds. And sometimes I want to hop in my car and drive for miles. Or put on my running shoes and run until it makes sense. But here is the thing; it won’t make sense. Cancer doesn’t make sense.
Some weeks cancer pisses me off more than other weeks and this week was one of those. On Friday I opened my e-mail and had two e-mails of bad news from patient’s loved ones. I’ve said it often, but I think we need a punching bag in our office. A place for both employees and patients to take out some anger. And let me tell you, this Friday morning I needed it.
Why? I sat there and asked… why? But here is the thing, I’m the nurse. I’m the supporter. And I had to get myself together and call these loved ones. I knew the status of one of these patients from the e-mail, but called to get the plan of care. The news kept being worse, but this patient’s loved one was so gracious. They were in shock and upset, but they graciously took the news and were taking the bull by the horns and ready to fight. And at the end of the conversation you want to know what this patient’s loved one said to me? Thank you. In the middle of their battle when all I can be is the communicator and the emotional support; when I have nothing else left that I can do at that moment and they are facing a huge new unexpected battle she stops and thanks ME.
After this phone call I went back to speak with the PA. I told her I wasn’t ready to make the next phone call. After the news of the first two patients I was spent. I went to make the phone call anyways, because it needed to be done. My heart broke. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last time that a patient’s loved one asks me to tell them what is really going on. What they really need to prepare for. But every time I have these conversations it hurts the same.
I had this conversation twice that day with two different loved ones. And here is the thing that struck me yet again… both of them stopped and thanked me. After the phone calls were concluded and the rest of my day was wrapped up I got in my car and I sat stunned. It was a tough week and a really tough day, but yet again I was reminded why I do my job. Because even when I have very little I can do for patients and their families and even when I have to be the truth bearer, they teach me so many things.
The tough conversations will continue to come throughout my career. The days of needing a punching bag will continue. The days of wanting to run as fast and hard as I can until something makes sense will still occur. But this is what I was created to do at this time in my life. And those “thank yous” make it worth it.
So to my patients and their loved ones. Thank you. Thank you for all you teach me through the tough conversations. Thank you for your thank yous.
As we step into pediatric cancer awareness month let us all learn more about the tough conversations so many families are going through. And let us learn how we can help them as they walk through these tough battles.