Job

LOCATION: UNKNOWN - I’ve read her posts for years now, found them quite by accident. I’ve shared her words with so many people, but I realize now that I’ve only given her to patients. A few family members of patients, but very few. There are so many more who need to know what she says, and for so many reasons. All those reasons are stated far more eloquently on her blog than I could attempt on this one.

She has a job, like so many others. People walk by her each day and see her in her uniform, watch her doing that which she has chosen as this career. Do they know, do you think, what she is thinking? If it’s 4 pm and she doesn’t flash a big smile at you as she passes in the hall, do you assume that she is grumpy or sullen? How difficult for us to realize what is actually happening.

She just closed the door, you see, in the conference room with that family. She paid witness to an oncologist telling that family to prepare, and prepare as quickly as they can. Hard, mercy yes. As hard as anything, I say this as formerly one of those family members. But do you know as you pass by her and make that snap judgment that this is the third such conversation she has had this week?

Her words are severe, stark, honest and pure. They are beautiful but sad. Clean but difficult. It might be hard to read on a regular basis, but I do suggest that you at least try a post or two, just so you know. She’s an oncology nurse. One of the millions of people who go to work every day and deal with things we don’t know about. So please be patient with everyone you see who doesn’t give you a glowing smile all the time. You have no idea what door they just had to close.

“It is that hope perched so delicately in the souls of patients that guides and humbles and sometimes saves those of us entrusted to care for them.”