True Life of a Pediatric Oncology Nurse

Last year for my English class, we were to write a profile essay about someone who makes a difference in the world in any way possible.  Of course, the beaming faces of my oncology nurses popped right into my head.  The nurses made a HUGE difference in my life, and many other little lives of the children occupying the third floor of CHOC.  It's amazing how they manage to make a sucky situation less...sucky(pardon my narrowed vocabulary).  Inspired and excited, I quickly contacted one of my favorite nurses to do an interview for my paper.  I know what cancer is like through the eyes of a patient, but my vision comes to a halt knowing what it's like for a pediatric oncology nurse whose job is to be around many cancer patients all day. Being an oncology nurse isn't only difficult due to the hours and tedious work, but as I learned, it can also be extremely heavy on the heart and soul.  So here's cancer from a nurse's point of view...

She Calms the Storm

In the darkest of times, we tend to grasp onto anything that’s good.  That small ray of sunlight peeking through the gray, ominous clouds seems to make any bad situation worthwhile.  On the third floor of Children’s Hospital of Orange County, the nurses, including Erika Crawford, are that ray of sunlight for the pediatric oncology unit.  From Erika’s petite body frame to recently shaved dark hair, her big, beaming smile was the first thing I would see when I stepped out of the elevator; unfortunately, I would be heading straight to my hospital room where I would stay for days at a time receiving chemotherapy.  Greeted with a genuine and excited hug every hospital stay, Erika’s welcoming tactics assured me that everything was going to be okay.  Through the miracles and losses, Erika goes far beyond her calling as a nurse in the lives of the patients and families by building lasting relationships and providing unwavering support. 

Erika is a Pediatric Hematology/Oncology and Transplant nurse.  For more than five years, her responsibility has been to “administer chemotherapeutic and bio therapeutic agents” and to “provide the medications that will bring [patients] comfort through the rough treatment process.”    However, Erika does more than her job description requires, not only for the patients’ benefit, but also for herself.  She first wanted to be pediatric oncology nurse when she “had a clinical rotation at Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles’ pediatric outpatient hem/onc clinic.”  She was “amazed at how brave these kids are and how little affected they were by their diagnosis.”  Erika was especially tickled by the sight of “little bald heads riding tricycles down the hallway and making crafts in the playroom.”  From that point on, she truly believed she could “learn from them how to live life with such great courage as they do.”  By being a patient of her’s, I’ve witnessed firsthand her beautiful character that must go hand-in-hand with such an eye-opening job.  

Other than her smile and laughter, I noticed Erika’s short hair when I first met her.  It was starting to grow out from when she shaved her head in 2010 for the St. Baldrick’s Foundation.  According to www.stbaldricks.org, The St. Baldrick’s Foundation is a volunteer-driven charity committed to funding the most promising research to find cures for childhood cancers and give survivors long and healthy lives.  Erika said, “I decided that I would do St. Baldrick’s because not only would I be raising money for a good foundation and cause, but I would be doing something that was drastic for me, to come alongside my bald little friends to show them I truly care and know what a hard place they’ve been put in,” after she was inspired to do so in honor of a patient she grew close to who relapsed and she “felt that [she] needed to do something.”  Erika tells me, “You guys didn’t have a choice to be bald, and I wanted to honor your journey by making that choice for myself.”  It’s true.  We didn’t have a choice to be bald.  To voluntarily become bald by shaving off all of your hair, like Erika, is very encouraging to see.  The simple act of shaving her head shows her effort in trying to understand and relate to what we, as cancer patients, have to go through.

When I asked what her favorite part about her job was, she beamed, “My favorite part of my job is making lasting relationships with my patient and their families.  Like you guys!  I love that in my job I get to spend large amounts of time with the same families, get to know them and they get to know me.”  Erika easily became one of my favorite nurses from the beginning as she was very easy to talk to, funny, and really understood what I was going through.  She was also one of my very first nurses that first week in the hospital right after being diagnosed.  To my surprise, I found out that she likes being someone’s first nurse after being diagnosed: “I’ve recently discovered that I like being the first nurse any patient has on our floor.”  She goes on to explain, “The tests, the pokes, the doctors, the million other things that are about to happen are all daunting and scary.  I like being that constant among all that change that can keep that family and patient grounded and be that person at the bedside that holds their hand and tells them, ‘I know this is all new and scary, but I will tell you everything that is going to happen and I will be here for you.  We will get through this together.’”  My eyes teared up after letting her words ring in my head.   I instantly clicked with what she told me.  That was me.  The memories rushed back to the day I first met Erika.  I was scared.  I was lost.  I had to go through all the tests and the pokes and the surgeries.  Everything was so new and frightening to me; however, her glowing presence reassured me.  

Her easy-going spirit effortlessly lifted mine even as she administered my revolting chemotherapy; however, that happens to be one of Erika’s least favorite parts of her job:  

"Giving chemotherapy is very hard for me to do; it is a double-edged sword.  I hang the bag of chemo that will hopefully cure, but also cause suffering to my patients.  I know that hanging this bag of chemo will cause throwing-up, mouth sores, pain, and many more things.  While I’m at work, I’m not thinking about that.  I’m just getting my job done there.  It’s when I’m driving home that I start to wonder what’s going to happen to my patients because of what I’ve done that day."

        Unfortunately, all the side effects from the chemotherapy Erika would administer did happen to me.  I strongly dreaded the moment when the nurse would walk into my hospital room wearing protective gloves and smock holding the bag of chemotherapy that would soon be hooked up to my I.V. pole.  Knowing that the chemotherapy was flowing through my body was nauseating in itself.  I, too, would face the side effects of severe leg pains, chronic nausea, ulcerated mouth sores, and no appetite.  I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that something which made me feel so sick and horrible cured me of a fatal disease.  I understand why this part of Erika’s job made her feel so guilty; however, I never accused her of inflicting such a misery on my body.  My cancer and suffering were not anyone’s fault.  I’ve learned to just accept things that happen in life and to be grateful for all the little things.  In a way, Erika and all of the nurses who administered my chemotherapy saved my life.  

However, being a nurse on the oncology floor can be immensely heavy on the heart.  With tears in her eyes, Erika tells me, “It is very hard for me to literally LOSE patients.  That is probably the worst part of my job.”  She goes on to explain, “I get to be a part of people’s lives and sometimes I get to be a part of the end of their life.”  However, Erika still manages to find the ray of sunlight in these dark situations: “In a weird way, it’s still an honor to be their nurse in the very end, because my job in that time is to provide only comfort, only dignity, only peace.  It’s definitely very hard on me and very hard on my soul.”  I can’t even imagine what these brave nurses must go through countless times.  I personally knew about three patients who passed while I was going through my treatment.  That affected me in more ways than one.  That could have been me.  I felt deeply for their families, but also happy that those strong kids were no longer in pain.  That’s part of Erika’s job--dealing with losses.  But “these journeys of facing life and death have rubbed off on [her], and [she is] very aware that life can indeed be short.”

Aside from the hard times, Erika still manages to learn and grow from her deep experiences as an oncology nurse.  Through all of the suffering and pain, Erika has “learned that human relationships can survive anything, and that through times of suffering comes great times of joy and laughter as well.”  For Erika, laughing seemed to be her forte.  Her joy and laughter is contagious as I discovered.  Erika even laughs when she admits to me, “I don’t like dealing with poop.  Hahaha!”  Her bubbly personality finds its niche in the oncology unit since “it’s okay to laugh, even when you’re in the darkest time of your life.”  For me, my main lesson learned going through this journey with Erika was to keep my courage through every obstacle.  If she had the courage to put on a strong face to make me feel better, then I should be able to have that courage to keep fighting.

Unfortunately, most people are usually too scared to visit the oncology unit because it’s depressing.  Erika encourages “that this place is sad at times, but for the most part it’s where I’ve learned to be courageous and to smile through the scary times...kids with cancer are some of the bravest, most special people I know.”  Erika’s job shows to be more than just a job.  The oncology unit is full of sadness and devastation, but also laughter, joy, and courage.  Erika learns from the brave patients every day while striving to return the favor and provide comfort and guidance: “I feel honored to be a part of that time in your lives and try my hardest to bring some joy and sunshine to a very dark time.”

Here's some pictures of me with a few of my favorite nurses taken on my last chemo.  I forgot how bald I was!! :) Although these were tough times, the pictures below still bring a smile to my face.

###Alexis