anyways…

Cancer has the following words attached to it in my mind: threatening, menacing, baleful, forbidding, sinister, inauspicious, unpropitious, unfavorable, unpromising; portentous, foreboding, fateful, premonitory; black, dark, gloomy; minatory; direful; minacious. It also has the following dimensions: prompt, drive, move, inspire, stimulate, influence, activate, impel, push, propel, spur. Inspire? What’s so inspiring about the potential death of a seven-year-old girl in Maine? What’s so stimulating about a killer? What’s so interesting and compelling about a ravenous and murderous villain such as Wilm’s Tumor? It is taking the life of a young, innocent and pure daughter of Heavenly Father. I am driven to the field of pediatrics oncology to help in the fight of children in cancer. I would like to contribute to the body of knowledge in pediatric oncology nursing, and be inspired by those families embattled by this beast. I want to nurse those children and families in their time of greatest struggle, their lowest and worst defeats and their highest victories. I want to put my unique personality to work making my children happy, but also making those other children happy. I want to help provide hope, comfort those in need of comfort and mourn with those who mourn.

Or do I?

This weekend, I realized just how nursing is stretching my every fiber, sinew, moral anchor, bias, belief, stigma and inadequacies. Nursing touches every part of my life. It is the next most all-encompassing thing to the Gospel. Modern nursing theory and evidence based practice urges holistic and scientifically based interventions in every decision. I believe that Savannah will be OK. Dying is part of life and that this beast will either be defeated by a cure or by death - and either outcome will ultimately be what God wants. This is the third time the cancer in Savannah takes control. The doctors are not giving too many indications that it will give up. They are even talking like Savannah may survive chemo. If I understand it right, they even hint that there’s little they can do at this point. There are only 4 cases of Wlim’s coming this far and Savannah is one of them. I found myself crying when Brian told me that Savannah was very upset when she was told she may die soon. She thinks that if she survived the other two times through chemo, that this one will be no different. So in my tears, I ask myself, what and how do I practice when one of my patients come to this point? I need to be therapeutic, I know. My practice needs to be free from my personal bias of heavy spiritual truths, but be accepting of others’ beliefs. I know what will happen to an innocent child when she dies, but others are not so sure. I mustn’t push my belief on others. However, I should assess their spirituality, their belief of death and assist the patient and family to develop their beliefs, thoughts and enter functional and healthy grief. It’s hard. How am I going to sort it all out with my patients when they are challenged by this? Will I be OK? How am I going to sort it all out for myself when it comes to it? I felt so affected by this the other day…and still feel affected. Will I sit there and cry with the family? Will I think it’s OK to do that? Will I feel just as helpless and powerless as they? Will I be able to be effective for those patients? Will I be able to let go just like I used to think I can, but now I think about Savannah and how sad she’s been these last few days…what will happen when I am actually in this situation and I am treating a patient? When is the best time to tell a kid they will die? Do you tell them? How do you? When do you just let go? Nursing is helping me sort this out for me so I can sort it out for others too. I am different than I was before. I see things more deeply. I experience them far beyond what I thought it would. Nursing challenges me. It makes me into a new person. Now I do not wish to worship nursing, for I feel changed and stretched, challenged, chastened and humbled by another, more all-encompassing thing - the Gospel of Jesus Christ. However, as a refining tool in my life, nursing makes me different. I am now different than what I was before.

I want to fight cancer. I feel compelled and drawn into the battle. Savannah’s special corner in life has helped make this clear to me. I want to help those children. I want to let them paint my nails when they’re sad. I want to nurse their health. I want to help find a cure. I want to. I just hope that I can. I just hope.

To follow Savannah’s story, visit www.carepages.com and register. Then, she’s listed under PricessSavannah. If you have questions about signing up, please let me know.

Follow Kim’s posting about Savannah on her website here.