After two years on the 3rd floor at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center, I decided to make a job change to Huntsman Cancer Institute at the University of Utah.
My first interview at Huntsman was back in June, I remember feeling immediately impressed with the people, the patients and the atmosphere. I experienced an entirely different feeling about patient care during my first tour of the building and clinics. Something inside me said, "hey this place is different." The hustle and bustle of everyday nursing life felt quieter, more contained, more manageable. The staff I was introduced to made me feel like I was a person rather than candidate #38. It was refreshing. Due to the craziness of summer I had my 3rd and final interview in the middle of July. I was informed later that week that I was not chosen for the position. About a week later Joan, the manager called me and said she would like me to come in and interview for a job that was recently posted. After being turned down for the first job, I was apprehensive about taking more time off work, going through another interview process and "putting myself out there again." I agreed to come in for an interview and told myself "just go see what happens." I met with Joan again and she told me about the position. The job I was interviewing for was in the neuro-oncology department "aka brain tumors." I met with the team; the nurse and the doctor I would be working for. After speaking with them and the intense learning curveI felt scared about the change and all the new education required to become a cancer nurse. I withdrew my application. I didn't know if I was ready to be an outpatient nurse... Monday-Friday 7:30-4:00, a desk, clinical research, care coordination, becoming an expert on "the brain." It all was terrifying. Right after withdrawing my application, the manager called me and said she received my withdrawal email and wanted to talk. We talked about my fear of failing. After speaking with her, I withdrew my withdrawal and she offered me the job. I accepted and felt a strange sense of relief and excitement. I notified my boss at Utah Valley of my new position and was asked to stay on as needed, or "PRN." I agreed to work every third weekend for the time being.
I was set to start August 8, 2011. I attended new employee orientation, nursing orientation, skills pass off and computer training that week. I was completely overwhelmed and hadn't even started my job yet!! The next week I came in and was introduced to all the clinic staff and the neuro oncology staff. I set-up my email, phone and computer. I organized my desk, ordered business cards and met some patients. We talked about chemotherapy, radiation and surgery. I attended "tumor board" where the entire neuro department gets together and discusses complicated cases. I sat there looking at MRI images, thinking how in the world is this ever going to make sense!!!! Words like oligiodendroglioma, glioblastoma, astrocytoma, stereotactic radiation, 1P/19Q deleted, RTOG85 were thrown around like common terms. I didn't understand one thing that was discussed in the meeting. I felt defeated, confused and worried that I made a huge mistake.
I told my self I would give the job 2 months before I made a decision about how much I liked it. The learning curve in nursing can be so large I thought this was an adequate time frame. Since then I have met many more patients and been thrown into the craziness of the neuro clinic. Patients have gotten to know me by name and have called with concerns and questions regarding their diagnosis. The hardest thing about this job is the emotional toll it takes to be a cancer nurse. Every patient I see is forced to face their mortality. It is
scary and confusing to think about death. Unfortunately, brain tumors are incurable. We can treat them and prolong life but eventually our patients will die from the tumor. It can become emotionally unsettling
knowing that in 2 years or so, the patients I met today will be gone.
When the Huntsmans opened the Huntsman Cancer Institute they did so ensuring cancer patients could go somewhere to receive hope. All along the walls, in the elevators and in the mission statement it says "a reason to hope." I become quite emotional when I think about the 1000's of people who walk in this building hoping for something or someone to change their outcome. Hoping for a treatment or a cure, a new way of life or a change in an inevitable fate that many of us will face. I feel I am taking part in a movement that is dedicated to change the lives of those around us. If I can help one person feel less anxiety, come to terms with their mortality and/or die gracefully I know my life will be successful.
I learn so much from my patients and their strength and courage. Their willingness to sign up for clinical
trials and participate in research that they know will only affect the people that come after them. They want a cure but not for themselves but for their grandkids. It amazes me to watch the strength of the patient and their loved ones who come to endless doctor appointments, undergo brain surgery, chemotherapy and radiation all with a smile on their face and tremendous gratitude to the staff. I have yet to met a patient that has not thanked me for my service to them and this organization. I am so grateful to work in place that reminds me how special life is and at any moment our lives can change. I am grateful to be able to help those who are in search for hope and working for a company that provides patients and their families a place filled with hope...
