Immunocompromised

I had a very sobering experience yesterday. For my nursing program we were able to have a clinical at Primary Children's Hospital. I was assigned to be on the Immunocompromised Unit, which in normal english means, pediatric oncology. Cancer. Little kids. Scary!!

I was excited to be able to have this opportunity because there is a really good chance that I will never have this type of opportunity again. But, I was also scared, nervous, and anxious about whether or not I would be able to handle it emotionally. I tried to mentally prepare myself before I got there. I kept telling myself that I just needed to focus on the patients, as if they were just normal patients........not that they had cancer and how it was tearing their lives, and families apart.

The first couple of hours went really well, and I was thinking to myself, "Wow, I am doing really good at keeping my emotions in check". This is probably the point that I should have told myself that the reason that I was doing so well was because it was 6:00am and all of the patients were still asleep. Everything seemed pretty normal. They were like any other patient that I have had to work with. Of course there were the slight differences that reminded you that they were cancer patients, such as their cute little balding heads. But nonetheless, it was like most other clinicals that I had been to before.

I helped do a blood transfusion, platelet transfusion, different kinds of medications, but when it really started to hit me was when we started giving them their chemotherapy. My patients were 6, 4, and 3 years old. We went into the 6 year olds room to start his chemotherapy for the morning and the nurse I was following handed me a special gown, gloves, and goggles to put on. I was shocked. We looked like the hazmat people going to clean up some toxic spill. But, then I realized, we were dealing with something that really is that toxic. What was even worse was seeing the look on the face of the mother of this child. Complete horror. The fact that we had to put so much protection on to protect ourselves from this drug, when in turn we are putting it directly into her child's body. Like any parent she asked us why. And I listened to my nurse explain to the mother that we needed to wear this protective gear to protect ourselves and her child just in case there was a leak in the IV bag that contained the chemo so that if it splashed on us, we would be protected, and also it would protect her child because the nurse puts themselves between the patient and the chemo bag while hooking it up to protect the patient just in case. I can't imagine how that mother felt. Having her child have to be subjected to toxins to try and win the harsh battle against cancer. That was when my emotional confidence started to waiver.....

Then we went into the 4 year olds room. He was by himself. No mom, no dad......no family at all by his side. This little boy was going through chemotherapy by himself. I was told that his mother would come for 1 hour a day to be with her son, and that was all. This poor little guy literally had a zero on his immune test, so he was not allowed to come out of his room because of the chance of him getting sick. So, he laid, curled up on his bed. My heart broke. I found myself judging his mother. I was thinking to myself that if it were my child, there would be no way I would leave them alone for a second. And, who could leave their 4 year old to face something like this by themselves?? I really had to put myself in check. One of the most important things we learn in nursing school is not to judge people that don't do things the way that we think they should. I wasn't being fair. I didn't know the circumstances of the family, and maybe there really was a legitimate reason that it had to be this way. Maybe she had to work, maybe there was no other family around to help, maybe she didn't have neighbors that she could ask to help. I was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Then, my nurse told me. There was no reason. She just didn't come. She was at home the other hours of the day, and she would only dedicate an hour to her child. My nurse also told me that it wasn't something that was uncommon. Again, broke my heart, and my emotions were on the brink of explosion.

Then we move on to my third patient. A little 3 year old. This little one had a brain tumor that you could see bulging off the back of the head. You could see a shunt just underneath the skin on the child's scalp that was supposed to be helping to drain the fluid away from the brain, and you could see the scars that covered the child's head from the many surgeries that they had been subjected to. I had to help hold this little 3 year old down while the nurse removed a needle that was hooked into a device that was inside the chest that the child received the chemo through. As I am holding this little 3 year old down, the child is crying and is looking at me and saying, "No, no, no, pwease don't huut (hurt) me!" "Pwease weeve me awone!" "Mommy! Make them stop!" I about lost it. It took everything I had to keep my composure while doing this. As a nurse you are wanting to help people, do everything in your power to help their bodies heal. I felt like I was betraying this little one. We were terrifying them. And what was sitting in the back of my mind, that made it even harder, that made me think we were doing all of this in vain, was the fact that, this child was going to die. They don't think that the child will last past October. Despite this diagnosis, the parents are continuing the chemo, they are continuing to fight even though there is less than 1% chance it will work. The brain tumor is inoperable. And, here we are, inflicting pain on this little one that should just be able to enjoy life as much as possible. I had so many thoughts and emotions going through me at one time. I was so sad that I was having to help on a procedure that hurt, and terrified this little one. I was angry that the parents were choosing to continue this awful treatment even though their child was going to die with it. I felt they were being selfish. I felt guilty for being judgmental because I put myself in their shoes and I found myself thinking that I would be the same way. I would fight every way I could to have my child stay with me. I was hurting for the mother and what she must be going through. Knowing that if she were to stop doing the chemo treatments would be like saying you were okay with your child dying. And I was angry that this little one had to go through this at all. That any of these kids have to go through this. It just seems so unfair. And then I felt it, the Holy Ghost. A sense of peace washed over me. And I knew that Heavenly Father knows of these children and what they are going through. He knows their pain. He knows what the families are feeling. I knew that even though that little boy didn't have his mom with him, he was not alone. And I knew that there was a reason for all of this to happen to these littles ones. I don't understand it, but I know that Heavenly Father is protecting them how they need it, and comforting them. I don't know that I could explain it in words more than that.

I wouldn't trade this clinical for anything. If I could go back and choose a different department, I wouldn't have. This was such a faith and testimony building experience for me. I thought that I would get some great nursing skills on this unit, but I ended up getting so much more than that. These children are angels here on Earth, and I am so blessed to have been able to be in their presence and learn from them.