Forgetting

Most of the time, forgetting things is problematic.
Forgetting keys? You're stuck where you are.
Forgetting assignments? You're not passing that class.
Forgetting meds? You're gonna get written up.
Forgetting anniversaries? You're gonna be buying flowers for a while.
This week, though, I found out that somethings are nice to forget.

First of all, during the summer, one of my patients at work pulled away from me and fell. The doctor gave her a clean bill of health. No fractures or anything. Though, she was older so she had bruising and pain. I tried to slow her fall and guide her down. I sat her on the trash can because then I could guide her to the ground. As a pessimist, I think about all the bad things that could have happened that maybe I just don't remember.
Though this was over a month ago, I still get nervous just thinking about her. Did she hit her head on the railing on the wall, but I can't remember? Did I leave something out of the report? Is she going to sue? Could I lose my job or my savings? Does her doctor-son want to pinpoint new symptoms that we didn't see? The list goes on.
Everyone at the hospital tells me to stop being so hard on myself. This lady was no picnic. She threatened many of the RNs and aides that she would make up a story about them and have them fired. She was impulsive and weak--a bad mix.
The House Supervisor (Charge RN over the whole hospital) told me not to lose any sleep over the fall--this lady was not known for making things easy.
The charge RN assured me that the patient would be monitored and that I prevented more damage.
My boss told me not to worry about it because falls happen and we learn from them.
My husband wants me to remember all the good things I've done rather than the one mistake I've made in the past year at my job.
So, I've been trying to forget. I learned a lot from the situation, but I need to get passed it. I want to get passed it. I don't want to be afraid all the time about something I can't change. The good news is, I went a whole couple days without thinking about the patient. It felt good.
(Please join me in praying that no residual problems are left over for the patient. And pray that I can get passed this as a learning situation).

The second thing that was forgotten was not forgotten by me, but by my teacher. During devotional time in class, she asked for prayer requests. One had to do with a man from church with Stage 3-4 pancreatic CA. As the teacher began to express her sympathy for the man's family "because pancreatic cancer has the worst prognosis rates and that only miracles can keep people alive, etc" I instinctively looked up to see the pitiful face she usually gives me when talking about cancer. To my surprise, for the first time in this program, my teacher did not mention my husband. She forgot my husband had cancer. I love it when people forget that Dan has cancer.
Someday, I'd like to forget that Dan had cancer. Someday.

Another thing I'm glad gets forgotten are my sins. I don't forget them, but God does. When I repent and ask for forgiveness, He removes them from me. Since He is omniscient, it's hard for me to imagine that God can completely forget my sins. Yet, I know that because of Christ, God sees the cross instead of my sins when He thinks about me. Hallelujah.

Here's to forgetting things. Sometimes, it's good for your health.

Stand Up

I remember the first time I saw Patrick Swayze dance. I was perhaps a bit too young to be watching Dirty Dancing, but I didn't understand the plot yet...just the music and the dancing. Swayze was the debonair camp dance instructor who danced his way into to the heart of a rich girl and proved that money isn't everything. How often have I watched that movie over the years? I cannot count. My mom, my girl friends, my grandma...we all fell in love with the incredibly suave and graceful Patrick Swayze. Now, I can say I remember the day he danced out of this world.
As most know by now, Swayze was diagnosed with a particularly vicious form of pancreatic cancer in early 2008. Due to the spotlight of his fame, the nation watched as his weight waxed and waned, as he tried new treatments, as he fought for hope. His battle was actually far longer than most have the chance to fight against pancreatic cancer. Yet, my heart is heavy to see a figure of hope and perseverance lost. My prayers go to his wife and family.

This post is not actually about Patrick Swayze alone. This is about the unacceptable reality that cancer plays in this world. Swayze was joined by 1499 other Americans who lost their lives to this common enemy. As thousands of fans mourn the loss of their favorite dancer, millions are mourning the loss of their husbands, their wives, their mothers, their fathers, their sisters, their brothers and their friends. My heart is even heavier for them.

I do not have cancer, but cancer is a part of my life.

Half of my grandmother's siblings have succumbed to cancer in the past 10 years. My grandma is a survivor, and one of her brothers is, too. Cancer unfortunately runs in the family.


Over two years ago, Dan was diagnosed with an equally unfriendly form of pancreatic cancer--stage 4, inoperable. The summer of his diagnosis is the closest to hell I can imagine for now (see my mother-in-law's blog from 2 years ago). Though his treatment plan started out rocky to say the least, God blessed us immeasurably with his doctor at Stanford Medical Center (he even received chemo a few rooms away from Swayze!). Now, Dan has beaten many of the odds the doctors placed against him. He still has spots here and there; spots which could be cancer or could be scar tissue. Every CT scan report is a hold-your-breath-pray-for-a-miracle moment. Dan is confident, though I still fear for the day those spots decide to grow. For now, though, we live a happy and normal life with hardly any reminder of the cancer except for his cane.

In the next year, I hope to become an oncology nurse. Nothing has been clearer than the fact that I am called to work with those who have heard those dreaded words. Whether working with those sweet bald children with crying parents or grandparents who have no reason to believe they can pull through. God has been gracious in replenishing our hope for the future. I need to use that hope to help others find hope, also. I hate cancer. I love people with cancer.

Though I have work tonight and homework to do, I have found myself watching the Stand Up to Cancer broadcast from last September. Never before had that many people joined together to attack cancer. Never before had so many celebrities risen up to support cancer research. If you have never watched the broadcast, I urge you to do so. It is full of music, celebrities, and facts. The facts will scare you. I hope they do, at least. Facts save lives.

I am crying now. Crying out of sympathy for those who are losing the battle. Crying out of fear for my husband. Crying out of frustration for the lack of a cure. Crying out of hope.

You don't have to cry with me, but please stand with me.
Learn what you can. Take preventative measures. Walk a Relay for Life lap in honor of someone you know. Remember those who have lost the fight. Pray for those who are still fighting.

Stand up to cancer.