The exchange

She was sitting in the very far, back corner. She was covered with a large, red comforter and nurse Lynn, one of the wonderful angels in the oncology office, was on a stool holding her hand and speaking in quite, hushed tones. I kept glancing over there, wondering if perhaps the patient needed another fellow soldier in the battle to speak to her, encourage her. She was obviously upset, there was a hushed quite in the room. The nurse stood up and hugged her and went back to work.

Later, when Lynn was not too busy, I asked her if she thought the patient needed a "cheerleader" (me) to just go sit and talk with her. It was then that I found out that the sweet, thin, tired and sad patient was on her way to a Hospice facility. Ouch. It was like a knife going through my heart. This woman appeared to be my age or younger. I did not know her history or her name, but I knew that my doctor's office, with all their strength, resources, medicines, care and efforts had not been able to stop the enemy. While my battles goes on, hers was ending. It was hard to sit there and think about that. So many "why" questions you could ask.

Instead, Lynn and I talked about how she as a nurse has to deal with seeing someone she has treated, cared for, and loved with so much dedication, come to the realization that this is the beginning of the end of her road. Her journey here on earth is nearing the end of the trail or the top of the mountain. Another soldier we are losing in this war. "How do you continue to do your job?", I asked. "I don't see how all of you (the nurses) can do this work and have to let someone go like that".

So Lynn told me how she does it. She explained that she always tells those patients like the woman in the corner all draped in red that we all are going to die in one way or another. We can't avoid it and we don't get to dictate how it happens. Lynn believes she was put here on this earth not only to be a nurse but to also help with the walk that is the final walk in this life. She is so right....she has been given such a heart. She is here to help with the journey. She is the hand you would want holding yours after you've been told the battle is over. She is the angel you would want escorting you to the gates of heaven. She knows her purpose and her talent. She would not ever want to be doing anything else, she says. I believe her. I also believe she speaks for Jan and Janet, Jennifer and Maha. That in addition to being in the business of medicine, the difficult and intense field of oncology to treat and cure. they are in the field of walking with us in our journeys. Each one, in their own way, helping us through it...getting us to the other side of cancer, whether it is out the door and just come back twice a year for check-ups, or out the door to life's end.

I realized that as somber as the scene was in the office that day, it also was a privilige to witness such a tender, intimate exchange between an angel and a soldier. It is a scene I will never forget. I also need to remind everyone who reads this, that one day "He will wipe every tear from (our) eyes. There will be no more death of mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Rev. 21:4

Great words of hope for anyone's journey.