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Happy thing number one: For my friends who ran in the Baltimore marathon today, congratulations. And I am glad that the sloppy fortune that I thought befell you did not happen. You know of what I speak.


Happy #2: I got to leave work at quarter to 5 today! Booie picked me up and we ran errands, and bought some stuff from the Linens N' Things store closing sale, and got ice cream, all by the time I would just be leaving work.


Happy #3: You guys, this is why I am a nurse. Adina and I were eating at Atwaters this afternoon, and this balding but cute-ish young-ish looking guy came up to our table, and said, "excuse me". He looked familiar to me... but I was also wary of him too, cuz weirdos always want something from me. He said, "I'm Brian xxx, I was a patient of yours at Johns Hopkins a few years ago." I looked at him in complete shock; here was one of those patients that really stuck with me in my heart when I cared for him three years ago. I took care of him quite frequently, and I remember even having dreams about being his nurse at home. He had Burkitts Lymphoma, an extremely rapid-growing cancer that can doube in size in a matter of days. Some Burkitts patients can even see the tumors growing before them. It takes a LOT of high-dose chemo to attain shrinkage, which initially can be pretty easy but in the long run it often relapses and the effects of the chemo itself can be lethal.

It is the curse of an inpatient nurse to not know what happens to your patients when they leave. We honestly thought Brian was going to die on our unit. But he left, and except for some occasional readmissions early on, we did not know what happened to him. But here he was, looking like a normal guy, good coloring, filled out, smiling, eating with his wife and 2 small children. He said, "You saved my life." He called to his kids and pointed to me and said, "This is one the the people that saved daddy's life when daddy was very sick." My heart fell to the floor. He told me that he was completely cured, no evidence of disease after 3 years.

Cure is a word we almost never hear on my floor. Disease control, hopefully. Prolongation of life, if we are lucky. But rarely is the word cure used, because it is rarely found. When he went back to his table, I looked at Adina and started to get teary. I made a real difference in Brian's life. I connected with him at the time, and he remembers me years later as someone who saved his life. He paid for our dinner, and said, "This and a million dollars and maybe we'll be even." I gave him a big hug.

I truly believe that I was meant to get out of work early and go to Atwaters and see him. Sometimes it is easy to forget that people do get through this crap. I felt to proud to do what I do and to be who I am.

Which brings me to my last point:

Please register to become a marrow donor with the National Marrow Donor Program. They will send you a cheek swab kit that you send back. You could save a life, too. Click the link below to get more information.