Megan

After college, I worked for a couple of years as the manager of a barbecue restaurant, then for an aquatics company. I finally realized that I wasn’t doing what God had created me to do. I thought back to the last time when I felt like I was really living into that, and it was during my senior year of college when I volunteered with the American Cancer Society. Oncology has always been a passion of mine, but I never, ever, ever thought I wanted to do anything in the medical field. I actually have a bit of a queasy stomach. Seriously. When I told my mom that I wanted to go to nursing school, she laughed. She said, “You still freak out when you get shots.”

I have cried numerous times in a patient’s room when a family heard upsetting news. Or, when they had good news. I always have to temper it with whether or not it would be therapeutic for them to see me show that kind of emotion, because every family is different. If I’ve connected with them on that kind of level, to me, it’s another way I can show them that ​“I love you and I love your child.” Sometimes, too many times, I’m feeling,​“I’m broken with you.” As nurses, we need to weigh how much we let ourselves feel, how much emotion we show, and how much we distance ourselves.

I usually work with the same kids throughout their treatment because it helps to ground them and ease their anxieties. I get so much joy out of being with them. It’s a precious thing to watch a nurse with her primary patient —  the connection that we have, the inside jokes that we share. It’s a protective, motherly kind of love. I don’t have children of my own yet, but I love these kids like they’re mine. I know we have an unique and special bond.

I’ve experienced a tremendous amount of loss over the last few months. So many beautiful children who are now gone too soon. As soon as a child is no longer in treatment, another new family walks in the hospital. Sometimes at the nurses station, we look at one other. We’re all thinking the same thing: ​“Wow, we’ve got a lot of new kids.”  I have to let the weight of that sink in. There are always new faces, always.

(Note: These photos were part of a series that ran in September 2016 for Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Photographer Kristin Seward spent many hours with the families and staff whom Connor’s Heroes has come to know as we work together to help these brave children.)