Thank You

Clare Landis

It was nighttime, but there were so many fluorescent lights on in the hospital room that it felt like it was noon. Amidst all the chaos, I stared blankly ahead at a whiteboard.

“Clare,” she said for the second time. My eyes traced the letters in faded blue marker spelling out “fall risk.” I hugged my knees to my chest.

“Honey,” she pleaded, “you have to drink this.” I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“I don’t let my patient’s blood sugar get this low. Your organs are going to fail.”

I shook my head again as tears started to form.

“Come on, you can do this. You have to do this, you don’t have a choice here.” She tried handing me the juice again. I took it this time, drank it all in one big sip and started to cry.

“You did good. You’re okay.” I turned away and buried my head in the thin hospital pillow.

The next day, they put a tube in my nose that followed down to my stomach. It felt as if they had prodded a giant knife into my sinuses and throat. Because it kept sliding out of my nostril, I had to jab this dagger deeper and deeper into my body. The nurse who gave me the juice the night before saw how much it hurt me and carefully taped the tube to my face so that it wouldn’t move. “When you’ve been a nurse as long as I have, you learn how to do these things.” She winked at me. “You call me if there’s anything else you need. I’m here all night.”

I was excited to see her the following night when I was more stable— we were able to talk a little bit about life. She showed me pictures of her granddaughter, and we laughed. I gave her a long hug when I left a week later. She told me that she was so proud of me and that I had to keep fighting because I could win.

Although that nurse only knew me for one week, she had cared about me so deeply. I had been battling anorexia for almost half of my life, and she became my ally at the time when it got the closest to winning. She was the person who helped me survive.

Today, it has been over a year since I met her, yet I see her everywhere, and every time I want to say thank you. I see her in my friends staying up late studying to be pharmacists and PAs. I see her in my boyfriend working hard to fulfill his pre-med requirements. I see her whenever I walk past someone crying in the library over a failed organic chemistry exam, and I see her in my dad when he comes home from a long day of seeing patients.

I know that a career in medicine is demanding, hard, exhausting work, and I know patients are difficult because I have been an exceedingly difficult patient myself. But what I really want to say is thank you. These current and future healthcare providers serve a greater purpose than they know. They save people who need encouragement, those who need a helping hand or just a sugary cup of medicine—they save me.

-Clare Landis is a sophomore from Charlotte, NC, pursuing a major in Business and a minor in Cognitive Science.-