Transcending the Chaos of Cancer
May 21, 2018 – Deborah A. Boyle, M.S.N., RN, AOCNS, FAAN, Advanced Oncology Nursing Resources, Huntington Beach, California
Oncology: The Only Choice
May 22, 2018 – Kathy LaTour
Nursing Through the Prism of Childhood
May 27, 2018 – Kathy LaTour
Nurturing Patients and Nurses
June 02, 2018 – Amita Patel, NP-C, AOCNP, Regional Cancer Care Associates
An Oncology Pioneer
June 03, 2018 – Fred Hardwicke, M.D., Childress Regional Medical Center Cancer Clinic, Childress, and Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center, Lubbock
Camping for Health
June 02, 2018 – Kathy LaTour
Improving Care Against All Odds
June 09, 2018 – Sr. Rosemary Donley, Ph.D., APRN, FAAN, Duquesne University
In the Hands of an Angel
June 10, 2018 – Jitsuda Sitthi-Amorn, M.D., St. Jude Children
The Day That Snow Brought Sunshine
June 17, 2018 – Patricia Jakel, M.N., RN, AOCN, Solid Tumor Program, UCLA, Santa Monica
Monday Morning Musings
June 20, 2018 – Justin Baker, M.D., St. Jude Children
Kathy Youngblood, Private Investigator
June 30, 2018 – Patricia Cathey, M.S.N., RN, NE-BC, St. Jude Children
Something Told Her to Become a Nurse
July 01, 2018 – Marilyn K. Stade
This Oncology Nurse Gives Back What She Receives
July 07, 2018 – Debbie Talley
The Oncology Nurse Is an Inspiration and an Example
July 08, 2018 – Marilyn K. Stade
Extraordinary Empathy in the World of Oncology
July 16, 2018 – Andrea Valera, RN, VA Palo Alto Health Care System
How One Oncology Nurse Exhibits the Best of Humanity
July 22, 2018 – Jacquelyn Pryor, Ph.D.
Pairing Diligence With Compassion in Cancer Care
July 21, 2018 – Margot Goodman
A Shining Star in Oncology Nursing
July 22, 2018 – Charles Turano
Compassion and Kind Ways in Oncology Nursing
July 26, 2018 – Edith Holder
Giving Is in Her DNA
July 29, 2018 – Deborah Dion
By My Side Through Cancer Treatments
July 27, 2018 – Malinda Blackshaw, RN
The Oncology Nurse Who Radiates Pink
July 28, 2018 – Eleanor K. Waldrup
Always a Step Ahead as an Oncology Nurse
August 04, 2018 – James G. Coe, Ph.D.
This Oncology Nurse Is Not Just Any Superhero
August 05, 2018 – Keitha V. Johnson
When Compassionate Cancer Care Meets Imagination
August 11, 2018 – Daniela Maniscalchi
An Anchor in a Time of Tumult
August 12, 2018 – Lillian Arleque, Ed.D.
From Devastation to Inspiration
August 18, 2018 – Wendy Tucker
Currently Viewing
Master of the Medical Matrix
August 19, 2018 – Linda McCarthy

Master of the Medical Matrix

An Extraordinary Healer essay honoring JENNIE TARICA, M.S.N., RN, CN-BN [SIBLEY MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, JOHNS HOPKINS MEDICINE, WASHINGTON, D.C.]
BY Linda McCarthy
PUBLISHED August 19, 2018
From left: Linda McCarthy and Jennie Tarica, M.S.N., RN, CN-BN
 - PHOTOS BY BOB RIVES
From left: Linda McCarthy and Jennie Tarica, M.S.N., RN, CN-BN - PHOTOS BY BOB RIVES
Since being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer earlier this year, I’ve learned that compassion can take many forms. Certainly, there are the heartfelt sentiments, expressed as news of the devastating diagnosis sinks in, and the empathy shared when treatments often rival the disease in discomfort, distress and discombobulation of the daily routine that many now label your “new reality.”

Encountering this new reality, patients, their families and caregivers routinely find themselves battling not only the disease but also the often convoluted and confusing administrative infrastructure designed to aid a patient’s recovery.

Although well-intended, this medical matrix isn’t always well-organized, so patients genuinely appreciate that there is knowledgeable, compassionate help available. The difficulty often lies in accessing and utilizing these various avenues of assistance quickly and effectively. More often than not, the process requires a seasoned professional to serve as cheerleader and champion.

Many of us at Sibley Memorial Hospital are blessed to have Jennie Tarica, breast cancer nurse navigator, to see us through our medical matrix. For nearly a decade, Jennie has offered patients and their families her own brand of compassion, reassurance, empathy and expertise.

One of my first encounters with Jennie, as I tried to emotionally absorb my new reality, was a cheerful phone call. Her topic: gardening.

On the mountainside where I live, the arable soil was long ago supplanted by rock — hardened, unforgiving terrain that only heavy machinery can reasonably penetrate. Additionally, gardening was never a favored pastime of mine, because it usually meant weeding row after row of country corn and pole beans. When it came to creating personal moments of Zen, gardening definitely lost out.

Still, it was extremely kind of Jennie to include it in a welcoming conversation that, mercifully, didn’t focus on a dreaded disease.

Yet, in a flash of serendipity, Jennie did introduce me to gardening’s calming aura: She’s instrumental in maintaining the garden in front of Sibley’s entrance. Jennie eagerly volunteers her time, tending to an array of plant life. Her sunflowers, especially, seem to reach through the vast windows of the hospital lobby, spreading comfort to those of us seated on the benches, waiting for the next blood draw or trip to the infusion room.

Where Jennie ultimately found a larger connection as I waged war on my new reality was horses. Turns out we’re both incurable equine groupies. We traded stories about our favorite hay burners and the fun times we enjoyed with them over the years.

Our discussions about the venerated animal led me to seek out what I’ve taken to calling my “spirit horse.” His name is Cesar, and he lives on a farm near my home. I bring him carrots (the old boy will roll you for a carrot) and just visit — no riding, because all those cancer-fighting drugs can render bones susceptible to snaps and cracks. Cesar and I just hang out, sharing carrots and a few nose rubs.

It was those horsey conversations and email exchanges with Jennie that encouraged me to look past the illness, pull on a pair of faded jeans, grab a bag of carrots and introduce myself to Cesar. From then on, I knew I had a friend in Cesar — and in Jennie.

Since that time, Jennie has befriended me in ways that require patience, enlightenment, professionalism and a sizable dose of civility bordering on saintliness. It stems from her extraordinary ability to unravel the mystery of the medical matrix.

We each have our own stories associated with prescriptions, insurance requirements and doctors’ directives, and how they can all congeal into one gigantic mess. Jennie is totally unfazed by the medical madness. Guided by her inherent cheerfulness, she remains a stalwart advocate, confronting the matrix on behalf of her patients.

I personally have benefited from her remarkable talent. At the top of my list: an endless stream of billing and insurance issues. Complicating things more is the fact that I live 75 miles from Sibley, hiding on that unforgiving mountain. Thank goodness for emails, faxes, phones and a very facilitating Jennie.

Where has Jennie’s matrix-managing ability aided me most? That would be in applying for financial aid to help cover the out-of-pocket expenses stemming from lifesaving chemo drugs. You know the ones: Their actual monthly cost rivals the gross domestic product of a small nation.

Trolling the internet, I found several organizations that help with killer copays. These groups understandably require an incredible amount of information. Some of it the patient or caregiver supplies; some of it the medical provider supplies — on application forms that aren’t always structured well, with instructions that aren’t always clear, to be relayed on fax machines that can be decidedly temperamental.

With Jennie’s invaluable assistance and dogged perseverance, I was able to secure much-needed funding to help offset the cost of chemotherapy drugs — modern marvels that have me composing and typing this essay.

I soon learned that such pro-patient activism is typical for Jennie. She routinely supports fundraisers for various breast cancer-related charities. It’s not unusual to find her at an event, decked out in pink and pressing the case for cash and a cure. Jennie also helped design post-mastectomy surgery bags filled with an assortment of recovery-related items for appreciative patients and their caregivers.

Jennie’s creative energies also reach into the managerial ranks: She developed and supervised Sibley’s first oncology inpatient unit. Additionally, Jennie became an education and training specialist, focusing on oncology and pain management.

Whatever her undertakings, Jennie’s first priority is her patients and how she can help them successfully navigate the medical matrix. Those of us fortunate enough to have Jennie as our matrix navigator will always remember how she aided our recovery, redefining our “new reality” in terms more reflective of life’s promise and potential and less about the dire and dismal.

For these reasons, Cesar the Spirit Horse and I respectfully nominate Jennie Tarica for the 2018 CURE® Extraordinary Healer® Award for Oncology Nursing.
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