Thankful for Cancer Nurse Navigators

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, a nurse practitioner from my ob-gyn office was beginning a new job with our cancer center. As a nurse navigator, she guided me through the next 15 months. I remain thankful for her contribution. Although all medical personnel I encountered were wonderful, a guide for the cancer journey helped immeasurably.

I first met B. when I was pregnant with my son, alternating visits with her and with my obstetrician. She always seemed to know just what I needed. Thanks to her, for example, I got a surprise peek of my son in an ultrasound image one afternoon. She introduced me to my son’s heartbeat.

Fast forward. In her new job, B. called me up when a mammogram came back to flag a potential issue. Then, lo and behold, there she was in the waiting room when I arrived alone a few days later at an imaging center for two more mammograms, an ultrasound, and a needle biopsy. Knowing I was separated from my husband, she asked if I had told my brothers yet. I had not. She helped me to realize I needed to reach out. What is more, she held my head gently as I sat steady for the biopsy.

I had that biopsy on a Monday and commented in my journal: “So it looks like cancer but could be something that just looks like cancer.” By Thursday, I had an initial diagnosis of carcinoma in situ and wrote “good news.” When I met with the surgeon, B. was there, taking notes, helping me to make sense of things. While it would be weeks before I learned the full extent of what was unveiled during and after the mastectomy, that I had multiple tumors and infiltrating ductal carcinoma, I felt completely cared for from the start.

Even with the turn of events that led to a complicated treatment plan that gave me more than a year to contend with to get things in order in my body, my medical team — including the nurse — held me accountable.

navigator — made it all go well, as best it could, as I navigated post-surgical issues and began chemotherapy, Herceptin, and eventually radiation. One day, B. also gave non-cancer advice, with suggestions for back-up heat, when an ice storm led me to lose power (and heat) for a few days after an early chemo treatment.

I could go on about reasons to be thankful to B., but I think anybody reading this can see how heartening it was to feel less alone in my cancer journey. I did have friends and family members (including my brothers), and my colleagues at work were completely supportive and kind. I made new friends who helped me through too. Still, having a compassionate nurse navigator made such a difference, especially when I was completely done with treatment, save the removal of my port.

Remaining so strong for so long, eventually, I was completely worn down by everything (cancer, divorce, my mother’s death, and so on), which sent me into a downward spiral the last week of last treatments. I wrote in my journal, “I’m exhausted beyond what I can handle.” I was crying so much that I knew I needed to talk to somebody. While I had called a counseling office I had visited regarding the divorce, there were no appointments available. Fate intervened when I went to the cancer center that week for a follow-up appointment and ran into B. in the hall.

Of course, I burst into tears and told her I could not stop crying. When she said she would find a counselor, she gave me something else to cling to: the hope of healing emotionally from an arduous year. Within a few days of running into B., and a few more tears and hard days in between, I began seeing a counselor to regain my equilibrium. Healing does take a village.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.