Carmen Matthews
June 2025
Carmen
Matthews
,
BSN, RN
Hope Plaza 7 Infusion
City of Hope National Medical Center
Duarte
,
CA
United States
She gave me a normal moment in the middle of something that has been anything but normal.
Today, I had my last chemo. It’s been six long months filled with debilitating side effects. I couldn’t work, went on food stamps, caught dangerous colds twice, and faced constant stress from bills. The next step in my treatment is a mastectomy, and my highly aggressive cancer came out of nowhere. I came to this chemo session carrying so much, and I didn’t even realize it. It all started flooding out when I walked into the room and saw that Carmen was my nurse.
I’d had her once before, and she remembered things about me that aren’t on the chart. She appeared happy to see me. I immediately felt comfortable, like I’d stumbled across an old friend. Maybe because I’ve been largely housebound this entire year, I just started talking, rambling on until I realized I was talking too much and that something deeper was going on for me
When Carmen left the room, I’d randomly burst into tears and try to hide it when she came back. She went to get another patient set up and told me she’d come back to watch a movie with me, anything I wanted, and she did. She came back, pulled the chair out of the corner, and sat down with me for an entire chemo bag, and parts of the others.
Carmen just sat with me. She listened to me talk, which I know is not in her job description. She didn’t psychoanalyze me or try to fix anything; she just sat with me, shared, and was honest and open with her own stories. She gave me a normal moment in the middle of something that has been anything but normal.
My husband has never been able to sit with me because he must stay home with our young children during my treatments. No one had ever sat with me until today. It meant so much, I’m crying all over again just writing this.
When I was done, I was the last patient on the floor. Carmen walked me over to the bell, and she had gathered all the nurses for “the song.” It was amazing. She let me ring the bell like a crazy person and then put the little medal around my neck. I haven’t felt that way since I ran a marathon and got the medal at the end, and I trained six months for that, too. This was harder. But Carmen was the one who welcomed me at this finish line.
We even took a great picture together. Getting to my last chemo was a joyful experience for me.
I’d had her once before, and she remembered things about me that aren’t on the chart. She appeared happy to see me. I immediately felt comfortable, like I’d stumbled across an old friend. Maybe because I’ve been largely housebound this entire year, I just started talking, rambling on until I realized I was talking too much and that something deeper was going on for me
When Carmen left the room, I’d randomly burst into tears and try to hide it when she came back. She went to get another patient set up and told me she’d come back to watch a movie with me, anything I wanted, and she did. She came back, pulled the chair out of the corner, and sat down with me for an entire chemo bag, and parts of the others.
Carmen just sat with me. She listened to me talk, which I know is not in her job description. She didn’t psychoanalyze me or try to fix anything; she just sat with me, shared, and was honest and open with her own stories. She gave me a normal moment in the middle of something that has been anything but normal.
My husband has never been able to sit with me because he must stay home with our young children during my treatments. No one had ever sat with me until today. It meant so much, I’m crying all over again just writing this.
When I was done, I was the last patient on the floor. Carmen walked me over to the bell, and she had gathered all the nurses for “the song.” It was amazing. She let me ring the bell like a crazy person and then put the little medal around my neck. I haven’t felt that way since I ran a marathon and got the medal at the end, and I trained six months for that, too. This was harder. But Carmen was the one who welcomed me at this finish line.
We even took a great picture together. Getting to my last chemo was a joyful experience for me.