Erin Bajnoci
April 2026
Erin
Bajnoci
,
RN
Telemetry
Mass General Brigham Cooley Dickinson Hospital
Northampton
,
MA
United States
The only times I felt okay were when Erin was working. She sat with me. She cared for me. She watched over me. She made me laugh. I felt less alone with her. It felt like family.
I would like to recognize Erin Bajnoci for her extraordinary clinical skill and compassionate care.
My mother was admitted to the cardiac telemetry unit at Cooley Dickinson Hospital after suffering a heart attack. Just one month earlier, we had learned that her breast cancer had returned and metastasized to her bones. She was scheduled to begin treatment with an oncologist in early January, but in December everything changed when she had the heart attack.
At 81 years old, and living with a host of medical issues including juvenile diabetes, my mother was understandably frightened. Her cardiologist explained that her heart was in a fragile state and would need to be stabilized before she could begin any cancer treatment. She understood what that meant: while her heart was being treated, her cancer treatment would have to wait, even as the cancer was rapidly spreading.
Because of the condition of her heart, her stay in the cardiac telemetry unit was longer than originally anticipated. My sister, my husband, and I visited her daily, but the nights were the hardest for her. She had difficulty sleeping. She was away from her home, her daughters, her grandson, and her cats. She worried about whether her body would have the strength to fight the cancer. She wondered if she would live long enough to see her grandson get his driver’s license and go to his first prom.
Sometimes late at night, she would text me to see if I was still awake. Visiting hours were over, and I knew how scared she was. But the nights when I didn’t hear from her were the nights Erin was on shift.
Despite caring for a very full unit, Erin would find time to sit with my mother. One night, I texted her asking how she was feeling. She replied, "Erin is here sitting across from me and has me laughing in stitches. I feel good tonight."
While offering comfort and companionship, Erin was also doing the critical work of a highly skilled nurse: carefully monitoring her vitals, documenting thoroughly, making recommendations for her morning care, and ensuring she was as comfortable as possible.
On the nights Erin was working, my sister and I slept better knowing our mother was in such capable and compassionate hands.
After she was discharged, my mother went to Baystate to undergo a heart procedure that successfully stabilized her so she could begin cancer treatment. Unfortunately, the cancer spread rapidly, and early the next year, she passed away.
In the final two weeks of her life, I was fortunate enough to sit with her every day. She reflected on her childhood in post-war Finland, the first time she met my father, and what it meant to watch her daughters grow up and build lives they loved. She spoke often about her grandson—how much she would miss him, but how certain she was that he would have a wonderful life.
In the midst of reflecting on the 81 years of her life, she also spoke about Erin. About her, she said:
"Honey, when I was on that cardiac telemetry unit, I was so scared. I didn’t know if I would get strong enough to fight the cancer. I didn’t know if I had more time left or if my time was coming to an end. When you would leave after your visits, that was when I felt the most scared and overwhelmed. The only times I felt okay were when Erin was working. She sat with me. She cared for me. She watched over me. She made me laugh. I felt less alone with her. It felt like family."
As we approach the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death, our family often reflects on the people who provided her with exceptional care during such a vulnerable time. Erin’s name comes up again and again.
We are deeply grateful not only for the clinical expertise Erin brought to my mother’s care, but also for the compassion she showed. We cannot imagine how difficult it is to work in healthcare today. We know healthcare professionals are often stretched thin and working under tremendous pressure.
My mother was admitted to the cardiac telemetry unit at Cooley Dickinson Hospital after suffering a heart attack. Just one month earlier, we had learned that her breast cancer had returned and metastasized to her bones. She was scheduled to begin treatment with an oncologist in early January, but in December everything changed when she had the heart attack.
At 81 years old, and living with a host of medical issues including juvenile diabetes, my mother was understandably frightened. Her cardiologist explained that her heart was in a fragile state and would need to be stabilized before she could begin any cancer treatment. She understood what that meant: while her heart was being treated, her cancer treatment would have to wait, even as the cancer was rapidly spreading.
Because of the condition of her heart, her stay in the cardiac telemetry unit was longer than originally anticipated. My sister, my husband, and I visited her daily, but the nights were the hardest for her. She had difficulty sleeping. She was away from her home, her daughters, her grandson, and her cats. She worried about whether her body would have the strength to fight the cancer. She wondered if she would live long enough to see her grandson get his driver’s license and go to his first prom.
Sometimes late at night, she would text me to see if I was still awake. Visiting hours were over, and I knew how scared she was. But the nights when I didn’t hear from her were the nights Erin was on shift.
Despite caring for a very full unit, Erin would find time to sit with my mother. One night, I texted her asking how she was feeling. She replied, "Erin is here sitting across from me and has me laughing in stitches. I feel good tonight."
While offering comfort and companionship, Erin was also doing the critical work of a highly skilled nurse: carefully monitoring her vitals, documenting thoroughly, making recommendations for her morning care, and ensuring she was as comfortable as possible.
On the nights Erin was working, my sister and I slept better knowing our mother was in such capable and compassionate hands.
After she was discharged, my mother went to Baystate to undergo a heart procedure that successfully stabilized her so she could begin cancer treatment. Unfortunately, the cancer spread rapidly, and early the next year, she passed away.
In the final two weeks of her life, I was fortunate enough to sit with her every day. She reflected on her childhood in post-war Finland, the first time she met my father, and what it meant to watch her daughters grow up and build lives they loved. She spoke often about her grandson—how much she would miss him, but how certain she was that he would have a wonderful life.
In the midst of reflecting on the 81 years of her life, she also spoke about Erin. About her, she said:
"Honey, when I was on that cardiac telemetry unit, I was so scared. I didn’t know if I would get strong enough to fight the cancer. I didn’t know if I had more time left or if my time was coming to an end. When you would leave after your visits, that was when I felt the most scared and overwhelmed. The only times I felt okay were when Erin was working. She sat with me. She cared for me. She watched over me. She made me laugh. I felt less alone with her. It felt like family."
As we approach the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death, our family often reflects on the people who provided her with exceptional care during such a vulnerable time. Erin’s name comes up again and again.
We are deeply grateful not only for the clinical expertise Erin brought to my mother’s care, but also for the compassion she showed. We cannot imagine how difficult it is to work in healthcare today. We know healthcare professionals are often stretched thin and working under tremendous pressure.