I was diagnosed with stage II Hodgkin’s lymphoma fresh out of my first year of college at age 18. I had faith in Penn’s promise to cure me,, but I was still petrified. Not so much of the chemo itself but more so of accessing my port. Yes I was an adult now, and I had long gotten over my childhood fear of shots but this felt like it would be much more than a tiny two-second poke.

Ever so anxious, I then met Kelly, my very first chemo nurse, whom I cut off mid-introduction, looking like a deer in headlights and badgering her with questions. The most important being how bad the needle would hurt. Yet Kelly very calmly began, to share stories with me of her time at C.H.O.P in the children’s oncology ward. And suddenly in the hands of such an experienced nurse and thoughts of all the young and brave children Kelly had worked with, I too was ready to be brave.

The best part was that after all my anxiety, Kelly was so gentle accessing my port that I barely felt any pain or fear. Her compassion for me trailed into our following encounters. Every visit, whether I was her specific patient, just nearby, in for an entire infusion, or here for a quick Neupogen shot, Kelly made sure to check on me. Even if she was stressed or having a bad day, she always made time for me. Each time going beyond just the usual ‘How are you?’, she’d follow up by remembering my specific ailments and complaints from the week prior with prepared medication recommendations and at-home tips and tricks just for me.

I hated chemo, but seeing Kelly became my silver lining. She made me feel like I was more than just another one of her patients, I felt special and truly cared about. And when treatment number five brought on, what was, particularly disappointing news in my opinion, I couldn’t help but shed some tears. I was embarrassed to be crying, especially in front of everyone. I had really tried to keep up my brave face, but I just couldn’t stop the tears. But as soon as Kelly saw the tears, she immediately popped into my room to check in on me and calm me down.

She even got a few other nurses to stop in and reassure me of my strength as a group. In minutes, my tears were gone, and I was sharing laughs with Kelly and the others. Her compliments on my shaved head made me feel like I was still beautiful, even if my nice long hair was all gone.

Down to the very end at my last infusion; despite watching her run around all shift as the swing nurse and catching maybe 2 minutes of a break the whole three-four hours I was there, Kelly made time. She came in and got me ready to leave, making her my very first and very last nurse throughout my journey. And while I pray to be in remission, I can take comfort in knowing Kelly will be there for me if my treatment must continue.

She has truly made my time at Penn special, earning smiles and laughs even on my sickest days. Without her level of compassion, kindness, and genuine care, my Penn experience these last 5 months would have fallen far short of what she made it. I am truly thankful for all of those involved in my care, but Kelly Curry is a woman I can never forget and someone I will be forever grateful for.
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There was a Bengali-speaking patient with multiple other barriers that led her to have great difficulty with getting her medications filled and also with transportation. Kelly went out of her way and spent over an hour sorting through her medications with the patient and a translator, and getting the scripts that she needed refilled. She also contacted social work and ensured the patient had a safe ride home. She goes out of her way to go above and beyond for our patients, and we feel very lucky to have a co-worker so compassionate and thorough!