Kjerstine A, the emergency room nurse who cared for me, did not give up on me when I was completely broken.

I had been in and out of the hospital and ER multiple times over the previous seven days. My body was reacting severely to every attempt to secure my central line due to complex medical conditions, including mast cell disease, MS, lupus, and other comorbidities. Adhesives caused chemical burns, blistering, and intense rashes that left me in constant pain and unable to sleep for over a week. Each failed attempt felt like confirmation that there was no solution and that I was running out of options.

I was also alone for the holidays. No family. No friends. Just pain, fear, and the overwhelming feeling that my life was shrinking because my body would not cooperate. I carry PTSD from years of being told that things would be “fine,” only to be gaslit when they weren’t. By the time I arrived in the ER that day, I had lost hope and truly believed that losing my central line would mean losing my ability to function at home and manage my care.

Kjerstine changed all that. She listened, really listened. She believed me. When the first dressing caused immediate blistering and redness within seconds, she didn’t minimize it. She saw it. She acknowledged it. And instead of walking away, she stayed and kept trying.

She tested multiple dressings on my hands and arms, carefully watching my skin react. She made phone calls, left detailed notes in my chart so wound care and other specialists could reach me faster, and advocated for me in ways I didn’t even know were possible in such a busy ER. At one point, she returned with what felt like every possible dressing option, determined to find something that wouldn’t hurt me.

What I will never forget is how she made me feel while doing all of this. I never felt like a burden. I never felt rushed. She spent real time with me and treated me with dignity, kindness, and patience. In that moment, when I felt invisible and defeated, she made me feel human again.

Kjerstine ultimately came up with a solution that no one else had considered, not other providers, not wound care, and not even me, despite extensive research and reaching out to medical friends. She suggested using a Biopatch with sterile gauze and securing it with an elastic ACE wrap to completely avoid adhesive contact with my skin. This worked in combination with the stitches placed in my PICC line during a prior ER visit, eliminating the need for a Statlock that had previously caused severe reactions and contributed to the loss of my Hickman line.

Because of her persistence and creativity, my arm and chest are no longer burning for the first time in weeks. I am able to keep my central line and continue my medications at home. I cannot adequately express the relief and the emotional release I felt realizing that this wasn’t the end.

I have been chronically ill since 1998 and have experienced countless hospitalizations and nurses over the years. I can say without hesitation that Kjerstine is the first nurse ever to move me to nominate someone for a DAISY Award. I am still crying happy tears because of what she gave me that day: relief, hope, and the feeling that my life still has a path forward.

Kjerstine embodies everything the DAISY Award stands for: compassion, advocacy, clinical excellence, and humanity. I will never forget her kindness or the way she refused to give up on me when I had given up on myself.