Walking into the hospital at 7:30 AM, coffee in one hand and a badge in the other, I take a deep breath. It’s another day on the oncology department, where strength, resilience, and hope will fill every corner.
Some days are filled with happiness and good news, others with emotional and difficult conversations. But through it all, my role as an oncology nurse is to provide care, comfort, and empathy with kindness and knowledge.
Before the patients arrive, me and my colleagues check the list of the day. Who’s getting chemo today? Any chemo changes? Which patients need extra support? My team and I ask the doctors for updates, sharing notes and words of encouragement.
Then, at the 8’ clock the first patient arrives "Good morning! How are you feeling today?" do you have something to tell us? Any changes? how was the last treatment? I ask with a smile. In the meantime, I check vitals, assess pain levels, draw blood tests and make sure they’re as comfortable as possible. Some patients are chatty, and they describe in detail any symptoms, others are more silent and fearful. It is not always easy to understand everything. As an oncology nurse, I have been trained to assess patients with different needs and obtain the best possible assessment from everyone. The morning continues with the usual routine: scheduled visits for patients and the wait for the start of therapies.
By 10 AM, Chemotherapy and other infusions are starting. I double-check medications, safety is everything when handling hazardous drugs. Some patients use this time to nap; others to talk with their families by phone or to work with their laptop. These hours are difficult moments too, some patients experience nausea, pain or are emotional, hoping that this one will be the last treatment.
Cancer treatments can be brutal, and even small comforts, a warm blanket, a glass of water, a smile can make a world of difference. I offer reassuring words, and sometimes, just sit in silence. While seating, I am also observing: how does their skin look like? Are they well hydrated? Do they have any signs of pain?
Another big part of my job is to educate patient and caregivers explaining side effects, answering all their questions and offering guidance on what else to expect. Cancer doesn’t just affect the body, it affects the mind, the spirit, and entire families.
At one o’clock, some therapies have ended, while others are finishing. Lunchtime. Maybe. Oncology nurses learn to eat when they can. Some days, it’s a peaceful break; other times, a patient's sudden fever or reaction to treatment means I’m rushing down the hall instead.
By 3 PM, I’m finishing up charting, making final rounds, and handing off reports for the next day.
Before I leave, I take a deep breath. Today was heavy. But I know that in the smallest ways, I made a difference.
Oftentimes, I will go home and continue learning: readying latest therapy updates, attending webinars, preparing specialized licensure examinations… other times, I will prioritize being with my family and friends, or participating in a hobby. As important as it is to stay updated and be knowledgeable in our jobs, taking care of our bodies and minds is essential to prevent burn out and provide the best care possible day after day.
But every day I am reminded that being an oncology nurse is more than a job. It’s walking alongside people in their hardest moments, offering care beyond medicine. It’s exhausting, emotional, and sometimes heartbreaking but it’s also one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.
Tomorrow, I’ll do it all over again.