When I moved to Utah I knew I had to get a plan going. Job, school, maybe both, something. I knew I wanted to be a nurse and so I did some research trying to figure out what the best way was for me to go about doing that as a single mom. I wanted to get a job at a hospital so they would help pay for some of my schooling. That led me to either phlebotomy or becoming a CNA. I then called around to all of the different programs I could find in the valley and compared them. After some careful consideration I opted for the CNA route. I knew I didn't want to waste time and I wanted to jump right in so I picked the course with the closest starting date and the best schedule for my family. After calling about 15 different course providers there was only one that seemed to fit the way I wanted. Eager to secure my spot I drove there the very next day and signed up for the course.
There are a few reasons I think I was meant for that exact course. One being that in order to get to that location I would get to drive by my dad's cemetery everyday. It seems silly but little did I know that during that month I would have days where I needed to feel close to him. I would drive by every morning and shout out, "Morning dad. Help me out today if you can!" And then there were days when I was overcome with grief as I realized my mom was getting sicker and sicker. I would drive by on those days and say, "Please take care of mom today." Being able to "talk" to him gave me some added courage and comfort.
The main reason I was supposed to take that particular course was the people I met. My instructor, Linda, was divinely placed in my life at that time. During lunch and on breaks we would often get to talking as a class and Linda had such a way about her that you just felt loved and cared about. More often than not our discussions would sway towards spiritual matters, none of us having the same religious backgrounds. As she talked about the elderly people we would care for and the things they would experience often tears would fill her eyes. This is what healthcare is all about, or should be. Caring, love, healing. She taught us all a valuable lesson. It didn't take long for us classmates to form a friendship and a bond with Linda.
About half way through my course my mom came to me one day when I got home and showed me her pillow case which was sprinkled with blood. At this time my family knew she had been sick for too long but we didn't know what it was she was sick with. She had been previously diagnosed with pneumonia and given antibiotics and even steroids but she wasn't getting better. In my heart I knew there was something else wrong. I couldn't hide my concern and it didn't take Linda long to realize something was wrong. My class would sit and listen to me talk about it as we ate lunch or before class and it became a safe place for me to vent.
We were doing clinics at a skilled nursing facility one Friday and my mom was supposed to be getting the results back from her doctor that day as to whether or not she had cancer. I had wanted to stay home and be with my mom when she received the news but she insisted I go and she would call me right away. So I went and I asked Linda for special permission to answer my phone should it ring. About halfway through the morning my phone started buzzing in my scrubs pocket. It just so happens I was answering call lights with Linda at that exact moment. "Can I take it?" "Go". I stepped out into the hall waiting to hear my mom confirm what I already knew. Deep breathe, "Hey so?" Two. Words. "It's cancer." "Do you need me to come home? Are you okay?" I asked. My mom insisted that I stay. So I hung up just as Linda came out into the hall. She looked at me with eyes that knew and simply said, "you need to go". At that point the tears started flowing and wouldn't stop. SHOCK! SO MUCH SHOCK! "How is this real? Cancer. Cancer. Cancer." I kept repeating it in my mind. "My mom has cancer." Linda walked me down the stairs and out to my car. She grabbed my hands, looked me in the eyes, and wiped my snot from my face. (That's right. She wiped my gross, runny nosed, snot. That's compassion!) "Are you going to be okay driving home?" "Yes." She hugged me and told me to go be with my mom. "You should both get a priesthood blessing," And as she turned to walk away, "Oh and Celeste, seek comfort in the scriptures."
I am so pleased to say that Linda and I are still friends. We just went to lunch last week in fact. Her sweet spirit and her passion for serving others have changed me. I know I was supposed to be with her when I found out about my mom's cancer. I know I was supposed to take that class to prepare me for all of the things I would have to do to care for my mom. I know I needed to drive by my dad often to feel some support from him. My classmates will be my life long friends. I know I was supposed to meet them. They were supposed to make me laugh and smile by saying stupid things like, "you look like John Travolta". They too had hard things they were experiencing and going through. We were an odd bunch. I don't think any of us would ever have become friends without that class with such diverse backgrounds. Linda was our glue. That class was more than a CNA certification program. It was where we were all supposed to be to find each other.
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