Since 2007, I've been battling life-threatening anemia, killing my red blood cells. Thankfully, infusion and this nurse came to my rescue. So anxious of my first infusion, I made my doctor attend. Within an hour of this nurse's expert IV threading, laughter, and explanations, I felt silly. "Thanks, but you can go now", I told my doctor.

Numerous infusions in the twisty, tiny veins that want to roll and collapse-some nurses have said "Enough!", but this nurse is always willing. "Hang your arm down there, gal & pump. Put ya to work this morning", she'll quip, building hot water gloves to coax my veins "Out to play". All while sharing a recipe-anything to calm, distract me, to enable her to glide the IV in before my twitchy veins notice. "We'll figure it out", she assures me on rough days. We do. Then on to her next patient, treating them all like family.

Ring! You missed your appointment, you, okay? "Purple Coband to match your blouse, how’s that kitty cat doing? Three hours- an awfully long drive with no meal prepped, no cash, Sure you're okay?" That day, leaving infusion as they were shutting down, darkness closing in, I did let her help my son and me get a hot meal. Last infusion after she shared an exercise to build up my veins, I decided it's time to thank this incredible nurse who is either helping patients or mentoring nurses.

This nurse's technical abilities, compassion, and commitment mirror the best medical care I've received. Her humor and heart exceed.

Strolling to the bathroom in my new fringed sherpa, she intercedes, "In a toilet tango, we know who'll win!" She laughs. Lying my lucky cloak on my chair, her joy! I drink it in.

Once, she shared her inspiration: A nursing teacher's reminder, "You may be the bright spot of the worst day of your patient's life." Thanks for being my bright spot! Mandatory infusions for life could be depressing. Instead, because of you, it feels like I won a lifetime membership to a MUSC health club. Somewhere your old teacher is smiling.