Melissa Roslevege
February 2013
Melissa
Roslevege
,
RN
Pediatric Hematology/Oncology
Penn State Hershey Medical Center
Hershey
,
PA
United States
...The text came at 9:39 pm last night and started with "sorry to bother you, but" Melissa, whose official work day had ended many hours earlier, was letting me know that one of our patients had developed a worsening nausea and a headache at home, and his mother had gotten in touch with her. Unfortunately I didn't notice this text until I received a second one at 10:03 pm. "Never mind," Melissa texted, "another Fellow helped me" to take care of the patient.
I imagine I should write about one of the more extraordinary feats Melissa has accomplished on behalf of our pediatric oncology and hematology patients, but what struck me today looking over last night's text was how typical they were and how unexceptional they seemed at the time.
Yesterday was an ordinary day for Melissa. She left at the end of the day with a pile of work to do at home and a family of her own to care for. Her pager was off, but she remained "on call" as always for our patients and their families. Many of them prefer to email, text or call Melissa, knowing she'll respond right away with helpful suggestions, compassion and her unique brand of TLC, than to page the doctor on call (even though they know we're generally empathic and helpful bunch, or at least I like to hope that we are). The patient turned to his mom because he was feeling sick, and his mom turned to Melissa.
Melissa didn't grumble about being contacted at night, and she didn't simply "pass along" the problem so she could get back to her family. She actively searched for someone who could help, and they worked on an appropriate solution together. She apologized for "bothering" me even though she didn't see herself as having been bothered. She saw her patient's discomfort as her own problem. It caused her distress to know that one of her patients and his mother were having trouble, and she couldn't rest until she found a way to help. This is a day-to-day Melissa Roslevege. Last night was nothing out of the ordinary, and I could probably write dozens of these mini-essays every month.
When Melissa was out recently for medical leave, I discovered how much she does quietly on a daily basis and how difficult it is to fill her shoes, even temporarily. The same patient's mother passed along a message to me today that Melissa "ROCKS" and that she deserves a raise. I unfortunately have no control over Melissa's salary, but at least I can request formal confirmation of the fact that she "rocks." I am privileged to work with her and share in the care of our patients, and I think she deserves the recognition of the DAISY Award.
I imagine I should write about one of the more extraordinary feats Melissa has accomplished on behalf of our pediatric oncology and hematology patients, but what struck me today looking over last night's text was how typical they were and how unexceptional they seemed at the time.
Yesterday was an ordinary day for Melissa. She left at the end of the day with a pile of work to do at home and a family of her own to care for. Her pager was off, but she remained "on call" as always for our patients and their families. Many of them prefer to email, text or call Melissa, knowing she'll respond right away with helpful suggestions, compassion and her unique brand of TLC, than to page the doctor on call (even though they know we're generally empathic and helpful bunch, or at least I like to hope that we are). The patient turned to his mom because he was feeling sick, and his mom turned to Melissa.
Melissa didn't grumble about being contacted at night, and she didn't simply "pass along" the problem so she could get back to her family. She actively searched for someone who could help, and they worked on an appropriate solution together. She apologized for "bothering" me even though she didn't see herself as having been bothered. She saw her patient's discomfort as her own problem. It caused her distress to know that one of her patients and his mother were having trouble, and she couldn't rest until she found a way to help. This is a day-to-day Melissa Roslevege. Last night was nothing out of the ordinary, and I could probably write dozens of these mini-essays every month.
When Melissa was out recently for medical leave, I discovered how much she does quietly on a daily basis and how difficult it is to fill her shoes, even temporarily. The same patient's mother passed along a message to me today that Melissa "ROCKS" and that she deserves a raise. I unfortunately have no control over Melissa's salary, but at least I can request formal confirmation of the fact that she "rocks." I am privileged to work with her and share in the care of our patients, and I think she deserves the recognition of the DAISY Award.