It is understandable that most of the patients who come to the unit for their first chemotherapy are anxious, emotional, and ultimately afraid. Then add to this a sudden move to a new country, a new healthcare team, a potential progression in disease and the fear of the unknown back at home. Such factors impact the patients and their companions daily, and there is no way of knowing how each patient will be when they come to clinic, and no manual on how to deal with such scenarios.

In a particular moment in December, we had one of our Gaza patients who had been informed that she was not responding to chemotherapy and would need urgent surgery. Whilst in the room having this discussion, the patient's husband had just found out their home had been destroyed and close family members were killed. There was so much emotion in the room that day. The way Vanessa took the patient's hand, the way she smiled at her, and conversed with her in Arabic was one of the poignant moments in nursing that makes you say to yourself, ‘this is why I became a nurse’. Vanessa was just being the wonderful nurse she is but in that moment, this patient reached out to her, looking to her for comfort in one of the darkest times of her life. It was the safe haven that Vanessa had created in that same treatment room every Monday that provided the patient with enough comfort to see her through that moment.

The following day, the patient went out of her way to praise Vanessa’s kindness in her moment of need for it. Now, the way the patient and her husband stroll into the unit like they are on a social outing every Monday with such ease and calm speaks volumes to me about the impact Vanessa has made on this patient's time at MAIR. I am so grateful to you, Vanessa, thank you.