Our NICU nurses rallied, volunteering to help by setting up a schedule, undergoing training and caring for him 24/7. We worked 4- to 8-hour shifts, sharing our wisdom and expertise to care for the newborn. We felt privileged to help and participate. Our nurses gave so much love and care to Sandar. He was no different than any of our other patients—well, maybe just a little furrier.

Sandar struggled to maintain a normal body temperature and needed to have a feeding tube inserted in his nose so he got the right amount of calories. The volunteer NICU nurses made every effort to ensure the schedule to care for Sandar was always full. You might think it would be a challenge to find people to share their personal time, but we had 16 nurses on the volunteer schedule and at least 25 more were willing to help. Our commitment allowed Zoo Atlanta staff more time to focus on the veterinary care of the newborn—and all the other animal patients.

Sadly, after two months, Sandar passed away, but his presence had such an impact on our staff that he’ll be remembered forever. Whether it’s picking up an extra shift for a colleague or volunteering to watch over a sick orangutan, we love to help each other—and the Atlanta community. We’re a family at Children’s—and families take care of their own.

Chrys Fields and Melissa Goodbread
Staff Nurses, Children’s at Egleston

The working conditions and resources were alarming. I was one of just three Pediatric Intensive Care Unit registered nurses on the trip, and our experience with pediatric patients, particularly preemies, was in high demand. We were immediately put to work, but with limited resources, we struggled.

We had a makeshift PICU and NICU, operating on a U.S. Naval ship, but these units were like nothing I had ever seen or experienced before. Nearly every child had an amputation of some sort, most were infected, and the ship had run out of antibiotics. We saw patients with tuberculosis, typhoid and tetanus. We made our own feeding bags.

Sanitation was a challenge. We quickly ran out of gloves and masks, and we had no bath supplies except for tiny towelettes and small amounts of antibacterial spray. We had to reuse suction catheters, with only soap and water to clean them between patients. We worked 12- to 14-hour shifts, seven days a week.

Most of the children we treated had lost their parents. One preemie came to us in a cardboard box that a Navy soldier had found by the side of the road in Port-au-Prince.

Despite the mountain of challenges we faced, I know we made a difference. Even if all we could do was comfort children, it was important for us to be there. I’ll never forget caring for an 8-year-old boy that had been critically injured when a house fell on him. He had lost his left arm and right leg; his face was crushed. I didn’t know what to do, so I found some bubbles and began blowing them around him. He started to smile and then laugh. Seeing the smile on his face reminded me that, in spite of all of their hardships, these were still children that needed the special kind of care we give to kids.

Knowing how to offer special care to children is something Children’s taught me. My training at Children’s also gave me the confidence and skills to improvise solutions in a really rough environment, and the support of my co-workers back home inspired me and sustained me during the trip. I never thought I’d be able to do what I did in Haiti, but I’m so glad I did. And I’m so grateful Children’s gave me the training and support I needed to make it possible.

Jeannette Joslin
Staff Nurse, Children’s at Egleston

Two weeks earlier, while on vacation in Colorado, I was horsing around with friends when we decided to jump on a train and ride it into town. It was snowy that day, and when I attempted to jump on the train, I slipped on ice and the train ran over my legs.

After a hospitalization in Colorado, I flew home. In fact, I had only been in Atlanta one day when Colleen called from the Children’s Limb Deficiency Center to ask if I was ready to get up and start walking. That blew my mind, and set me on a forward-moving path I continue following today, 14 years later.

When something as catastrophic as losing a limb occurs, you can go two directions, and only one of them is positive. Colleen and the entire Children’s team pushed me toward the right path; helping me find my own strength and never letting me feel sorry for myself. It took three years and numerous setbacks before I could walk comfortably on my prosthetics without exhaustion, but somewhere along the way I found the confidence to press ahead and, ultimately, excel.

In those difficult months immediately following the loss of my legs, I never imagined the doors that would open to me as a consequence of the accident. But during the course of my recovery, I began playing wheelchair basketball, an activity that has become an integral part of who I am. It led to an athletic scholarship at the University of Illinois, where I trained intensively. After graduating in 2004, I made the Paralympics basketball team, traveling to Athens, Greece, to compete. In 2006, I was part of our national team that won a silver medal at the World Championships in Amsterdam. It was an extraordinary experience.

These days, I teach physical education at an elementary school and continue competing both locally and nationally. I am so grateful to Colleen for the inspiration she gave me when I needed it most. In an effort to give back, I visit Children’s often, encouraging patients as well as their parents to look for the positive path in their own lives.

My goal is to show them that life is definitely not over and to remind them that there are many opportunities for people who are amputees or paraplegic or have any kind of disability. My hope is that I can be their right person at the right time, as Colleen was for me.

Gavin Cloy
Former Children’s Patient and Current Children’s Volunteer

Doctors said he’d never walk again. But they were able to reattach his foot and, many surgeries later, repair his leg. Due to the severity of the injuries and risk for infection, my father stayed in the hospital for the next four years. Because the hospital was so far away and they had a large family to care for, his parents couldn’t visit.

When I was a boy in Colombia, my father told that story often. And his memories were always about the nurses. They’d not only treated his injuries and helped him walk again, but they dispelled the loneliness, giving him love, kindness and comfort. They celebrated holidays, gave gifts, even taught him to read. To this day, he remembers their names.

By the age of 10, I knew my life’s purpose was to serve others as a thank you for God’s blessings and the caregivers who helped my father. During high school in the U.S., a speaker described the close relationship between nurses and patients, which is when I knew I wanted to be a nurse. Then, on a college trip to a Mexican hospital, I saw a young boy with a broken leg. It was as if I were looking down at my father. In that emotional moment, I chose pediatric nursing.

Today, my father walks with only a slight limp. He has earned a college degree, traveled the world and raised a family. And I’ve become a pediatric nurse at Children’s. I feel like I’ve won the lottery, because I actually get paid to do what I love.

Although I never met my father’s childhood nurses, they were certainly my inspiration. And I hope that when some of my patients grow up, they’ll tell their own children about a kind, funny nurse named Oscar. I hope they’ll remember me as someone who made them laugh, helped them through a rough time and reminded them always to reach for their dreams.

Oscar Silva
Staff Nurse, Children’s at Scottish Rite

It just goes to show that even when you feel like there is no one there to listen, an unexpected angel will come and brighten up your day. I was able to talk to her and tell her about some of my problems. Instead of her trying to fix everything or taking the easy way out and telling me that everything will be okay, Ms. Chillis actually sat and listened with an open heart, and she gave me feedback that wasn’t biased or demeaning in any shape or form. I felt like I made a really good friend in here, and we have kept in touch over the past few months.

Anquinita “Rae” Beck, Diet Clerk
Food Services
Children’s at Egleston

Recently, we decided to plan an event for patients of the Aflac Cancer Center and Blood Disorder Services. We wanted to give some of our adolescent patients an opportunity to meet other kids their age in a stress-free environment, outside of the hospitals. Our goal was to help our teen patients meet others who were working through similar medical diagnoses and treatments. Once we put the word out that we were hoping to organize an off-campus event, help came from all over almost instantly.

The Foundation stepped up to help, and donors came forward to offer a box at a Braves game and catering. It took just a few days for our co-workers and peers to help us pull together the perfect event. Getting a group of teenagers excited about going to a “support group” meeting would have been impossible, but because of the venue and the nature of the event, we were able to offer these patients a fun environment to meet each other. Some of them wanted to talk about their illnesses, some of them just wanted to make new friends. It was great to see them connecting, because they can offer each other support in ways we can’t.

The game was memorable for many of our patients. One patient had never been to a baseball game before, and it was great to see the look on her face as the Braves took the field and the crowd began to cheer. Another patient hadn’t been out socially since receiving a tough diagnosis; it was amazing to see him interact with his peers. For us, it was another powerful example of how our co-workers and Children’s support us. Children’s is great place to be a child life specialist. Our leaders and our peers believe in the work that we do, and it shows in the things we do for children. When word gets around that people are doing something special for a patient—a prom, a night out with the Braves, whatever it is—people want to pitch in. They want to be a part of improving these patients’ lives in every way. It sounds like a cliché, but the sign in our employee corridor says it all, “Today, you will make a difference in the life of a child.” All of our employees are making a difference, and when we all work together for our patients, the impact is unmatched.

Elyse Heidelberg and Karen McCarthy
Child Life Specialists
Children’s at Scottish Rite

What I’ve learned, though, is that my patients are a lot like other kids. They act out to communicate, but they need comfort, compassion and friendship. I’ve been working with one patient for three years, trying to help him to develop his communication skills. He’s almost 22 years old, but mentally, he’s not any more developed than a toddler. He struggles to control his behavior, which can be intimidating from any child but is almost frightening from a 22-year-old with the size and strength of a young man. Because of his outbursts and his size, people outside of Marcus tend to shy away from him. He has spent a lot of his life isolated. When he comes through our doors, though, he’s surrounded by staff members that he considers friends, and I can just see the relief on his face. We’re like an extended family for him. We’ve taught him to use pictures to express needs and wants. The more he is able to communicate using pictures and signs, the less agitated he is. It took a lot of time and patience, but helping him find a voice to express himself was well worth the wait It’s not uncommon for us to work with a patient for months, or even years, to achieve small breakthroughs, but every little victory reaffirms that we’re changing the lives of our patients and their families with the work we do.

Catey Funaiock
Behavior Data Analyst
Marcus Autism Center

I wanted to take the chance to brag on these three individuals because I believe this is a pretty awesome story. Even better, I GET TO WORK WITH THESE PEOPLE! How great is that! People would be jealous! It makes even those rare mornings when I find it hard to get up and get going, that much easier because I have amazing co-workers that help to make this job even better.

Anne Howell, MSW, NICU Social Worker
Children’s at Scottish Rite