Tables turned
As a medical student, I thought I knew what life was like on a hospital ward Stacey Braddish, 23, Dublin
Scanning the image of my patient’s heart on the monitor, I stifled a cough ‘Excuse me,’ I choked.
As a Cardiac Physiology student at Connolly Hospital in Dublin, it was my job to check for signs something was wrong.
It could mean life or death for my patient.
Working in a hospital, helping people, was something I’d dreamt of doing since I was little.
And now, in October 2019, in my third year of a fouryear medical degree, I was well on my way to fulfilling my dreams.
Only, for months now, I’d been struggling with this cough.
Felt breathless as
I walked up and down the hospital stairs.
Probably a chest infection, I reasoned.
But my mum Jackie, then 50, and dad Synan, then 58, were worried.
Insisted I went to the doctor, who sent me straight to Connolly Hospital for an X-ray.
I knew how it all worked, so didn’t expect any results for a few days.
Only, afterwards, the radiologist came over to me with a clipboard. ‘Would you mind waiting, we should have the results today,’ she said.
I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous.
They must have found something, I pondered, pacing around the hospital grounds.
But what? Some kind of mass, cancer..?
I batted that thought from my mind as quickly as it came. I treated cancer patients, they were rarely 21-year-olds like me. Only, when I was called back 30 minutes later, it wasn’t good news. ‘We’ve detected a tumour, about 10cm long, in your chest,’ the radiologist explained to me.
She couldn’t say for sure what it was – I’d need more tests.
But I was dumbfounded. How can this be happening?
Over the next days, Mum waited with me while I had a biopsy and a CT scan.
Afterwards, my consultant confirmed I had Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a type of blood cancer.
‘You’ll need four to six months of chemotherapy,’ she said.
I was too stunned to even speak.
I was so young, I’d felt invincible.
My whole life ahead of me. ‘I was planning to work in a hospital, not be a patient in one,’ I sobbed to Mum.
Two weeks later I had my first round of chemo.
The next few months were really tough.
I had four hours of chemo every two weeks. Felt so sick, I couldn’t get out of bed.
At first, I’d hoped to continue studying.
But, within days, I’d admitted defeat, my energy levels completely depleted.
So I took a year out, and life, my dream career, was officially on hold.
Mum, Dad, and my twin brother, called Synan like Dad, then 21, rallied.
Friends sent flowers and cards.
Colleagues tried to hide the shock from their faces when they bumped into me on the ward.
‘I’m so sorry,’ they’d say, trying not to stare at my thinning hair, dark eyes and gaunt cheeks.
‘It’s OK,’ I said, happy to listen to them chatter away about their assignments.
A small taste of my old life.
Then, just before my last round of chemo, in February 2020, a scan revealed the tumour still hadn’t budged.
While doctors mulled over what to do next, I hit rock bottom.
Wondered if I’d ever finish my degree, do another shift in hospital.
Or if I’d be a patient in one – waiting for the unthinkable to happen...
I was stunned. Was so young, I felt invincible