Nearly a year ago, when I wrote the blog When You Meet a Stranger’s Husband, I noted that I was rarely with family when keeping vigil. During the week I met with Ferdinand, I was fairly convinced that we would not see each other again. I was naïve to think this way since we live in the small town of Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Because the first anniversary of Isabella’s death is this week (Jan. 15), I wanted to talk about my unplanned reunion with Ferdinand. It happed on August 15; seven…

There is a long-standing joke in my family. At the funeral of a guy, the [insert clergy member of choice here] approaches the casket to begin the eulogy. He hesitates. Pauses. Fidgets a little and finally says, “His brother was worse.”

I have a pet peeve regarding eulogies. It makes me absolutely livid when the person officiating defines the person by her illness, rather than by her accomplishments, or, even worse, when a person is remembered in negative terms.

This brand of eulogy was given for an aunt of mine who had…

On a frigid Halloween night, sipping hot chocolate and wondering why anyone actually cares about Kim Kardashian’s 72 days of marriage, I was surveying Facebook, and saw that my friend Ivy posted the eulogy read by Steve Jobs’ sister, author, and English professor Mona Simpson. In it, Ms. Simpson wrote of meeting him for the first time (he was adopted and searched her out), their relationship over the years, and the end of his journey.

I don’t know when exactly my tears started to flow. I don’t know if it was…

As a pediatric nurse, I often spend my days going from one home to another seeing patients, some sicker than others, advising parents who are either managing their child’s care with great ease (it appears) or floundering in feelings of overwhelming agony. I spend my time teaching, reviewing, and assuring parents that they are doing a great job, and I correct any errors in care as smoothly as possible.

At the end of the day, I will sometimes get a call from one of these parents. The worst is happening, and…

My experience on September 11 has been well documented in the media, whether in an interview that took place later that morning in which the reporter’s characterization of me went something like: “said Abby Spilka, in a highly emotional state one hour after the attacks” to the time I was interviewed by Channel 9 News with the screen identification “Eyewitness to Terror.” I have given testimony to the Columbia University 9/11 Narrative and Memory Project and written about it for Museum News. I have blogged about it for the Museum…

Working in health care means learning to work very closely with families of all sizes and varieties. Some small, some large. Some close-knit, some spread out across the country. As the world has changed in the last century, so has the dynamic of family life. Each relationship within a family plays a different role, and each family copes with illness in their own way.

Many years ago I worked with a child who had been diagnosed with a terminal leukemia. He was the oldest of four children, an incredibly bright and…

I was a young woman and a relatively new nurse when I began working for VNSNY in 1998. My days and years past are filled with precious memories and experiences as an employee of the Visiting Nurse Service of New York. All of those professional experiences transcend to my heart and spirit to become an integral part of the person, woman, mother, wife, sister, daughter, aunt, friend, and nurse I have become. But THE day that stands out for me the most is a day that is full of sorrow…

I have been a bit neglectful of my blogging responsibilities of late, something I don’t need to remind my VNSNY colleagues. July has been a month of transitions for me. I have a new role at work, which is both exciting and daunting. And while I am still learning to balance official responsibilities with unofficial responsibilities, and taking on new tasks while maintaining all of the old ones would seem to be what is proving to be most difficult, it is not. And this brings me to the other transition…

Life is unpredictable and you never really know which way it will take you. As health professionals, we go in with the expectation (and hope) that we will impart some wisdom, say the right words or perhaps do something that makes “everything all right” for our patients when they encounter experiences they had not anticipated. We have stories to share and we hope it can help others make sense of the chaos life can be.

However at times the tables are turned and it’s the patient who ends up helping us.…