The Beaded Bracelet by a Girl with Cancer
How a Simple Bracelet Helps Me Remember the Good from my Times as a Nurse.
Colleen K Pulley 8-17-2024
On my desk sits a dull beaded bracelet. For the last 12 years as a nurse, it hung around my stethoscope. I was given the bracelet by a little girl who lost her battle with cancer. Whenever I look at the dull beads, I am reminded of Alexanne and what she brought into my life.
I cared for Alexanne over a two-year period. I saw her lose a kidney, have her leg amputated, loose her beautiful red hair, and held the bucket when she threw up after her chemotherapy. I was there for her blood transfusions. I was there when she stood looking out of the window on her door when her white blood cell count made us place her in isolation. I was there during it all. I was there when she finally couldn't fight anymore, and she took off the bracelet and told me to take care of it. I was there when she died, and I was the one who took the red balloons from her room and released them, as the rising sun streaked the sky in pinks and golds. I stood there and watched the balloons as they drifted higher and higher until I couldn't see them anymore. I thought of how Alexanne told me she was going to be in charge of the snow, because she wanted everyone to be able to lay in the snow and make snow angels.
The last night of her life I curled up on the bed with her, and told the unresponsive girl in my lap, the story of Cinderella. I knew that this was Alexanne's favorite story, and this night I read it to her, knowing it would probably be the last time she would hear it from me. I read about the wicked stepsisters tearing her gown, and how they laughed as they went off to the Ball. I read about the fairy godmother who created a coach from a pumpkin and coachmen from mice. Then I told Alexanne that the fairy godmother touched Cinderella's torn dress, and it turned into a beautiful blue gown with tiny glass slippers.
I paused as I felt a weak nudge and heard Alexanne’s muffled whisper. I leaned in as she said, "The dress is red." I had forgotten that Alexanne's favorite color was red. Then, the little voice brought tears to my eyes as she whispered, "Wear a red dress and shoes when you say goodbye." Those were the last words Alexanne spoke. Six hours later she was gone.
Alexanne's life was short. She was diagnosed at age five, just before started kindergarten. She died one week before her seventh birthday. But this little girl packed every second with laughter, and jokes, and even when the bad days came, and there were plenty of bad days, she got through them. She displayed strength of character, even against adversity.
The beads on her bracelet marked the good days. They marked the bone biopsy. They marked the transfusions. They marked when her blood count was high enough that she could play in the day room with the other kids. The last black bead marked when her cancer had metastasized to her brain.
Alexanne and her family drew strength from one another. They faced the experiences they were given and became stronger. The people who were touched by the chance to care for Alexanne were blessed far more than the heartache they felt at her loss. She made us all a little better, and certainly showed us that even a little child can teach us the way to live life to its fullness.
I told the other nurses about Alexanne's request for red dresses and shoes to be worn to her funeral. As it turned, out of the more than 1000 people who came to say their goodbyes to Alexanne, there were many red outfits on. Instead of flowers, the front of the chapel was fill with red balloons.
After we left the chapel we went into a field at the back of the church, and about 3000 red balloons floated slowly up, up, up. Even as the last reds faded out of sight, we stood there. Finally, we walked away in silence, each of us pondering our own mortality, and committed to live our lives a little bit better.
Six years later the bead bracelet is still with me. It reminds be to strive to be the best that I can be. It reminds me that when things seem to drag me down, there is always hope for a brighter day. It reminds me that it is what is within us, that makes us great. And it reminds me that I can do whatever is placed before me.
I just thought you would like something that shows you what is REALLY important in life. Think about it, folks. Something to ponder. Until later...Colleen
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