« We’re not just taking care of the patients—we’re taking care of the families, too.»
Why did you want to become a nurse?
"Oh wow, this started when I was in Iran, during the revolution. Everything was closed, so I went to a school where you train as a nurse's aide. I was working up close with patients and thought it was the best time I’d ever had. Then I came here, life happened, and when I was old enough, I got my bachelor’s in biology. I worked in a company testing medications on animals—another lifetime for me laughs. One day, I realized I wanted to go back to nursing. I was 38 years old. Everybody laughed at me, saying, ‘What the heck, you’re going into nursing again?’ But I thought, this is how I can truly connect with people in a meaningful way.
My family was supportive, but some were reluctant—'At your age, you want to go back to school to become a nurse?' But once I started, every interaction with patients and families made me more convinced. I love this connection, this give-and-take. You start thinking you're there to help, but you realize they're helping you, too. Now, 20 years later, I’m still happy. I learn something every day—from a patient, a family, or my team—and I go home, and I don’t have to yell at my husband laughs. It puts life into perspective. You see people in worse situations than you, and you appreciate the simplest things."
I’m sure you’ve had a lot of good connections with patients, is there maybe one or two that you remember that really stuck with you?
"I still have connections with some families. A patient had cancer and passed away, and I spent a lot of time with his daughter and wife. To this day, the daughter, who was just 12 back then, still sends me emails about how much our connection meant to them. Even though the outcome wasn’t what anyone wanted, the kindness you show to a family comes back tenfold.
There was a patient, a soldier, who lost his legs in a motorcycle accident. I never wore a Remembrance Day pin before because of what war meant to me, but hearing his story changed me. Since then, every year, I wear the pin and send him a picture. Last time, he sent me one back—holding his newborn granddaughter. He lost his legs, but he’s here, holding his grandchild.
During COVID, we lost a patient badly injured in a farm accident. Her family wasn’t allowed to visit, but we fought to let her sister in. At the bedside, as she was passing, her whole family was on the phone, singing her favorite song. It was one of the most human moments I’ve ever witnessed. Later, on her birthday, her sister brought us flowers to thank us for giving her those last moments with her sister. I keep her card on the wall because these things should be remembered.
We have a wall of hope—photos, notes from patients and families. Some of them passed away, but for their families, we gave them a good ending. And for the ones who survived, it reminds them of hope."
I can see this is really emotional for you. After 20 years of forming deep connections with your patients, how do you cope with the emotional weight of the job, especially when difficult situations arise?
"People say, 'Oh, you’re a nurse, you must be so strong.’ But we stay human. Some nurses say, ‘I don’t want to cry in front of families.’ I cry all the time. You don’t want to cry more than them, but sometimes they end up comforting me. It’s not a 9-to-5 job where you file papers and go home. These are people. It’s like having a big family—you’re not equally close to everyone, but when one is suffering, you step in. The challenge is not bringing it home. My support group is my colleagues, my family, my husband—the poor guy hears all my stories laughs. But it also makes me appreciate what I have. If I see a scratch on my car, I don’t care. The carpet doesn’t match the curtains? It’s not a big deal. Some cases stay with you longer, and when it gets too much, the hospital offers support. Sometimes you need a psychologist, sometimes you just need someone to listen."
How do you feel about the working conditions, long hours, and the way Quebec manages its healthcare system?
"It’s frustrating sometimes, not because of money but because of basic things. If you finish a night shift and need blood work, you still have to go through the same complicated system as everyone else. If hospitals treated their own staff like they mattered, we’d give back even more. During COVID, we were ‘angels,’ and now we’re just ‘mean nurses who are going on strike.’ But we’re doing the same job. Nobody comes into this profession for the money. They could do other things and earn more. We come because we care."
To wrap things up, if someone outside the healthcare sector were reading this, what would you want them to know about nurses, hospitals, or healthcare in general?
"The people who work in hospitals—nurses, doctors, and staff—are here because, at their core, they are compassionate individuals who want to help others. Nobody comes to a hospital thinking, "Let me go there today to harm someone" or "Let me go there to be harmed." They come because they genuinely care.
It’s important for anyone interacting with the healthcare system to understand that, even when things go wrong—when we lose a patient or face critical situations—the one constant across all roles is a shared commitment to doing good for the patient. This is what unites everyone, from healthcare professionals to the patients' families.
If we can all embrace that perspective—keeping the patient at the center of everything we do—it could transform the entire system. It’s not us versus them; it’s all of us working together for the patient. Hopefully, one day, we’ll fully get there.
And by the way, we love our volunteers! We’re always happy when you’re around. Our unit coordinator even prints out the volunteer list and sets it aside, hopeful that you'll be here. It really makes a difference."
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