It Becomes Who You Are

After more than four decades, Nan Buckley knows exactly what she hopes people remember about her. Not her title. Not how many operating rooms she managed. Not even how many years she spent at Forrest.

She hopes they remember that she cared.

“It becomes who you are. Not only did I do my job, but I cared,” she said. “You can do your job and not care. And it's not the same.”

Born at Forrest General Hospital, Nan always dreamed of becoming a nurse, inspired by a couple of nurses she knew growing up – including one who worked at the Health Department and gave her shots.

 “It’s all I ever wanted to do,” she said.

A healthcare job elsewhere, a short stint in home health, which “wasn’t my cup of tea,” and the birth of her son eventually led her to Forrest General in January 1984. She spent her first decade on a 40-bed medical-surgical floor before getting the opportunity she had been waiting for and one that didn’t come around that often — a move into surgery.

She would spend the next three decades working in different roles across surgical services, from the main operating room and quality management to The Orthopedic Institute, where she now serves as OR manager and manager for Central Sterile.

Her interest in surgery came from the one-on-one interaction and rapport she could build with her patients.

 “You only have a few minutes with a patient before they go into surgery, but you can make a big impact in those few minutes,” she said.

For Nan, that meant find a way to make a connection and help patients relax during what could be one of the most frightening moments of their lives.

“Surgery can be a scary thing,” she said. “I wanted them to know I would be there for them, to answer questions or to try and make it as easy as possible for them.”

Nan found that that simply talking to patients, “Where are you from?” or “Do you know so and so?” could uncover a connection and help put them at ease.

It’s those patient connections that have given her some of the stories she will remember forever. Many had good outcomes. Others didn’t.

“You just be there for them and let them talk,” she said.

There was the 16-year-old patient with colon cancer who asked, “Miss Nan, why me?” and the 34-year-old gastric cancer patient who talked right up until the moment he passed away.

And there are so many others she will never forget.

 “I wouldn't take anything for those experiences,” she said.

Nan moved into management at The Orthopedic Institute 18 months ago where she oversees a staff of about 32. No two days are quite the same.

She takes it all in stride.

In 43 years, Nan has also watched healthcare, and especially surgery, change dramatically.

 “There was a time when gallbladder patients once stayed seven to 10 days versus going home the same day,” she said. “The same with joint replacement. Technology improvements and medications, especially anesthesia, have made a big difference in the lives of patients.”

While she has watched healthcare change dramatically, what matters to her hasn't changed.

“The patients,” she said. “Making sure they get what they deserve — that they're taken care of. I want younger nurses to understand what it means to care for people. You can’t teach someone to care, but you can try to get them to understand how much it means for them to care.”

Somewhere along the way, nursing became part of the next generation of her family, too.

Nan's daughter, Melissa Graham, eventually followed in her mother's footsteps, although Nan made sure the decision was hers.

It seems Melissa loved surgery as much as her mom. Today, she works in the surgery department at Forrest and has been a nurse for more than 17 years.

But there is also Nan’s other family – her work family.

“I've spent as much time with some of the people I've worked with through the years as I did with my own family,” she said.

Working alongside people for 12-hour shifts means learning how to work together – and finding time to have some fun.

 “There was a group I worked with for a long time,” Nan said. “We took trips together that were quite memorable, especially a rafting trip! We’d do things together outside of work. We all knew each other’s families. If they were having trouble, or they were celebrating, we could be there for one another.”

Those relationships matter­ inside the hospital, too.

“It becomes more than just a work relationship, and I think maybe everybody worked together better because of it.”

That’s also why mentoring the next generation has become important to Nan.

 “We want them to know what’s needed to keep people working together, to keep a cohesive team together,” she said.

She has seen the value of nurse preceptors working side-by-side with new nurses and techs, giving them the opportunity to learn from someone with experience rather than relying only on books and videos.

“You can read about it all day, but until you see it or do it, it doesn’t make a lot of sense,” she said. “Experience is the best teacher.”

And Nan should know.

Born here, trained here, and having worked here for most of her adult life, much of Nan’s story has been intertwined with Forrest.

 “Forrest has been a big part of my life,” she said. “I’ve always been proud when people say, ‘Where do you work?’ and I tell them Forrest.”

“Healthcare is personal and emotional, it’s not just a job,” she said. “It’s something you’re invested in. It’s who I am, and who I’ll always be, even when I’m not working.”

 Her advice to those coming behind her is just as simple.

“Find your niche. If you find your niche, you’ll grow. And just always, always care.”

For caring. For always. For Life.