A Nurse Survives and Thrives After Conquering Breast Cancer

By Arden Moore, NurseZone contributor

Inside the dimly lit hospital room, Lillie Shockney had just kissed and hugged her husband, Al, goodbye for the night. She looked at the clock and the glowing digital numbers: 10:05 p.m.

Earlier that day, Shockney underwent a mastectomy to remove her cancerous left breast and now, for the first time, she was alone, in a hospital bed, and feeling afraid.

"How are you?" Asked a nurse who walked into her room.

Trying to be stoic–and being a registered nurse herself, Shockney, quickly replied, "I’m fine," as she tried to turn her thoughts into the clinical aspects of cancer while divorcing her thoughts of her own medical and emotional needs.

But the nurse was persistent. She moved closer, locked eyes with Shockney and gently repeated, "How ARE you?"

The tears flowed as Shockney allowed the nurse named Myckie to lower the side rail so she could get close enough to hold her patient’s trembling hand. Without saying a word, the nurse listened to Shockney, then 38, unleash her fears and anger about now adding the title, "breast cancer patient" to her personal biography.

Another nurse entered the room briskly and blurted out, "Hey Myckie, you’re late for giving your report."

"Tell them to wait. I’m here with a patient," the nurse replied.

That was 10 years ago, and today, Shockney, now an education and outreach director for the Johns Hopkins Breast Center in Baltimore, Maryland, reminds her nursing staff of the magical bedside manner of Myckie.

"To truly be a complete and caring nurse, you have to be a Myckie," explained Shockney, who travels throughout the country giving motivational speeches to cancer patients and nursing staff. "If you go into this nursing profession for the right reason, I tell my staff, you have to be a Myckie–I won’t tolerate anything less."

"I consider it the most feared disease among all women," says Shockney. "More women die from heart disease, but breast cancer remains the biggest psychological threat to them."

She knows. Two years after her first breast cancer operation, Shockney learned that cancer had invaded her right breast. Another mastectomy ensued, but she has been cancer free for eight years.

"When you get diagnosed with breast cancer, the news not only shakes your foundation, but you worry about the impact it will have on your marriage–how your husband will look at you," she said. "For some couples, this is the biggest test in their marriage. But my husband, Al, surpassed my expectations. He said I was having ‘transformation’ surgery, that I was exchanging my cancerous breast for a second chance at life and that was a good trade. I am fortunate to have him in my life."

Shockney provides patients with two powerful weapons against this disease: humor and a positive attitude.

Instead of lamenting about the loss of her breasts, she decided to name her prosthetics: Betty Boop and Bobbie Sue. Then she went one step further–sending out "adoption" notices about her prosthetics to her nursing friends, providing the dimension and "birth dates" of their arrival.

The reaction: humorous replies and even gifts, including a prized ceramic baby bottle ornament bearing the inscription, "Betty Boop’s First Christmas 1992."

Today, Shockney also shares with her patients the laugh-provoking conversations she had with her then-12-year-old daughter, Laura, as Shockney prepared for her first mastectomy.

Today, Shockney reminds her nurse colleagues of the need to be sincerely empathetic and to serve as models of health by getting regular mammograms, pap smears, and physical exams.

"Until you hear those words: ‘You have breast cancer,’ you will never truly know what your patients are feeling," Shockney said. "Losing a breast, no matter how old you are or how big or small it is, has a direct impact on a woman’s personal image and her sexuality. As a nurse, you need to help patients express what they are thinking or feeling because from a stress management standpoint, it is very healing to let them express themselves."

She continued, "As nurses, you don’t have to have the magical answer to the question asked by a patient, ‘Why me?’ Hold their hand, let them vent, and listen."

Since becoming the breast center’s education and outreach director in 1997, Shockney has pushed for three key changes in the breast cancer program at Johns Hopkins.

After experiencing firsthand the nauseating effects of waking up from anesthesia, she worked with doctors and specialists to switch to a different form of anesthesia and to give patients anti-nausea medications so that they wake up without any stomach upset.

Her second change: schedule pre-surgery with patients–what she calls ‘dress rehearsals’–to walk through what they will experience during the surgery and post-op. "These dress rehearsals help reduce anxiety and make surgery day a better one for everyone, including patients, family members and nurses," Shockney explained. "It seems to help in the healing."

Her final change: Removing the excuse often spoken by her nursing colleagues that they don’t have time to book an appointment for a mammogram. She was instrumental in the creation of a new hospital policy that allows nurses to receive mammograms and pap smears at Johns Hopkins during their work shifts.

"Surprisingly, the worst group to not get mammograms or pap smears tends to be oncology nurses," Shockney said. "Their attitude often seems to be of, ‘I’d rather not know because look where I’ll end up–as a patient.’ But I encourage my nurses to be models for their patients by being examples of good health practices and of people who can catch cancer early. By doing what we tell our patients, we can save lives."