Anna’s Story: The Nights That Stay With Me

A Childhood Dream

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a nurse. As a little girl, I would line up my toys and pretend to take their temperatures, give them medicine, and look after them. To me, there was never another path—it was always this one. Caring for people was in my bones.

The Ward

Today, I work night shifts on the children’s cancer ward at Great Ormond Street Hospital in London. I see children every night who are braver than most adults I’ll ever meet. They face endless treatments, needles, sickness, and uncertainty, yet somehow they still smile, laugh, and show glimpses of their childhood even in the darkest moments.

They are remarkable. They are strong. And they remind me every single night why I chose this life.

The Quiet Guilt

But here’s the truth I don’t often say out loud. After every night shift, when I leave the hospital and the streets are still half-asleep, I feel an ache inside me. A guilt that I can’t shake.

I look at the world going about its day, and I think of those children who should be doing the same—running around, dreaming of the future, chasing their own adventures. Instead, they are fighting battles no child should ever have to fight. And even though I know in my head that it isn’t my fault, that I’m doing my best, my heart still whispers that life is unfair and I wish I could do more.

Why I Keep Showing Up

That guilt could break me—but instead, it drives me. Every smile, every brave little face, every moment of laughter I see on that ward reminds me why I keep showing up. Not because I can change the whole world, but because I can change their world in small, meaningful ways—one shift, one child, one night at a time.

And maybe that’s what life is about. Not fixing everything, but showing up quietly, again and again, for those who need us most.

— Anna, London