I knew Brian was special the first time I heard my sister Becky mention his name. As Becky’s older sister and a nurse myself, I was interested in each member of her medical team after she was diagnosed with advanced HER2-positive breast cancer in May 2002. When pressed for details about Brian Elliott, the oncology unit nurse manager and Becky’s personal “chemo nurse,” Becky’s voice would soften as she described him as “always a good listener, and he has the kindest, warmest eyes and most gentle, reassuring manner.”

Over the next four years of her treatment, Becky and Brian forged an unbreakable bond. Becky learned about Brian’s wife and daughter and his strong religious faith. Brian learned about Becky’s amazing courage and determination to continue teaching full-time and coaching gymnastics throughout her never-ending treatments. Brian once sent Becky a personal note of encouragement, telling her that even though most people saw her sailing calmly and confidently downstream, he knew how furiously she was paddling underneath the surface just to stay afloat.

Brian was a reliable, comforting presence for my sister. After it became clear Herceptin was no longer effective for her, Becky underwent a second mastectomy and Gamma Knife brain surgery last summer. At this point she had exhausted her treatment options, with the possible exception of Tykerb, which was available only through clinical trials. Becky’s oncologist and Brian had to move quickly to expedite the application for “compassionate use” of Tykerb. Brian spent endless hours completing the complicated application and arranging for Becky to have the necessary testing done. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until a new cardiologist interpreted Becky’s cardiac output on her echocardiogram as 50%. To meet trial criteria, cardiac output had to be “greater than 50%.”

Brian went to the cardiologist, explained the situation and asked him to review the study again, since his report was the only obstacle to her inclusion in the study. The cardiologist refused! What Brian did next illustrates how committed he was to seeing that my sister would not be denied this last opportunity. He went through Becky’s medical records and found a copy of a MUGA heart scan done a few months earlier showing her cardiac output as 52%. These results in hand, Brian returned to the cardiologist, who grudgingly agreed to amend his interpretation of Becky’s echocardiogram. All of this last-minute frantic activity by Brian occurred after work hours in Moultrie, Ga., while Becky was miles away in Gainesville, Fla., anxiously awaiting the verdict in the office of the Tykerb study coordinator. Thanks to Brian, my sister left that office with a bottle of Tykerb in hand and renewed hope.

Unfortunately my sister’s cancer did not respond, and the metastases to the liver and sternum progressed. Two weeks before Thanksgiving, Becky decided to go on medical disability, hoping to have some quality time over the holidays with her two daughters. When she told Brian he said, “Hallelujah — it’s about time, Becky!” I visited her after Thanksgiving, and it was obvious pain management was becoming an issue. When I called Brian, after Becky had an especially rough night, he asked whether Becky was ready to consider hospice. I turned to my sister and said Brian suggested we consider getting hospice involved. She nodded, and Brian said he would contact them immediately. The hospice nurse was at the house two hours later!

Brian continued to visit my sister about once a week, and her face would light up in the biggest smile when he arrived. We all felt like he was family by then. When my sister died peacefully at home on January 20th, Brian was one of the first people called, and the family agreed to have him do one of the readings at Becky’s memorial service. It has now been several weeks since Becky’s death, and my sister’s best friend told me Brian had called to check on her and my nieces, just to see how they were doing. My sister always said she would not wish cancer on anybody, but she never regretted meeting so many wonderful people she would never have met otherwise. Of all these wonderful people, Brian stands head and shoulders above the rest.

For a list of Extraordinary Healer nominees, and to read other finalists’ essays, see CURE’s Summer issue at www.curetoday.com.