Death hasn't stopped the ministry of Carol Hanson (80) 
by Nicole Schiavi (94) 

In a dark hospital room on a rainy day in 1971, a 14-year-old girl is hearing news no one wants to hear:  She has leukemia. 

Years later, Carol Hanson (80) told her family that after the doctor left the room, she felt a hand on her arm, and a man told her, "Think about this: God has allowed this to happen for a reason. So keep your eyes open and live each day to the fullest." 

The diagnosis of the deadly disease was the beginning of a testimony and a ministry that has lasted well beyond Carol Hanson's time on earth. Her valiant struggle with leukemia, her positive attitude, and her compassion for her own patients when she was a nurse were an avenue for many to come to the Lord. More than 10 years after her death, people continue to get saved after hearing her story. 

It is just after 11 p.m. at St. Francis Hospital in Tulsa. Carol Hanson, one of the nurses, clocks out at the end of her eight-hour shift. But instead of going home, she heads for Pediatrics, finds out which children have no family members to stay with them, and spends time talking with and comforting them. She does this on many occasions. (It isn't until after Carol's death that her friends and family find out about her after-hours ministry. They think it was Carol's own experience with a serious disease that filled her with compassion for the sick.) 

More than 10 years after learning of her own disease, Carol is in remission. Now, she is the nurse, with patients of her own. 

Diagnosed with leukemia as a youngster growing up in Chippewa Falls, Wisc., the young Carol focused on her spiritual life. As her love for God and her dependence on Him grew, her family, too, developed a closer relationship with the Lord. 

As Carol grew up, her disease went into remission and her health was good. She decided to go to ORU and pursue a nursing career. In a letter announcing the plan to establish a scholarship in Carol's memory, her parents, Cecil and Pearl Hanson, said that their daughter wanted to be an instrument of God's love and compassion to others who were sick. 

"She felt this need out of her own personal experience with leukemia, which gave her a sensitivity and understanding for the sick," her parents wrote. "Carol also wanted to share with the patients the peace and strength that they might receive as they put their complete trust in the Lord Jesus." 

Kandi (Williams-80) Anderson, Carol's roommate for three years, said that Carol was very prayerful and sensitive, and always had others in mind. 

"There were times when I would joke around and say, 'She's an angel,' but then I'd think, 'What if she really is an angel?'" Anderson said. "When I was sick, she just sat on the bed and rubbed my back and prayed for me and ministered to me. She prayed about everything." 

Anderson, a teacher in the Lamont, Calif., school district, said Carol initiated daily devotions, ministering at a nursing home, and fasting while the two were at ORU. 

"I came across as the loud one, but she was the real spiritual leader in our friendship," she said. 

While at ORU, Carol grew in her faith, made supportive friends, and stayed in remission. She was discreet about her disease. 

"A majority of us never knew," said Robbie (Stayton-80) Kreissler. "She never acted sick. When it started coming out of remission, she didn't act sick." 

After two years at St. Francis, Carol started working at the City of Faith. Six months later, a blood test revealed her disease had advanced into a serious phase. She decided to undergo medical treatment closer to home. She left Tulsa forever. 

Minnesota, 1983. 

Tom Hanson donates some of his bone marrow to his sister. Mary Halbleib, Carol's sister, describes it as "a gift he gave to the whole family," because it extends Carol's life [by two years] and gives all of them more time together. 

The transplant is a painful and difficult procedure, however. When it's over, Carol has a swollen tongue and tremendous pain as she recovers in the hospital. 

But Carol keeps smiling. 

Nurses and doctors ask her how she can be so positive after all she has gone through. She points to a plaque at the foot of her bed that she looks to for inspiration. 

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13. 

"She was totally focused on the Lord," said Mary Halbleib. 

While in the hospital, Carol made a lasting impression on the medical staff. Several nurses and doctors came to know the Lord for the first time, or began to seek a deeper understanding of Him. 

"Her attitude and her smile, people questioned," Halbleib said. "That led to her being able to tell people about the Lord." 

Halbleib, who works at an investment bank in West Bend, Wisc., said her sister was an inspiration to the hospital staff and people who visited her. Her attitude opened up many opportunities for Carol to share her faith and lead people to the Lord. 

Carol spent a year in the hospital--a year plagued with complications from the bone marrow transplant. Her friend Kandi Anderson would call from California to talk. She said she found out later that while Carol was in the hospital, she wrote in her diary that she was experiencing incredible pain from chemotherapy. 

"She wrote, 'I'm so sore, I just want to blow my mouth off,'" Anderson said. "But she never told me." 

"Rather than depend on others for support and encouragement during this time," said Diane (Doty-80) Murphy, "Carol became a stronghold for others. A close friend of Carol's said that she experienced a renewed sense of peace and hope whenever she was in Carol's presence." 

Robbie Kreissler, who lives in Euless, Tex., and works at Baylor University Medical Center, said she and Carol talked a lot about the transplant process. 

"She was always very hopeful, always very positive," she said. "We talked about how things might go. Being a nurse, she knew how it was." 

Carol's condition improves enough for her to go home. She spends nine months with her family in Wisconsin before a fungal infection takes hold in her lungs. Doctors tell her family that medicine could stop the fungus, but it also might stop her kidneys. 

They decide to try the medicine, hoping it will sustain her life. But her kidneys fail. 

Back in a Minnesota hospital, Carol's breathing is being sustained by a respirator. It's a little more than nine months after the bone marrow transplant. She cannot speak. Family members surrounding her bed have been told she does not have long to live. 

But Carol still smiles. 

Carol died May 15, 1984, at the age of 27, succumbing to bronchitis that her weakened immune system could not fight off. 

People came from near and far to say goodbye to Carol. The viewing room at the funeral home was filled to capacity both days. Carol's sister recalls the throngs of people--some that the family did not even know, some lifelong friends, and some who, though they met Carol only once, were forever changed by her. About a dozen ORU alumni, many of them nursing majors, were also there. 

"At the funeral, we just kept going through her Bible," Robbie Kreissler said. "She had written so much, the thing was almost worn out. You could really just sort of tell where she was by the different scriptures underlined and the notes she had taken." 

A year after Carol's death, one of her nurses went to see Carol's parents and told them how Carol's attitude had touched her life. A teenager who came to a Bible study at Mary Halbleib's home years after Carol died, heard her testimony and got saved. 

"I think it's amazing," Halbleib said, "that Carol's life keeps affecting people even after she has died." 

Even at ORU, the touching testimony of Carol's life and death continues to have an impact. About a year after Carol died, her friend Diane Murphy established the Carol Hanson Memorial Scholarship Fund to honor the life of a nurse who had a gift for comforting others. 

"She was very encouraging and very compassionate," Murphy said. "She did really try to work with the spiritual side of the person. She was totally unmarked by her insecure and unstable future." 

In a letter she sent to fellow alumni, Murphy explained that the scholarship would not be given to a student strictly because of a good academic record, but because the student felt called by God to minister to people as a nurse. 

"I believe that Carol viewed nursing as God's avenue for bringing to others Christ's love, peace, and healing presence," she wrote. 

Kandi Anderson said that after a stressful day, she dreams about Carol. She remembers their fun days at ORU and the lessons she learned from watching Carol's sweet life and painful death. 

"When she was in the hospital, I used to call her to cheer her up," Anderson said. "When we were done, I said, 'I called to talk to you and cheer you up. All we've done is talk about me, and you cheered me up.' But that was the norm." 

That was Carol Hanson. 

Note: If you would like to contribute to the Carol Hanson Memorial Scholarship Fund, please contact Dr. Kenda Jezek, dean of the Anna Vaughn School of Nursing.