Dawn Thompson

Offering care at worst time

NWA Democrat-Gazette/BEN GOFF @NWABENGOFF "The role Dawn is fulfilling is something that the state of Arkansas has never done." -- Natalie Tibbs, Executive Director, Children's Advocacy Center of Benton County
NWA Democrat-Gazette/BEN GOFF @NWABENGOFF "The role Dawn is fulfilling is something that the state of Arkansas has never done." -- Natalie Tibbs, Executive Director, Children's Advocacy Center of Benton County

Dawn Thompson has never taken the easy way out. The advanced practice nurse has almost 20 years of experience in her field, and most -- if not all -- of those years have been in high-stress, high-need situations. Today, she's the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner (SANE) coordinator for Northwest Arkansas, a newly created position that has the potential to revolutionize the way that organizations in the state support victims of sexual assault, but from the beginning of her career, Thompson has never shied away from difficult jobs others might find too emotionally taxing. Her mother still remembers a poignant moment from her very first position, on the pediatric oncology floor at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.

"She was working the night shift at her first job," remembers Annesa Thompson. "She got home at about 7 a.m., climbed into bed with me, and told me that her first patient had passed away. She cried, and I cried, but even within that, I could see that she had a passion for this job."

Through Others’ Eyes

“Her colleagues have said to me, ‘Your daughter is going to make a real difference in this world.’” — Annesa Thompson

“It’s never been about her — it’s not about climbing a ladder. I’ve never sensed that it’s about prestige and titles and personal career development to achieve high things. It’s always been about, ‘What more can I do to help? What do you need, and where can I fill that gap with the skill sets and experience that I have?’” — Natalie Tibbs

“She’s extremely reliable. She’s very direct, and that can really help. Her past experience is vital — sometimes we might say, ‘Do we need this medical?’ and she’s able to say, ‘Here are the reasons we do, and let’s get this done.’ She’s very equipped and very knowledgeable.” — Elizabeth Shackleford

Next Week

Todd Smith

Little Rock

"Dawn is tough," says Natalie Tibbs, executive director of the Children's Advocacy Center of Benton County, one of the four nonprofit organizations that collaborate on Dawn's SANE position (the others being Mercy Hospital, the Northwest Arkansas Center for Sexual Assault and the Children's Safety Center of Washington County). "I don't want that to come across as tough as in a 'tough exterior,' or someone that's rude or invincible. Dawn has an incredible heart of service. That's the nursing part of her, wanting to care for and nurture. But Dawn is also a leader."

It takes a certain toughness to work in the arena Thompson, Tibbs and the rest of their colleagues have chosen. Supporting victims of sexual assault means you spend your days witnessing the pain that is the aftermath of the worst of human behavior. As regional coordinator, Thompson serves as a kind of medical liaison, assisting executive directors who lack medical backgrounds in the navigation of complex medical situations. In addition to helping to coordinate the scheduling and training of the SANE nurses who work with the four collaborating organizations, Thompson fills in as a SANE herself -- so in addition to her considerable administrative duties, she must be on call anywhere from two to four days a week, ready to employ her nursing skills under the most harrowing and emotional conditions imaginable.

"Dawn is creating quality control and leadership and management of a component that we just didn't have before," says Tibbs.

Born to lead, serve

It's a lot, but it's certainly not too much for Thompson. Bright-eyed and personable, she still looks like the star cheerleader she was in high school. Have a conversation with her, though, and the steel that carries her through difficult work situations with her smile intact becomes apparent.

Thompson is from Marked Tree, a town of about 2,800 people in northeastern Arkansas. It's still a town without a stoplight. The first fast food restaurant -- a McDonald's -- didn't appear until Thompson's senior year in high school. Shopping and entertainment were around a half-hour away in Jonesboro.

Did she chafe at or love this small-town childhood?

"A little of both, I think," says Thompson. "Our entertainment was a lot different than what my children have. So, I think, at the time, we all felt a little bored, because we didn't have anything to do. But I can say, looking back on it, I wish my kids had more of that and less of what they have now."

Education was important in the Thompson household: Both of her parents were educators, and good grades were expected. Thompson did not disappoint -- she made all As from fourth grade on and was valedictorian of her class. She also graduated cum laude from her undergraduate program and had 4.0 grade point averages for both her master's and doctorate degrees.

"[Her father and I] could see that it just all came so effortlessly to her, and so to allow her to do less than that, we felt, was a disadvantage to her," notes Annesa.

But it wasn't all about academics: Thompson proved herself a well-rounded student by becoming an All-State cheerleader. She also started the school's first softball team to give young women more opportunities to participate in athletics. And, says Thompson, she was expected to work part time, spending a chunk of her senior year manning the McDonald's drive-in window from 5 a.m. until 1 pm. every Saturday and Sunday.

Thompson's mother's background was in the sciences, and she was keen to see her daughter do something in the medical field. Thompson watched two aunts -- both nurses -- work as she grew up, and she was inspired to follow in their footsteps.

"[My aunts] really seemed to have a great work-life balance, where they still got to care for others -- be a part of some of the best times and some of the worst times -- but also be very family-oriented. It was never one or the other, it was never career over children," she says. "I just felt like it was a good balance for me. I like to talk a lot, and I felt like they had a lot of interaction with their patients. They were just very caring and very patient-oriented."

She attended the University of Arkansas for her undergraduate degree, followed by nursing school at Baptist Nursing School in Memphis. One of the aunts who had been the inspiration for the career choice worked at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Memphis, and Thompson had set her sights on working there, as well.

Eye-opening experience

Thompson says those first years of nursing were eye-opening.

"I worked the night shift, [which is] a little different than day shift, when you're doing clinicals and stuff," she says. "[I was surprised at] how autonomous it really was. How many decisions that were made in the moment. You consulted with your physicians and other providers, but there are so many situations that you had to react to right then, that weren't so laid out there for you.

"I just think the more you practice, the more you become competent in your own skills and your own self. You still occasionally second guess. 'Did I do that right? Did I say that right? Did I do the right thing?' But, you know, that's just part of what we do. We go over and over our decisions, making sure we did the right thing."

When she had her first child, she headed a little bit closer to home, moving back to Jonesboro to work in labor and delivery at the hospital while she worked on her master's degree.

"They're, surprisingly, sort of similar," she says of the juxtaposition of her first two career moves. "When it's good, it's really great, but when it's really bad, it's devastating. The same would be true of St. Jude. You had the days when the kids were done with chemotherapy, and then you would have days when there would be kids coming back. Same in labor and delivery: Everybody's waiting for this, and [either] it's great, or, you know, tragedy strikes."

While in Jonesboro, Thompson would eventually take on a teaching role at Arkansas State University. It was during this period of her life that she was approached about starting the medical component of the Northeast Child Advocacy Center.

"I didn't even know what a child advocacy center was," she says. "I had no idea. So I went in and spoke with them, and they explained what they did, which was nothing that I had ever done. And, looking back, I probably did see some kids that had gone through that trauma, but I didn't realize it."

This was Thompson's first introduction to Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners. These specialized nursing professionals, explains Thompson, train in a very specific manner in order to work with those who have experienced sexual assault.

"In regular nursing school, you get the basics on all of the disease processes and care and basics of nursing," she says. "With SANE, there are certain special tasks that you learn. For example, how to get a medical forensic history, which is a little bit different than just a basic medical history. You also pull in a little bit of the forensic aspects of it, being able to collect evidence based on that medical history and using the most up-to-date techniques that are recommended by the crime lab for cases where there is the possibility of obtaining DNA or other types of evidence. We also do forensic photography, [so] we also learn how to utilize certain equipment that in nursing school you typically don't get access to.

"The other part that I think is important is being able to coordinate care with other teams, which to me was eye opening," she continues. "Learning the role of a prosecutor in law enforcement and DHS and the state police and how we can all work together. SANE training opens your eyes to other disciplines and helps you to be able to come to that common goal of doing what's best for that client."

Thompson served as the medical director and a SANE at the Northeast Child Advocacy Center, which covered nine counties around the Jonesboro area. When the NECAC initially hired her for the job, they estimated that she would be seeing one or two cases of sexual abuse a month, so Thompson held on to her teaching job at Arkansas State University. But it didn't take her long to realize that estimate was way off the mark.

"We saw 116 cases that first year," she says. "Up to that point, they didn't have the medical component at all, so all children were being sent to Little Rock and [Arkansas] Children's Hospital or Le Bonheur Children's Hospital in Memphis. They didn't realize the extent of how necessary this would be."

The number of cases increased each year she was there, which, as Thompson points out, indicates how necessary more localized service for this kind of sensitive, high-priority health care can be. It wasn't that the number of sexual assaults was actually increasing -- rather, the survivors were seeking services because it was locally available for the first time.

"It was very rural around there, and so to get [patients] to Little Rock or Memphis was almost impossible," says Thompson. "Being from a small town, I understood that no one wants to drive that far, and I also understood how intimidating it can be. So I think it opened a lot of doors to access of care once we got that established."

The job turned out to be all-encompassing. Thompson quit her teaching job to focus entirely on her duties at the NECAC, and she was on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

"I was the only examiner," she says. "The next closest one to me would be the Searcy SANE. I was very lonely, very, very busy and very overwhelming. I can recall sitting on the beach and talking to a prosecutor one time because I was the only [nurse on call]. Trying to coordinate care for when I [was on] leave was very overwhelming and made me realize how necessary it is to have a team of people and others to help."

The need for collaboration and streamlining of processes was something she started talking about with Tibbs.

"She was seeing a gap on her side of the state, and I was on the other side of the state, seeing these trends statewide," says Tibbs. "We said, 'We have to dream bigger.' I shared that my dream was to see a statewide coordinator, and she said, 'Let's do it."

Spreading the word

The statewide role was difficult to fund, but they didn't give up -- they decided to start with something on a smaller scale; a regional coordinator.

"I started working on relationships in the area, one of which was Mercy, and with their passion to serve women and children, this fell right in line with their mission," says Tibbs. "It wasn't an easy route, but they believed in it as much as we did."

So far, the organizations benefiting from Thompson's work are giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"It has been life changing for our organization," says Elizabeth Shackleford, executive director of the Children's Safety Center of Washington County. "It's wonderful having someone oversee several nurses. She handles the on-call schedule, so we know someone is always on call. She is familiar with child abuse investigations and, as a SANE herself, it helps to be able to lead the other nurses and provide trainings as necessary."

"The role Dawn is fulfilling is something that the state of Arkansas has never done before," notes Tibbs. "Other states have, and that's how we got the idea. In some ways, Arkansas is just behind on victim services, and this is a huge step toward innovation and better serving our community."

Thompson is confident and optimistic about her team. Four new SANE professionals were recently hired. She's hopeful that, as more outreach in the area of sexual assault education is attempted, medical access for children and adults experiencing sexual trauma will increase.

"[Local organizations are] getting into the schools and getting into different community groups and letting them know that this is here, and this is real," says Thompson. "And our governor's wife, this has been her platform, and I think that's really helped us get the word out statewide.

"I think we're becoming more open [to discussing it]. I know I'm more open and up front, talking about certain subjects like this with my children, than I think my parents were. I think not being afraid to talk about it, and not dismissing it as 'Oh, that doesn't happen here' is what we need to do. Because it does happen -- everywhere. I've seen it in all corners of the state from every race, ethnicity, religious background and financial status. No one is immune."

That Thompson confronts a reality that is difficult for others to face comes as no surprise to her mother. She says Thompson has been doing that since the beginning of her career.

"She was working in obstetrics, and a newborn had passed away," remembers Annesa. "Dawn was given the duty to dress the baby and to take her to the parents so they could spend a few cherished moments with the child -- a task that many would have dreaded, she felt quite honored to have. She told how she cried as she dressed her, but she wanted her to look perfect for the family, so she took great care in combing her hair and putting the clothes the parents had brought on her. After she finished dressing her, she dried her tears because she didn't want to be crying as she gave her to the parents -- she wanted the focus to be on the baby and how sweet she looked in her clothes. She saw that task as being the last way she could serve the parents and honor the baby.

"She has great empathy for people, and takes such pride in her role to serve."

NAN Profiles on 12/09/2018

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