Stories

Six months after the passing of our dear colleague Pierre (✝23-03-2025), we share one of his many reflections as a tribute. At the heart of Street Nurses’ work, Pierre embodied both professional dedication and deep humanity. His words still resonate within us.

Since joining Street Nurses in October 2024, I've had the chance to dive into several highly enriching training and refresher courses. However, the one having the greatest impact on me, was one I took during my internship in 2023, which focused on working with people with schizophrenia. An experience that profoundly transformed my understanding of this complex reality. So much so that, to this day, it still influences the way I support patients in housing.

Moments of well-being with our patients, whether they live on the street or are housed, often begin with simple gestures: sitting down, sharing a coffee, enjoying a meal. These seemingly ordinary moments are actually essential. They build trust, create space for conversation, and often allow us to see our patients in a new light. In these everyday pauses, some find the confidence to open up and share part of their personal story.

March 2024 was the month when Mr. A. finally moved into his home. After years of moving between the street and shelters, he finally had a roof over his head. But that day, he held more than just a key, he held hope. And behind that hope, a silent dream: to return to his homeland and see his mother again, after so many years apart.

Because sometimes, everything can shift — for the better. Today, we’re out on outreach. Our goal: to find Ms. T., a patient who disappeared from the hospital a few days ago. Worry is growing, so we comb through Brussels, neighborhood by neighborhood. We decide to stop by La Fontaine (a hygiene center) — maybe someone there has seen her recently?

Il y a quelques semaines, j’ai proposé pour la première fois une séance de shiatsu à l’un de nos patients relogé, Monsieur Y. Ce soin énergétique, issu de la médecine traditionnelle japonaise, a pour but de rétablir l’équilibre du corps en stimulant les points d’énergie à travers le toucher. Pour Monsieur Y, c'était une grande première.

A few months ago, we lost Pierre Ryckmans, our coordinating doctor. Since his passing, memories have resurfaced, and some moments have left a deeper impression than others.

Why talk about meritocracy and homelessness? I’d like to share a few reflections on a topic that’s close to my heart: how our way of thinking about success and failure shapes the way we see – and the way people experiencing homelessness see themselves.

Mr S. has been living in accommodation since 2020, and everything is going well. He has many interests and resources: he is multilingual, a film buff, a lover of theatre, nature, reading and geopolitics. The support is going smoothly and he never ceases to enrich us with his knowledge. However, at the end of 2023, following several medical examinations, Mr. announces some bad news: he has been diagnosed with cancer. He is quickly put on a urinary catheter and begins outpatient chemotherapy. He shows resilience and gradually adapts to these life changes.

In Liège, we tend to favour soft mobility over cars. And yet, we have to admit that in our daily work, cars are often indispensable.

Mr. M. is in his fifties and has been living on the streets for more than 10 years. He is in good physical shape. At the last blood test, his doctor only noted a small vitamin D deficiency, which is not surprising in Belgium.

Mr. T. lives in a park in Liège. We have been following him since 2021. He has transformed his tent camp, located in the middle of a small wooded area, into a true defensive post. Branches and pieces of wood protect him and his camp from intruders.