An Army vet believes Penn saved his life. So he became a nurse there.

At Penn Presbyterian Medical Center, operating room nurse Chris Naimo shares insider tips to help patients recover.

For instance, he tells those undergoing abdominal surgery that hugging a pillow can help with painful coughs and sneezes. And to stock up on extra abdominal binders before leaving the hospital, which wrap around the stomach and prevent clothing catching on surgical staples. Having more than one means patients can swap them out when one gets dirty.

How does Naimo, 39, know this? Because he was a surgical patient at Penn, too.

After joining the Army and completing two deployments to Iraq, Naimo found work as an insurance fraud investigator in the Philadelphia area. Then, at 34, he learned he had testicular cancer.

Treatment was grueling. Besides chemotherapy, he also experienced acute congestive heart failure, blood clots in both lungs, abdominal surgery to remove his lymph nodes, and several hospitalizations.

When he was declared cancer-free in July 2021, he felt like he had been given a “second chance at life,” and wanted to do the same for others. So he enrolled in nursing school.

Naimo, who lives in Horsham, didn’t just want to be a nurse. He wanted to be a nurse at Penn.

“I feel that I probably wouldn’t be here on Earth if I didn’t go to Penn,” he said. He credits his doctors with not only diagnosing his cancer when it was still treatable, but also handling all the significant, unlikely complications he faced. He knew he wanted to do the same. “I can hopefully give at least one person that second chance at life.”

He enrolled in the part-time, evening nursing program at Holy Family University. When he completed his degree in October 2023, there was only one place he applied: Penn. If it didn’t work out, he planned to apply elsewhere, but then Penn made him an offer. “I was elated,” Naimo said.

He chose surgery because he liked the hands-on gratification of it, whether it’s seeing the heart beat more easily after replacing a mitral valve, or watching blood flow improve after clearing out an artery.

One year into his career as a nurse, Naimo suspects he’s worked in the operating room where he had his own surgery, but it didn’t fully register. “I don’t really think about it,” he said.

He has plenty of other happy thoughts to dwell on. In September 2022, his son was born. In June 2024, he completed his first 100-mile bike ride for the American Cancer Society.

Still, Naimo brings a lot of his patient experience to his work. Recently, he asked a man who was about to undergo surgery how he was doing.

“‘I’m starving,’” the patient told him.

Naimo asked the last time he had eaten; two days ago, the patient said. He had to be on a liquid diet, so he only drank water for two days.

“I told him that, you know, I had significant abdominal surgery. I used to be in your shoes as well,” Naimo said.

He remembered his experience preparing for surgery, and told the patient that he could try more filling options, such as chicken broth and some hard candies and popsicles. “He goes, ‘Wow, that’s going to really help in six months when I have to do this again.’”

Naimo tells his patients to be “proactive” with their care — ask questions, and request handouts with extra information. Bring someone with you to every appointment, in case they catch something you miss. Find people who had the same experience, whether it’s chemotherapy or a specific type of surgery, and ask them for advice.

He also reminds his patients that pain after surgery isn’t all bad, because it alerts you to what you’re not ready to do yet, and forces you to rest.

Naimo doesn’t tell all of his patients that he had cancer — many are often under anesthesia — but when he does get some bedside moments, he’ll “read the room” to see if they might benefit from hearing his story.

If patients seem overly anxious, and a couple of lighthearted quips don’t work, Naimo might talk about his own experience.

His cancer journey was grueling, he’ll say, but it got him where he is today: a great life, and a rewarding career. “I tell them that I’m the healthiest that I’ve ever been, in the best shape I’ve ever been. I’m just overly happy because I accomplished this.”

And he’ll give them perhaps the most important advice he has as a former patient facing a deadly disease: “Don’t let this define you. Let you define it.”