Editor’s note: For nearly two centuries, Roper Hospital has been shaped by teammates whose dedication has carried its legacy forward. To honor the longtime caregivers who helped define its culture and excellence, we’re sharing stories from those who have devoted 45 years or more to this hospital and the health system as a whole.
We’re proud to spotlight Sandy Grace, Stem Cell Lab Coordinator, whose 47-year career has spanned eras of scientific change, natural disaster, deep professional partnerships and the kind of quiet leadership that defines a legacy.
Q: How did your healthcare career begin—and what made you stay?
Both of my parents were medical technologists, and I thought they had the coolest jobs in the world. I never wanted to do anything else.
When I graduated and began interviewing for lab positions in Charleston, every employer offered me a job. But when I interviewed at Bon Secours St. Francis Hospital —flu and all—the person interviewing me handed me juice and a blanket and told me to rest as long as I needed.
That kindness made my decision for me.
I started in the Bon Secours St. Francis Hospital lab and, after the health systems merged, I moved throughout hematology, chemistry and microbiology. Microbiology became home. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m really good at micro—and I love it.
About seven years ago, the stem cell lab coordinator role opened. I wanted to challenge myself to learn something new and use my brain differently.
It also has been very rewarding in that I get to see the good that I do. I’m also quite proud of being a person who gets to see what nurses do and proud that I can tell nurses what lab does. I love the way our hospitals take care of nurses. I know they may feel a pinch, but they are deeply admired.
Q: What do you remember about your first year?
How much I didn’t know about medicine. When you’re just starting like that, you don’t know medicine even though you think you do. One of my greatest joys in life has been working with pathologists because they taught me medicine.
Q: Is there an experience that has stayed with you over four decades?
Hurricane Hugo. We were at Rutledge Tower when St. Francis was there. We were there for five days. There were fish and shrimp in the couches on the first floor. The water line was over my head. You could feel the windows breaking (during the storm) because the pressure would pop on your skin.
We had to move the lab upstairs, we couldn’t go home and we didn’t have food. It was so scary. But we learned a lot: how to be a hospital in a hurricane.
Q: What advice do you have for first-year teammates?
Know that everybody’s job is important.
When I first decided to be a lab tech, my mom sat me down and told me that every single job is important to the institution. She said nobody is better than anybody else. That stuck with me. You are a part of a cog that has to turn. If I wanted anybody to know anything about working in a hospital, that would be it.
Don’t come here if this is just your paycheck. Don’t think you’re the best thing that ever came out of school because you will be humbled. Like Socrates said, “I know what I don’t know.”
Lastly, what you do is so valuable. Sometimes when you’re working in the lab, you don’t necessarily see that. I wish everybody understood just how valuable their work is.
Q: What aspects of your work have changed the most?
Technology. When I started, we didn’t have computers. Everything was handwritten and hand-delivered to units.
In the emergency room, if we didn’t know what was wrong with a patient, we had to draw a lot of blood to test for everything. Now, you can do it with one tube.
Machines today can replicate viruses to the billions, something it would take a person over 11 years to count. It feels like science fiction, but it’s real.
Q: Have any teammates or patients had a lasting impact on your life?
My microbiology family. I worked with them through marriages, babies, challenges and celebrations. They made me a better person and a better tech.
I’ve worked under brilliance—every pathologist I’ve known. I’ve watched clinical teams collaborate in ways that remind you what healthcare is supposed to be.
And two years ago, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I realized just how lucky I am to work here. I had Oncologist Dr. George F. Geils on speed dial, and Dr. Megan Baker, the best breast surgeon on the planet. My experience was so different from what many cancer patients face, and I don’t take that for granted. How lucky am I?
Q: Reflecting on 47 years, what does Roper Hospital’s legacy mean to you?
While I’m proud of the work I’ve done, I am just another person. What I take with me are the friendships and the knowledge shared by everyone who helped me do my job: engineering, biomed, environmental services, the teammates who order my supplies, the teammates who deliver them.
My job has always been to give physicians what they need to make people better—but I could only do that because so many others supported me.
It should go without saying how much Roper Hospital and Roper St. Francis Healthcare mean to me, the lab and the bone marrow transplant family are my safe places.
Listening each morning as our physicians, pharmacists, dietitians and nurses discussed every BMT patient—their medicines, their vitals, how they were feeling—taught me more than I can ever measure.
In private moments, that’s the legacy for which I am most proud: that I have spent my career among people who are brilliant, compassionate and deeply committed to healing. I am proud to stand in their shadows.
Q: Is there anything else you’d like readers to know?
Healthcare is tough, but if you love it, you know you’re helping someone—even when no one sees it. Our patients don’t heal without you. You may not always get an “attaboy,” but you are saving lives.
Not many people get to say that.