Sherri Kannamacher grew up in California, trained as a cardiac nurse, managed a hospital case management department in Terre Haute for 15 years, and never imagined she would end up as a school nurse in a small Illinois town. Then she fell in love with a man who was a Bluestreak through and through — and Martinsville had a way of doing the rest.

Her husband, a former industrial technology teacher at Martinsville High School who now farms and serves on the school board, helped her see the value in a community she might have otherwise passed through. When the district nurse position opened in 2020, the principal reached out. A board member called her husband. Kannamacher prayed about it and applied. "It has been the biggest blessing," she said. "It is absolutely the best decision I made."

She arrived at Martinsville Community Unit School District the same year COVID arrived everywhere else. "If you can make it that year, you should be able to make it through any difficult year," she said. Trial by fire, the nursing world calls it. She made it.

As a district nurse, Kannamacher serves all students across both buildings — mornings at the elementary school, afternoons at the junior-senior high. The two campuses together enroll close to 400 students, and she is the single point of medical coordination for all of them. She manages daily clinic visits for bumps and fevers, but also oversees the care of students with chronic conditions — diabetes, epilepsy, severe allergies, asthma — working alongside parents and healthcare providers to make sure those students are safe and present. Athletes' physicals, state immunization reporting, vision screenings, and hearing screenings all flow through her office. Clinic notes for every student visit go into the district's electronic records system.

What people don't expect is how much her hospital background shapes the work. In cardiac nursing and case management, the job was care coordination — tracking patients, noticing patterns, communicating across a team. School nursing is the same discipline, different setting. "When a kid keeps coming in for the same thing, you reach out to the parent," she said. "Maybe you get a diagnosis. Maybe it's emotional. How do we support that family and that student?" The answer almost always involves more people than just the nurse.

A dental bus visits the school to address gaps in care that might otherwise go unmet. Kannamacher keeps food in her office for students who arrive late and miss breakfast. When a student needs ice for a sprained ankle, they get it. When a student needs to sit down and talk, they can do that too. "Sometimes they need to come in because they need to talk," she said, "and they've forged a relationship with you."

She helped launch a Kindness Club with principal Mrs. Cooper, issuing monthly challenges that ask students to extend kindness beyond the school walls — making cards for nursing home residents, writing notes to community businesses.

She has also built something less visible but potentially life-saving. Working with Superintendent Mr. Robert Waggoner, Kannamacher developed a cardiac emergency response plan for the district. AEDs are positioned at both schools — one at the elementary, and multiple units at the high school covering the gyms and weight room. She teaches CPR to staff, and about 75 percent are currently certified, cycling through on a two-year rotation. "We hope we never have to respond to that kind of emergency," she said, "but if we are prepared, we could save a life."

She knows she is making a difference in small ways that compound over time. There are elementary students now wearing glasses because a vision screening caught what no one else had noticed. Over at the junior-senior high, she hears it when she arrives each afternoon — "Hey, Nurse K" — from students who were not expecting to see her until they realized they were glad she was there.

She has three children who have already graduated from Martinsville, a sophomore currently enrolled, and a son in third grade down the hall. She is not from here, but this place claimed her anyway. "This community envelops you," she said. "And they genuinely care."