Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!
Keeping the light on for you,
Carol
My daughter, a burgeoning nursing student, recently asked me, “If you had to do it over again, would you still be a nurse?” I thought for a moment and responded affirmatively, that it was, quite simply, what I felt I was meant to do. A nod of satisfaction was her relieved response that she too had made the right vocational choice. Having watched her compassionately look after aging grandparents, I too am convinced the torch has been passed.
Seeing her embark into the world of healthcare prompts my own reflections on a career well-chosen. A bedside has been my second home for the past 37 years. It has been an arena of constant dichotomy: humor and heartache, wonder and frustration, calm and sheer terror. The fact that I keep returning transcends any paycheck; it is a testament to my character, fortitude, and curiosity.
The sense of duty to willingly help others at their worst does not come on a whim. It starts as a fraction of one’s DNA that trickles into their character and finally floods their personal conviction. While empathy can indeed be nurtured, nature often selectively plants the seed.
The hallmark of the profession is unrelenting advocacy while routinely working in less than desirable situations. From hysterical to heart-wrenching, life tosses some definite surprises into the pot. And not just for the patients. Temperaments of both patients under duress and providers season this healthcare soup, the flavor of which may be tweaked by staffing shortages, policy changes, and bed capacities. Choosing compassion and strength is often the best way to handle the heat in the kitchen of these realities.
Some days are grand and others not so much. I have laughed, cried, and prayed with patients. I have been vomited on, swung at, and kept them breathing. I have also held their hands when necessary and addressed the medical hierarchy on their behalf. And yes, I would do it all again if need be.
Healthcare has obviously changed since my graduation in 1984. Charts used to be burdensome tomes whereas data is now available with the click of a mouse or tap of a screen. Medical science has streamlined treatment methods. Robots are now commonplace in surgical techniques. But there is one thing technology cannot do: provide the warmth of human touch. Which is why we will always need nurses at the bedside.
Bearing witness to my “mini-me’s” first weeks of her nursing program has been heartwarming. Feelings of overwhelm? Check. Preferring hands-on skill labs as opposed to pages of reading? Check. Interest in useful knowledge? Check. And always wanting to chase the ambulance to see what’s going on? CHECK!
Helping her study is not only a great review for me, but also a fantastic trip down memory lane. Her procedural skills, verbal articulation, and overall advocacy will mature, and I am grateful to have a front row seat on this journey. Like me, my daughter also covets an advanced practice degree. While I ended up in the field of anesthesia, it will be exciting to see what piques her interest. But regardless of where she lands, she will no doubt offer the sass, wit, and knowledge of those women who briskly walked before.
Nursing happens to be part and parcel of our family history. My great aunt was known to have rushed in, holding her cap in place with a free hand, to any family emergency or birth. My own mother desperately wanted to be a nurse, yet her Victorian father deemed the tuition far too expensive for a girl’s education back in the day. After volunteering at our local hospital, I chose nursing as a profession. My daughter now continues the tradition, and I hope some of her offspring do as well.
Watching my daughter wield her iPad pencil like I brandished my four-color click pen back in the day makes me smile. All too soon she will be trading her nursing assistant role for that of student nurse. And if she stays on course she will graduate 40 years to the month later than I. My only lament is that her newfangled program does not perform pinning or capping ceremonies like years past. While I embrace the contemporary, I would have loved to honor tradition and history, being the “pinner” or helping secure a right-of-passage cap.
Nursing is a necessary and noble career. It offers variety in its clinical settings and opportunities for advancement. But most important, this path offers a hard stare into the human experience at all stages of life, digging deep into the matrix of what defines us.