May 10, 2018
Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. – Jesus
Welcome to one of my favorite weeks of the year: National Nurses Week!
It’s also National Teachers Week, but I don’t mind sharing. We are both called to care for others as our own and work way too hard for way too little appreciation. But this week certainly helps! Tomorrow is also Military Spouse Appreciation Day and, once you add in Mother’s Day on Sunday, this week is basically my Superbowl.
This is my 9th year of nursing, which is hard for me to believe, and it’s been quite a ride. I found my calling early thanks to my grandma’s influence (you can read more about that in an upcoming post). I attended my kindergarten career day dressed as a “nurse for babies.” I remember my mom wanting me to go as a ballerina instead because it meant a cuter costume, but even back then I knew that wasn’t who I was meant to be. And thank God, because there four other girls in my class who showed up in tutus; I’m not that basic.
The only day I have ever cried tears of joy was the day I successfully finished my final nursing school exam. In a dramatic show of relief, appropriate only at a (very) Christian college, I fell to my knees and uttered, “it is finished.” The day I found out I passed the NCLEX (nursing licensure exam), I knew I finally had my key that would open the doors to the life I wanted. Since then I’ve worked in 8 different disciplines in 3 different states. I have seen so much and so little at the same time. The blessing and curse of the nursing profession is that there’s always something new to learn.
I admit this Nurses Week is bittersweet for me given my current work (or lack thereof) situation. Normally I would be celebrating with coworkers at some type of appreciation festivity put on by management. When I worked in Texas they rented a sno-cone truck to park outside our ER; I don’t even like sno-cones, but it was still the best day ever. This year I will make do with the free cinnamon roll that Cinnabon gives out every year. Maybe I’ll wear my scrubs to the mall to pick it up, just to feel like I fit in. Plus, who doesn’t want an elastic waistband after eating Cinnabon?
So to my fellow nurses…
Who wake up before the sun rises and come home after it sets. Who can clean up a harrowing code brown and then go straight to the break room for a fudge brownie. Who have been called every derogatory name in the book (including the N-word, which is never okay, but particularly confusing when you’re as white as they come). Who have stripped naked in the garage because you don’t want to bring your bacteria-covered scrubs into the home where your children live. Who have had relatives text pictures of their rashes (or worse). Who have heard the cries of a mother whose son didn’t make it. Who have saved a life and then two minutes later are yelled at for taking too long to bring a glass of juice. Who have listened for a heartbeat that wasn’t there anymore.
To all of you, I say: I see you, I appreciate, I am you. Thank you to the nurses who have taught me and to those I have had the pleasure to teach. Enjoy your week to its fullest. It’s a tough profession, but we are tougher.
Home is Where 