I’ve had a lot of friends ask me how I got into nursing. I had a lot of friends ask me if I was SURE this is something I wanted to do (as I was not accepted one semester to the BYU nursing program, and then went though 5 semesters of GRUELING nursing school).
It started in High School. I enjoyed science but I didn’t want to be a doctor or a scientist, as I knew my ultimate goal would be motherhood. Nursing seemed like a smart career path, and unlike today, it wasn’t a popular choice for most high school seniors (except in Utah — a TON of friends wanted to be nurses, but dropped out when they realized the requirements at college). I remember a late night talk in which an aunt of mine just asked, “Hilary you don’t really seem like a caring person” (and yes, she may have said it nicer, but it didn’t sound any nicer to my ears) “are you sure this is what you want to do?”
I have learned something in the almost NINE years (can you believe that?) that I have been a nurse. Nursing takes a special kind of caring. You can’t be the type that will break down in tears when you pull a bandaid off your child. I became jaded as I stuck child after child in my first job in a pediatrician’s office. Let’s just say we gave LOTS of shots.
If I wasn’t as strong of a person, I probably wouldn’t have made it through the 3 years that I worked in a nursing home, and then moved on to hospice.
And now, on a daily basis (at least on the days that I work) my caring hand has to take a sharp tone with doctors who perhaps don’t take the patient’s interest as their own. My caring hand has brought life back to babies hearts as their bodies are welcomed to our air-breathing world.
I have learned that caring comes in many forms. Humor, empathy, telling the truth instead of softening it for fear of reactions.
I am so grateful for my job choice and it’s amazing that even though I didn’t, perhaps, fit the mold I sure fit the bill.
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