Why Did You Become a Nurse?

Not that question again!

“Why did you become a nurse?” This is a question I still have to answer on occasion, granted a lot less often since nursing school days. And despite the feeling that I just started yesterday, I have to say it’s going on five years and I guess I’m not a new nurse anymore. These 4 + years have granted me lots of learning opportunities for sure. Some lessons were learned in precious bitter sweet moments and others through blood, sweat, tears, urine, feces, mucous, puss, serousanguinous fluid...ok I’ll stop. My point is I guess I know at least one thing (maybe not quite two) these days. Even with all those fun experiences and my thicker skin there’s always that question that throws me off: “Why did you become a nurse?”

This question is often interchangeable or accompanied by the assuming phrase “You must love your job.” Often times out of politeness or to avoid a deeper upsetting conversation I just nod with a little “mmm hmmm.” The truth (or so I thought) up until recently was always: “No, are you nuts? What about this stressful back breaking job should I be so in love with? Rude people? Long hours? Gross daily tasks? Not being able to eat or go to the bathroom for 12-14 hours? Dying people? Wiping your butt? You must be absolutely out of your mind...in fact I know you are!” As you see, it’s definitely more appropriate to go with my first answer.

Then something happened. Or maybe it was happening all along. I’m not sure, but my 4+ years of having a case of the mondays recently came to a head. All this time I was dwelling on the horrible parts of my job experience. You might say I was a burnt out nurse from the beginning. Whatever it was, bitterness set in somewhere along the way. I felt it coming on. It’s not a good feeling. I was acutely aware of losing myself. I was not the joyful person I started out as. Hope was gone. Everything and everyone annoyed me. And yes, I was just a bit overly dramatic about it all!

Case of the Mondays

Sitting here today, I can say I have an appreciation for my role as a nurse, my co-workers, and even those pesky patients. The things that used to annoy me are the things I might admit to cherishing. What was the magic pill that cured my horrible case of the Mondays, you ask? A horrible Monday of course!

The actual day of the week I don’t recall, but it was a day when all the walls I built up to protect myself from the scary world of nursing came crashing down. It was pretty cliché really (don’t worry, no one died). No it was one of those stupid days where everything goes wrong. I woke up late. I scurried around like a crazy person to make sure I could still get Starbucks, only to arrive to a crazy floor where I had no time for drinking the good stuff. Then I busted my butt all morning with the goal of being able to just sit down and chart with my cup of coffee reheated. By the time the hour arrived it was basically any normal person’s lunch time (not mine...no lunch that day). I shoved the cup of coffee in the microwave and when that happy DING went off I hurried to grab it...but I grabbed too fast...because I sent the cup flying...spilling the precious and SCALDING contents across the counter, myself, the microwave, the floor, probably small children. The housekeeper witnessed it all of course, and with only a little scolding helped me clean it up.

At that moment I spoke a self-fulfilling prophecy over myself (here is your warning to watch what you say): “This day sucks and can’t possibly get better.” I walked away from the pantry muttering curses and feeling dejected. As I predicted, the day only got worse. Nothing was easy. Discharges became hellish nightmares of red tape. Admissions came all too quick and in way too many numbers. And I’m pretty sure whatever pain medicine pharmacy stocked that day was not working because everyone was in pain. Co-workers that normally make my day brighter even annoyed me that day. I felt like if I stopped for one minute I would probably just sit down and cry. My face was red, my eyes were glossy, my temper was short.

Of course that was the exact moment one of my co-workers chose to give me the talk. This person had given me plenty of pep talks in the past (although sometimes they were more like spankings). Usually the pep talk consisted of phrases like:
-“Don’t let them get to you.”
-“You make your own weather.”
-“You don’t smile. You need to smile more.”

Whatever the speech, it was clear they noticed the change in me I was trying so hard to hide. My joy was MIA. On this day, they chose the worse time, when I was busy trying to pass meds so I could get my shift over and flee from the building. I can’t remember the exact words they used, only that they were pin-pointing the root cause of all my angst. Didn’t this person know I did not have time to dwell on important life issues? Didn’t they know I’d been trying for a long time to find my joy?

Apparently, they were clueless, because the talk went on whether I wanted to or not. It is important to note that I consider this person a kindred spirit and we share the same faith. So this speech was not aimed at that present moment, nor was it was it meant to make me perform my duties as a nurse better. It was going straight to my heart and spirit...meant to make me remember the person I was. And as embarrassing as it was the tears just flowed with no end in sight. No matter how many people were walking by I could not stop or hide this emotional outpouring. They were not loud tears. They were quiet tears. With each one, a piece of the giant wall I had built came down; not with a giant boom, but with a quiet disassembling.

At the time I was sort of upset because this person made me admit to feeling weak and powerless again...a feeling I had tried so hard to avoid since my first days as a nurse. Even though I was embarrassed and upset, the act of kindness my friend bestowed upon me initiated a change in me. Later that night as I reflected on the day I realized they gave me the key I’d been searching so hard to find that would lead me back to my joyful self. The key was simply a change in perspective.

I started thinking about why I became a nurse in the first place. I was never one of those people that always knew they would be a nurse. I could never find much about nursing that I appreciated. The glass was definitely half empty. In fact, I’ve spent years telling people “it’s not my passion, but it pays the bills.” It was not a glamorous truth, but still the honest truth. I might have blamed it on my parents, saying I became a nurse because they said I needed a practical job in these unstable times. These were only partial truths though. It took stopping the flow of negativity, a breakdown at work, and the freedom my friend gave me to reflect on the kind of person I want to be to come to the full truth.

“Why did you become a nurse?”

It was a commercial. Yes, a commercial. You know that Johnson and Johnson campaign: “Dare to Care.”? Well that sucker was airing constantly during my college years, when I was looking for a career path that I counted as “something that really matters.” I nixed other career choices if I thought they sounded too self-serving or what I perceived to be money or power-hungry careers. In my mind I could only do something that would mean tons of self-sacrifice and of course helping others. So when the “Dare to Care” campaign came out, I said to myself “sure why not.” I flocked to the all noble profession of NURSING without another thought. Finally something that would meet my criteria for a job that “matters”! Plus it would pay the bills and you get to wear pajamas to work! Who wouldn’t want to be a nurse?

I didn’t know it, but I only had part of the equation right. The desire to help people is fine. The desire to pay your bills...smart. Pajamas...comfortable. The idea that you can only achieve these goals by working in particular job...absurd. I realize now that it doesn’t matter what you do for 40+ hours a week at work. You can have a caring heart and help people every hour of the day no matter where you are or where you work. And on the flip side, being a nurse doesn’t automatically make you Jesus or Mother Theresa either.

I wasn’t able to fully understand my lesson until my co-worker was brave enough to confront me about my careless anger and bitterness. I see now that you are responsible for your actions, your words, your thoughts towards others...no matter what situation you are in. And in my experience, perfect situations are mostly non-existent. We have the opportunity to serve others every single day in life, wherever we go. You can dare to care all the time, no matter what you do for a living.

There is a scripture that comes to mind here:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”-Mark 12:30-31

I have learned that true joy is not dependent on circumstance. It is not something that goes away one day and comes back. Joy is not happiness. If you are working with a joyful heart then you do not need thanks in return. If you give without any expectation of receiving in return then you cannot get upset when no one thanks you for your awesomeness. From a Christian perspective, there is nothing sweeter than giving to someone that cannot pay you back (just like God did for us). And it makes life a lot easier when you start seeing your patients and co-workers not as annoyance, but as the people you are put here to care for.

You can’t feel taken advantage of by someone if you make it a point to give them everything you’ve got. Sometimes the answer is not thicker skin, or giant walls around your heart. You’ve got to stop with the self-preservation already! In the end, you’ll only truly be rewarded if you let down your walls, and give something real from the heart to the person in front of you. It’s not always easy, but it’s those moments that make life...well, LIFE!

A New Perspective

So after all that learning I’m pretty much perfected now and life’s only bluebirds and roses. HA! Just kidding. Don’t worry, I’m still overly dramatic, just with a rediscovered comedy side to balance it out. No one’s perfect, and nursing is still hard work. I realize now that the rude people who used to get to me are probably the ones who just need more love. And those 3 long shifts...are not forever. Plus, I get 4 days off! And I have to admit those gross tasks like wiping of butts and gnarly dressing changes don’t really bother me in the least...in fact it’s sort of the stuff I love doing.

After I stopped looking at all the things I hate about my job I could see the million things I love! I love decorating my floor’s skeleton. I love hearing the stories from my elderly patients (even the confused ones)! I love that I am able to help someone when they can least help themselves. I love my co-workers and all their hijinks and practical jokes. I love that feeling of teamwork when the you-know-what hits the fan. I love being able to just be there for someone when they are all alone. I love being able to make a daunting situation seem less scary by explaining things and teaching my patients. I love teaching new nurses and nursing students “The ropes.” I also love when my patients and students teach me something I didn’t know. Did I mention I still get to wear pajamas (oops, I mean scrubs) to work everyday?

And even though death is still no fun. I know it’s a part of life. I like knowing that I’ve been trained to do everything I can to help in those situations. It helps to know that even though it can be scary and sometimes no matter what you do, you can’t stop it, there will always be an opportunity to be there for the person in need.

“So, why did you become a nurse?”
I dared to care. It wouldn’t be a dare if it were easy.
“You must love your job!”
I’m learning to love it everyday.