It's been real

A couple of years ago at work, I was not not laboring over dressing changes or IVs, I will leave that to the medical people, but crafting necklaces with a young female patient with large fake breasts who when not hospitalized was a hooker. As I sat there happily stringing beads and chatting I realized - Mother would not want me to play with this type of girl. In fact, Mother, knowing some of the disgusting duties that would be mine, was not proud or pleased when I told her I was going to be a nurse. Even more she was not too keen on my working at all - ever! In her Southern fantasies her only daughter was eternally thin and fashionable and perhaps more than a little shallow. I can't say I didn't try, but in my thirties when poverty struck, life sent me down a different path, one that led straight to the outstretched arms of the nursing profession. Her worst fears realized. I understand now, but I wonder what kind of insensitive clod I may have become without this career. After the first shocking year, my naive self took right to being a psych nurse, and I have never viewed life the same since. I appreciate all the patients and co-workers who have taught me, who have stretched the limits of my life experiences, and sharpened my character.