Julie, of A Little Pregnant, wrote a really touching post the other day in celebration of National Nurses Week. Essentially, she thanked nurses who, in ways large and small, helped her through tough times.
It's a lovely idea and one I am stealing. My grandmother was a nurse, part of the first graduating class of a hospital in Ohio (back then, around 1930, it wasn't a degree, the hospitals trained their nurses). I've seen her graduating-class photo, turned to sepia now, her looking so serious and brave with her white cap atop her finger-waved hair. Her oldest daughter, my aunt, also became a nurse. And two of my sisters in law, Paul's brother's wife and my brother's wife, are nurses. I have an enormous amount of respect for the hard work and compassion these people undertake to provide every day. I read the Sue Barton and Cherry Ames series as a girl and, I am embarrassed to admit, ate them up.
So, here are my personal Nurses Who Rule:
Chris, the businesslike, warm, and wonderful nurse at the IVF Mill From Hell. I hated that place, but she was the only person who made me feel like an actual human being with rights, not a statistic. She was always kind and optimistic and didn't even laugh when I drove 30 minutes so she could administer an HcG trigger shot instead of having to do it myself (HUGE wussy about needles).
Every nurse at my OB-GYN's office. Especially: Summer, the nurse I jabbered away to when my mega surprise pregnancy was confirmed. She listened to our situation and calmly got me in for a quick second beta, doctor visit and ultrasound as if this kind of stuff happened there every day. Karen, who was just wonderful from start to finish. At my two-week checkup, she listened while I cried about how hard a time I was having. Her response was that it was absolutely normal to love my baby while grieving my old life, and two weeks was absolutely NOT enough time to be adjusted. But, why didn't she load me up with Zoloft samples just in case? I needed that so much right then, when everyone around me expected just blissful happiness.
All the nurses I dealt with during the scary hours I was in labor. Their calm about her heartrate dropping went such a long way toward keeping me from freaking right out worse than I was. Trudy, the nurse who was with me during the C-section, told me that I should never ever feel bad about having a C-section, that it was the right thing to do. Made me feel a hell of a lot better when the earthy-birthies bust out the self-righteousness.
Julie, at my primary care doctor's office. The doctor sucks, and she runs lots of interference so I don't have to deal.
The young student nurses who volunteer during our church homeless shelter week. I've gotten to work with them a few times and they are so kind, personable and unfazed. I know they'll make great nurses when they finish school.
Thanks, nurses. You were there for me during some of the scariest times of my life, and I'll remember it forever.