9/18/2024
I think I found a middle age crisis. It came early to me. Or maybe not. After 20 years of nursing career as a registered nurse, I came to the conclusion that I don’t have anything left in me. I feel burned out. Maybe that’s the problem. Or maybe seeing what is going on with the people and the healthcare and losing the vision and mission and all sense that pushes all to be on that path and do what we felt doing. There was a vision, sense of mission, energy, and aspiration, but they were all gone.
Right after high school, I went to college to study to become a registered nurse. It wasn’t easy for me because I didn’t come from a family involved in medicine. But I studied for the tests; I dedicated myself to learning with a mission to help others. I got accepted into the nursing program when others didn’t. There, in the program, I learned that I don’t have any compassion for adults, the fat or skinny, self-destructive people who look for different ways to ruin themselves.
They ate either too much or too little, they got drunk or used drugs, and those who didn’t get drunk or on drugs either did something completely unsafe or actively tried to commit suicide. At that time, I learned about two options: leave the nursing program or switch to pediatrics, which I loved and felt compassion for. No matter what happened to the children, they were never at fault. They had to rely on their parents or lack of them. I learned joy in caring for children, and I’ve met some great patients and wonderful families.
I’ve met some weird people and strange families. That’s where I was able to observe people, the diverse culture in America, the subcultures, and the ideas about families and life. And then, I floated to other departments like post-partum and neonatal intensive care and learned more about people there.
Here is what I remember from those days. I remember an 8-year-old girl who was admitted to us for constipation. I was her nurse and took care of her. She was initially shy and had to drink a fluid that would eventually soften all the hard rock-like poop and cause diarrhea to clean her up. She was staying by herself because she was in the state’s custody. I asked her what made her so constipated, if she skipped the bathroom, or if something happened. Sometimes little children have a fear of toilets or flushing toilets.
She said that she was living with her grandmother, and her grandfather was touching her private parts and doing things for her. She thought he wouldn’t do it if she didn’t go to the bathroom and stayed dirty, but he continued. Until she started having horrible stomach pains and was taken to see a doctor. From the doctor, she ended up being taken by Child Protective Services and couldn’t return to her grandmother anymore.
Maybe because I was 22 years old and a brand new nurse at that time, but that shocked me. I told her that things like that are not normal, and I’m proud of her that she was able to escape sexual abuse. The little girl told me that though she missed her grandmother, she was happy to be in a hospital.
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