Dreams of my father & mother

This is funny... because as far back as I can remember, my Dad (I am sure this started when I was fairly little) would ask me the question, "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" I would answer like a robot drone..."a doctor" and he would respond aptly in the affirmative and this was the little game we would play until I actually got a job as a high junior at the local ice cream parlour. The dream completely dashed forever, Dad stopped playing the game and I jumped into the teenage mode of doing whatever I (%^&*well) pleased. That was the story of my teenage years except...one particular month, after scooping perfectly weighed (yeah right) 4 oz. scoops of Mr. Mikus' special blend of Swensen's ice cream, a new girl started at the ice cream parlour (she had this crazy big 70's/80's hair) and she told me about a job she had as a certified nurses' aide working part-time at the local convalescent hospital. I had worked at the same place as a candy striper (not to be confused with stripper) when I was 12 years old. I asked about the work she did as a CNA and talked about certification and it peaked my interest. I decided that when my best friend left Swensens, I would too. The following summer I applied for the job at the hospital and they hired me. Based on some of the dirt bags they hired, I probably looked like Mary Poppins, sans umbrella. I was hired on the spot. I couldn't believe that I was going to be a professional CNA at 17. Little did I know back then...we did ALL the work, and I mean everything. The nurses passed meds and did report. In addition, they clouded up the break room with TV soaps and smoke and called doctors a few times. We did as much charting as they did and all the patient care.

Dad started to ask again what I wanted to be when I grew up...and my answer started to be "I wanna be a nurse"...at that point, Mom started to suggest a nursing school in Ohio (St. Lukes) and the dream began to fade up from black again. The irony of being me, is that within several months of working at the hospital, I ended up working as a high school senior volunteer at the local radio station. Take sound effect of deflating balloon.

When my patients started to die, plus sexually & verbally harrass me, I stopped thinking I was saving humanity by working as the only compassionate CNA at PVC Hospital. I remember baptizing a dying patient who asked for it and wondering if it really worked. I started to get burnt out on the heavy work that no one else wanted to do or avoided; such as impacted bowels, giving enemas, baths, and cleaning up accidents and soiled bed linens. I remember the night shift avoiding their call lights and just leaving the last minute stuff for the day shift. Getting deceased patients ready for the morticians or coroners was also a job that was a little depressing in that many of the patients we worked with had little family contact. A few times, after hard shifts, I'd come home frustrated and depressed. My uniforms stank and the little extra miles I did on the job seemed to leave little impact on the patients or my co-workers. The supervisors resented CNAs who made them look bad, so there was an unspoken rule to be just average. Whiners weren't tolerated and whistle blowers were put out.

As a senior, my grades were decent so I received scholarships for nursing (little ones but I was excited nonetheless). I registered for classes at the Junior College and started with Chemistry. As an 18 year old, I was not prepared for the level of study and tutoring I'd need to master chem, so I dropped it. It was a pre-req for every class I needed for nursing. I saw it as a sign to quit, so I transferred mid-year to SFSU and declared a new major, total unrelated to nursing. I liken that turn in the road as providential because it lead me to my husband and a couple careers I enjoyed.

As a nine year old, I would help my grandpa while he lived with us, with his meds or getting him blankets...and he would call me his little nurse. Was it a seed planted by my parents, my grandparents, or was care giving and advocating part of my genetic makeup. I'd like to think that there were specific calls from within my soul at 9, 12, 17 and 43 that called my soul to nursing. When I went back to school in 2006...chemistry was the beast I had to conquer and after taking 10 units of general and organic chemistry, I knew I was ready and it was time to finally fulfill, not only dreams I preceived my parents had for me, but the dreams I've always had for myself.