Okay, I remember these dresses.
How on earth did we ever bend over?
I had one gorgeous uniform with a full skirt; all it needed was a blazer and white pumps and I was ready for a night on the town.
Theoretically speaking. After eight hours in intensive care all I wanted was a hot bath and my sweats.
I loved that dress.
Had totally cool shoes, too.
Good lord, I haven’t shown that much leg in 20 years!
Well, I am losing the scrub color debate! Right now it is Kim: 1 vs. Anything But White: 19,557!
Lots of great email and comments so far! DK shared the “pink thong under the scrub” story, but my colleagues are safe – I don’t own any thongs.
Intentional wedgies have never been my thing.
I do remember a colleague who wore red undies under her white uniform, though. Remember the underwear that had the days of the week printed on them? Like you needed a reminder to change them regularly?
If my memory serves me correct, this particular nurse was wearing “Thursday”.
Another commenter (Randall) suggested unisex berets and twelve-inch RN embroidered on my chest. I immediately added his link to my blogroll. Anyone who can make me do a spit-take in a comment deserves a link! (Under the Mosquito Net)
So the trick here will be to take myself seriously without taking myself too seriously.
The experiment shall commence upon receipt of my white scrubs and lab coat (I’m not totally out of my mind – gotta cover the darn things so they don’t get dirty!)
I find it ironic that it’s the students who now wear the white and the nurses who wear the colors. Back in dem ‘ol days, it was the reverse!
The inspiration for this title came from Ian over at ImpactED Nurse after I put it through a Bruce Springsteen filter.
I’m tellin’ ya, if you are ever at a loss for what to write, start reading some other blogs and you will get an inspiration within 5 minutes.
None of my children went into nursing.
One is in law school, one works in public relations and it looks like my youngest wants a career as a counselor.
My sister has two kids who have decided on nursing. One is already an RN and now my nephew is taking the pre-requisites required for the nursing program.
I realized today why her kids followed in her footsteps and mine got as far away from nursing as they could.
I’m the reason none of my three children ever even considered nursing as a profession.
The resurgence of enthusiasm that I feel for my profession and that I reflect on this blog was not always in evidence throughout my entire career.
To put it bluntly, there were periods of time where I hated my job. When I was so far into burn-out I didn’t think there was any way out. I felt trapped, resentful. I knew I was meant to be a nurse but couldn’t pull myself through the mire of funk.
I was very verbal about my discontent. At home. Around my kids.
To them, being a nurse meant that mom had to leave them every night, every evening – at least five days a week, and go to a job she hated.
Now of course, Daddy was home so I never felt guilty about working – I was spared the child care troubles that so many of my colleagues had to deal with. Hubby worked days, and I worked evenings/nights.
But I had to work. I was the one with the benefits. And until relatively recently (early 1990s), there was no such thing as part-time with benefits.
I never knew how my working affected the kids until recently, when I found a cologne I used to wear in the ’80s. My oldest daughter noted it and said that particular scent made her sad.
She said it reminded her of my working and she was always sad when I left. It felt like I had been hit in the chest.
Here we have a situation where the kids see nursing as a not-so-fun job that takes mommy away on a regular basis.
I never encouraged them to think about nursing. In fact, for the majority of their formative years I bemoaned the fact that I had to work, that all I could do was nursing and that if I had my druthers I’d have been a stay-at-home mom.
Not exactly the type of environment that lights a spark.
In contrast, my sister’s kids watched first their dad and then my sister go through a nursing program. The entire time they were growing up, they had one parent or the other in nursing school.
They saw the enthusiasm that my sister and brother-in-law had for becoming nurses. Saw them study and work hard.
They saw how having nurses as parents made a difference in their life.
They saw how much my sister and her husband loved their jobs.
And two of the four kids thought, you know, that might be something I want to do. One already has. And one is on his way.
Their parents provided the spark that started them on the path to becoming a nurse.
I juxtaposed my experience with my sister’s story to make a point.
People are listening to how we talk about our profession. Kids are listening. Our kids are listening.
We need to be positive about the profession. Be aware of how we sound, what we say, how we portray what we do to the public and to our families.
Nursing is not a perfect profession but it is a good one and we need to give that message to anyone who will hear it.
We need to be the spark that lights the fire in the heart of the next generation of nurses.
Epilogue: I actually asked my kids about why they didn’t go into nursing.
My oldest daughter has an aversion to body fluids and “really doesn’t find the work all that appealing”.
My son has wanted to be President of the United States since he was six (seriously) and did not think nursing was the route to the White House. (Hmmm….he could have been the President and the National Nurse at the same time!)
My youngest believes she has a knack for listening and understanding other people’s problems and wants to parlay that into a career in psychology.
So, according to them, my periods through the “dark side” of nursing didn’t influence their career decisions in any way, other than they didn’t like the fact I had to work so much.
That made me feel better. But I’ll always wonder….
If I could have just gotten them to read Cherry Ames…….