Nursing obsession
The reason I want to become a nurse is that I've been a dad for seven years, and I'd been in the hospital for weeks, and my parents are dead.
I've been a computer programmer for a decade, been there, done that.
I've been trying to be my dad's form of intellectual administrator for the past bunch of years, and that didn't work. He's dead, I'm out of it, let's move on. Amazing how that kind of thing happens, but it has.
I'd rather be a mechanic. Blue collar. Just not on machines. On people, instead.
Thus, nurseingship calls loudly. Run around being calm and cheerful while the blood spurts, the patients shriek, being calm and cheerful to them while injury and illness makes their eyes wide with the wonder of pain and suffering and the unfairness of nature.
For one thing, I saw my dad go through that for most of his last year here. Eyes wide with wonder as all his understanding of the planet sank farther. I saw the same thing pop loose on a couple of patients in the hospitals, too. Among other things.
And now I'm having some of it, with this brain screwup. Yes, Fucking Irony God is giving me quite a bit of same intelligence that my dad had before he died of old age.
So. Nursing.
I tried being a nursing student back when I was eighteen, and was completely freaked out by it, and later on avoided it for several decades with computer programming 'n stuff.
Fatherhood has given me all the wisdom, and deliberate lack of wisdom, required to work for doctors and patients. I do not want to be a doctor. I never could. Nursing looks enjoyable, frankly.
Nursinghood is the same kind of joy or misery for people that any industry is. The one good thing about having a brain tumor is that I've surveyed an entire industry, across about four hospitals here in Denver. The survey has been enormous, dramatic, and in at least one case, inspiring.
Today I'm taking our friend Nicole out to lunch. She's a nursing student, a nursing student whose life has been on several incredible sides of reality, none of it close to the middle at all, so, I want to interview her about being a nursing student and how she got there.
I've been a computer programmer for a decade, been there, done that.
I've been trying to be my dad's form of intellectual administrator for the past bunch of years, and that didn't work. He's dead, I'm out of it, let's move on. Amazing how that kind of thing happens, but it has.
I'd rather be a mechanic. Blue collar. Just not on machines. On people, instead.
Thus, nurseingship calls loudly. Run around being calm and cheerful while the blood spurts, the patients shriek, being calm and cheerful to them while injury and illness makes their eyes wide with the wonder of pain and suffering and the unfairness of nature.
For one thing, I saw my dad go through that for most of his last year here. Eyes wide with wonder as all his understanding of the planet sank farther. I saw the same thing pop loose on a couple of patients in the hospitals, too. Among other things.
And now I'm having some of it, with this brain screwup. Yes, Fucking Irony God is giving me quite a bit of same intelligence that my dad had before he died of old age.
So. Nursing.
I tried being a nursing student back when I was eighteen, and was completely freaked out by it, and later on avoided it for several decades with computer programming 'n stuff.
Fatherhood has given me all the wisdom, and deliberate lack of wisdom, required to work for doctors and patients. I do not want to be a doctor. I never could. Nursing looks enjoyable, frankly.
Nursinghood is the same kind of joy or misery for people that any industry is. The one good thing about having a brain tumor is that I've surveyed an entire industry, across about four hospitals here in Denver. The survey has been enormous, dramatic, and in at least one case, inspiring.
Today I'm taking our friend Nicole out to lunch. She's a nursing student, a nursing student whose life has been on several incredible sides of reality, none of it close to the middle at all, so, I want to interview her about being a nursing student and how she got there.