I shared my personal story over at Scrubs Magazine on what motivated me to join this wonderful profession.
Why did you become a nurse?
Or, alternately, “Why do you want to be a nurse?”
This is one of those ‘character’ entrance questions most of us get when we apply to nursing school. I’m pretty sure every school has some version of it. Some have you answer the question on paper, while others will ask you a version of this question during that ‘fateful’ interview. You know, that pressure cooker of an interview in front of ‘the panel’. Either way, the question tries to dig deep into the ‘why’ you are pursuing a nursing career.
I thought I’d share my story.
Rewind 10 years (approximately). I, like the rest of society (still does), thought nurses were poop scoopers and pill pushers. Why in the world would I want to do THAT for a living?! I was already in the health care field, but I just wasn’t happy – or should I say it wasn’t ‘it’ for me. I felt I wanted more from a career, and to simply do more. I had heard rumors that nursing was more than meets the eye, but I unfortunately did not know any nurses that I could talk with to get that kind of information.
As ‘fate’ would have it, I suffered a pretty serious injury that landed me in the hospital for a couple days. The care I received during those two days did not differ in the least bit. My plan of care, diagnosis and treatment plan was identical for those two days. Yet, my experiences as a patient during those two days were complete opposites.
Day 1 with my assigned nurse (let’s call her nurse A) was rather miserable (I’m being kind with my description). She was non-existent most times. When I asked for assistance, it seemed as if it took hours to at least answer my calls. When she did bedside care, it seemed as if she was ‘put off’ by me. I was taking up her time. She wanted to get in the room, do her thing, and get out as fast as possible.
Day 1 = Nurse A did not help my situation at all.
Day 2 with my assigned nurse (let’s call him Nurse B) was amazingly refreshing. His presence was noticed. He was in my room more often, even if it was just to poke his head in to ‘check’ on things. He performed the same ‘duties’ as Nurse A from the previous day, but I was not miserable. I felt important enough that when I had a concern or called out for assistance I didn’t feel like a burden. When he was in the room with me, he gave me his undivided attention. I don’t think he knew anymore about my situation than Nurse A did, but he put me at ease.
Day 2 = Nurse B helped me feel better.
So, if you’ve paid attention to my grammar you’ll notice Nurse A was a female, and Nurse B was a male. I like to think there was some sort of divine intervention at work during my stay, since I’d been curious about men in nursing, but as I admitted earlier, I was just as ignorant as the rest.
During the end of Day 2 with Nurse B, he poked his head in one last time to ‘check’ on me. It was the end of his shift, so he was wrapping things up with me. When he asked if there was anything I needed, or did I have any questions, I jumped at the opportunity. I asked him about his job, men in nursing, and what he thinks of his career.
He spent almost an hour or more talking with me about the nursing career. He told me stories about his own experiences and his career choices. And he emphasized at the unlimited opportunities nursing has afforded him.
I went home from that hospital admission with this burning in my belly. I couldn’t stop thinking about my experience. I was in awe at how much of an impact the care of one nurse made on me. It didn’t matter if I got better, healed, or fixed whatever ailed me. What Nurse B provided for me was immeasurable, intangible, and indescribable, yet it was the most important part of my care.
That was when I realized I wanted to do that. I wanted to be that.
I too wanted to impact lives.
The rest, as they say, is history. I continue to impact lives every day as a nurse, and I don’t foresee any end in sight.