IDRNTOO

We've established many times, just how long I've been a caregiver. All of my life. It was my calling, truly. When I first went into nursing, I took the short course and became an LPN. I needed to do that to escape a bad marriage. I needed a way to provide for myself and my young child. It took an entire year to get through that program and I often felt, it was the hardest one of my life. I had light at the end of the tunnel but was living in the same home as an alcoholic and abusive man. My parents used to beg me to leave there because they were worried for my safety. I however, needed a plan and that took time.

I finally got what I needed, moved out and I took my daughter with me. I got a job at a horrible nursing home in a very rural area. To say the least, they were very backwards there. I'm sure the place still exists and I can only hope they've joined modern nursing in this new century. I kind of doubt it.

My second job was a little better but I worked midnights with an odd Eastern Indian woman who like to tell me at every opportunity, "IDRN, UDLPN." "Isidandchard, udodmeds." For all 60 patients, I passed the meds while Nurse George, maybe her real name, sat on her royal fanny. This was 1984. All these years later, it still burns my ass. I despise sloth. It was however, the dawning of the burning need to go back to school so I could get the hell out of places like that. That's exactly what I did too. I went to school, worked full time and mothered my daughter. I was driven to get away from Ms. George.

All I talked about during that time, was my hatred for Nurse George. Nonstop, I bitched to anyone who would listen. It helped to fan the flames to keep myself going. I was definitely burning the candle at both ends. In 1986, I no longer worked with her, but I still talked about her. I was so close to finishing school and I had a new sweetie then; my husband to be. One day, we got in the car and started driving. We stopped in Port Huron and went to the marina to see all the sailboats waiting to race to Mackinac Island. Then we decided to cross the bridge to Canada and just drive. We ended up in Niagara Falls, two hundred miles away. Along the way, I told him all about my nemesis. A lot. The next day, strolling alongside Niagara Falls, above the roar of the water, I heard my name being shouted in a thickly accented voice. There she was, DRN. I couldn't escape her. I was completely gobsmacked at this chance meeting. So was my husband. I'd We'd talked about her for at least two of the four hours it took to drive there and now, here she was in the flesh. Like she'd been following me.

I still think about this nurse often. I've run into people just like her over the years and while I still abhor sloth, maybe I owe her a debt of gratitude. Perhaps she is the one who was the driving force to get me back in school. Maybe her example helped shape my own nursing practice. Twenty four years later, I'm now willing to forgive Nurse George her slave driver ways. Without her, I'd still be passing meds to 60 patients a day. I only hope that bringing her up again, I haven't given myself a Beetlejuice like curse.