“I recall wondering where this process had been all my life. Of course, it had always been there. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that writing could be such an effective tool for examining, reflecting, processing, and learning.”

‘Like a girl playing dress-up in a nurse uniform.’

by hannah olinger/unsplash

At age 19, I graduated with an associate’s degree in nursing, passed my boards, and went to work in a regional hospital near my college, in the city where I grew up. My geographical radius was as puny as the range of my life experience. I feigned excitement about the new job, but I was overwhelmed. I knew I needed more of everything: experience, education, tools for coping. Eventually, I discovered one of the missing tools was writing.

I entered every shift with anxiety, certain I would walk in on a patient or situation I was ill-equipped to handle. At night, I tossed with worry. When sleep came, dreams became nightmares of IVs running dry and patients coding.

I had only myself to blame. As a teen, I wasn’t ready to decide what to do with my life. I knew nursing was a noble profession, and my parents nudged me toward a program that was economical, efficient, and allowed me to live at home. At […]