Dear Future Patient

Tomorrow is my very first shift as a nurse on the floor. I’m full of anxiety and excited energy. I’ve spent years preparing for this moment, and yet my nerves aren’t at all calmed by those efforts. I’ve been told this is normal, good even, and that I will never feel fully up to the task. I believe that. Still, it’s hard not to feel the pressure of this new responsibility and the weight of the work I’m about to do. In the weakest corners of myself, I wonder if the mean girls were right when they said I’d never make it as a nurse on the floor where real things can go wrong.  I have to actively choose not to let myself go there tonight.

I have to keep my head up and focus on the task ahead. This is the real deal. I’m responsible for how this turns out. I have to believe in myself, trust the training and know that there’s a team of people behind me, who’ve all taken this epic step themselves. They have a wealth of knowledge and wisdom from which I can draw when I’m unsure of my next move. I need to trust that somewhere inside me, under all the glittery nonsense, I have what it takes to do this. I am touched, honored and awed by the nurses who have given of themselves to bring me this far. I hope I can make them proud. I hope they’ll be glad they spent so much time on me. More than that, I hope my patient’s are proud. I hope they know that I thought of them, in the back of those classrooms, at those bedside simulations, and in the dreary moments with my head buried in text books building a foundation, one hopelessly tedious page at a time. I hope they know that they matter to me.

During my didactic training, a doctor dropped by to greet the class, and he said something I won’t soon forget. He said that ACLS is a great tool and knowing what to do in a code situation is essential. According to this seasoned doctor, codes are easy to address. There are algorithms and teams, and elaborate systems in place to get you through a code. The hard work, he said, happens in those 30 minutes before the code. Those are the early moments when a nurse can recognize, intervene, and keep that patient from ever going into a code. That, he said, is where the real magic happens. I want to be that nurse who cares deeply, and recognizes quickly the quiet warning signs of impending danger, and steers the patient clear of it as best we mortals know how.

In honor of this important milestone, I’m reposting an old letter. I will continue to feel this way, no matter how long I’m privileged to be part of this prestigious field of nursing.

Dear future patient,

I want you to feel seen, and safe. I want you to feel heard, and have confidence that I will advocate for you endlessly, and give you the very best I have in me to give. I hope that what I learn today will make me better for you tomorrow. I’m committed to being the nurse who understands that being good at my job is not an accomplishment, but absolutely imperative for your safety and wellbeing. I want to recognize and then do, those small things that mean the world to you.  It’s important to me, because you’re important to me. You matter and your life is invaluable, regardless of how much or how little I know about it.

Much love, and fluttery feels,

The Glittery Nurse