A full circle moment.

When I was 18 years old, I walked into the ICU at Loma Linda Hospital in Southern California and saw my father on a ventilator. 

At that moment, I knew he was going to die because he had always told me that he did not want any kind of artificial life support. 

I was so dazed by what I was seeing that I didn't dare take another step into the room. 

A sweet nurse approached me and knew right away that I had not been told about his condition. She offered me information, assurance, and the kindness to stay beyond visiting hours to say my goodbyes. 

There are a lot of crazy details that I will skip just to say that less than 24 hours later, I was by his side as they removed all of his tubes, wires, and devices and let him pass away. 

If someone had walked up to me at that time in my life and said that I'd have any kind of career in health care, I might have punched them. Doctor's offices, hospitals, assisted living, and skilled nursing facilities had now become a place of deep sadness and bad memories for me. 

In fact, years after losing my dad, I could not walk into any kind of medical building without a familiar gut-wrenching and light-headed feeling. 

Fast forward to when I am 25 years old, recently married, grieving a miscarriage, and desperately needing a job for the summer between college semesters. I interview 3 places: a food production warehouse, a property management company, and an assisted living facility. 

Despite all my previous feelings, the ALF was the most practical job, being just a mile from where we lived and having just one car between us. 

And something shifted in me over the months and years that I worked there. Working with aging and disabled adults, who had reverted to being like babies and children, healed my heart. In my grief of losing a child, in the memories of losing my dad, I found a deep sense of purpose and love in caring for these beautiful humans. 

And so the heart of a nurse was born. 

It took years still, to get to a place where I felt financially and mentally ready for going back to school, but I don't think I ever doubted it would happen eventually. 

This November 13th marked 18 years since I walked into that ICU to say my goodbyes to my father. I have now lived just as long without him as I did with him. It's hard for me to believe. 

And with that, I'd love to tell you that upon my graduation from the nursing program this year, I have accepted a position in the ICU at EIRMC. 

My hope is to be the same kind of nurse that approached me 18 years ago. To give people knowledge, patience, and kindness. To be there for them in whatever small way I can, especially when these are often the worst times in their lives. 

And who knows, maybe someone I meet along the way will become a nurse as well.