My name is Bobbie. I’m your nurse.

I read a meme on Facebook people shared recently that left me with a lot of emotion. Not anger or bitter emotion. Honestly, it was an empty ache from sadness at the depth of what it meant. The real of what it said. And I wondered, do people even know what they’re saying when they quickly hit the share button on the Facebook feed. Do they really know. On the surface I can only think they don’t. But I’m not sure. 

I’ve been a nurse for 20 years. I became a nurse out of a desire to make a difference in the lives of people the way my nurse did for me. As I sat lonely in my room recovering from a traumatic delivery while my son fought for his life 6 weeks early in the neonatal intensive care unit 45 minutes from me. She compassionately cared for me without judgment. I was barely 18, poverty stricken, a high school drop out, and scared out of my mind. I was a statistic and I knew it. So did she. But she cared for me in a way that left me different. I wanted to do that for someone else. 

Over the years I’ve had patients I’ve carried with me. I can tell their story in great detail. As I close my eyes I can see their faces. Some were times of joy. Miracles before my own eyes. And others weren’t. Others were moments of terrible tragedy. Devastating losses. Traumatic life experiences sometimes at the violent hands of another person. Maybe even the violent person was them. In the 20 years of caring for others I’ve occasionally lost myself along the way. I’ve driven home with sobbing tear filled eyes. Other times I’ve silently cried. 

I would like to think that everyone who comes into the nursing profession finds their way to it because of a compelling call to the service of others. I believe most do. Some don’t. That’s real. Nursing isn’t for everyone. 

Along this journey I’ve worked beside some of the finest colleagues. People I’ve been honored and humbled to be in the profession with. But, in the same token, I’ve worked along side some that left me wondering why they’re here. Thankfully, that number has been few. But they still exist. And those people can leave a bad experience with a person. Especially one who is “less than” what others deem to deserve fair and right treatment. 

The vast majority of nurses are compassionate loving caring intelligent people serving members of their local community without bias, prejudice, or judgment no matter the circumstance.

Never did I imagine that signing up to be a nurse in service to others could result in my life being threatened. 

I cared for a gentleman who was made comfort care by his family. He had a long history of medical comorbidities mostly brought on by his long battle with drug addiction. He had a large leaking aneurysm that was inoperable. Our only hope was to make him comfortable until he passed away. I took report and visited him first. He was my more stable patient. I completed all my duties then went on to the compassionate part of my time with him. I spoke to him as I turned his pillow to the cool side and pulled all the wrinkles out of the sheets under him. Promised I would be back just as soon as I could to lotion his back and turn him. He wasn’t awake so he couldn’t respond. But I spoke softly to him anyway. Just in case. 

As I walked back in the room a couple hours later to complete the tasks I’d promised earlier, he began to writhe in pain. The aneurysm was done. I did everything I could to make the last few minutes of his life as comfortable as possible. I stood by his side and held his hand telling him he wasn’t alone. I felt relief as his last breath left him. His pain was now gone. And then the formalities of it all happens. Family notifications. 

I was surprised by the response of his family. I had never experienced my life being threatened before. And I couldn’t understand why they were so angry with me. I had done all I could. After they left, I finished caring for him.  My heart hurt that morning as I drove home. Hurt to have been belligerently screamed at for something I wasn’t at fault for. I felt compassion for them. For their loss. Their grief. 

It still hurt. 

A couple weeks later they came back to see me. Threatened my life for murdering their loved one. They came to settle the score. I was scared and shocked to my very core. Scared for my family. Afraid they would see me driving and follow me home. My children could be unsafe. My home. My life. 

I guess I could have quit nursing. I mean that is an option. One I considered. But is that fair. Should I have to quit nursing because people who had a bad experience with healthcare accused me of terrible acts I never committed. Never would. Despite the compassion and love I showed their family. Compassionate care they weren’t there to witness. Should I have to quit serving? 

Here is the meme: 

Blue lives aren’t real. 

Well, nurses lives aren’t “real” either. Because a nurse can quit being a nurse. I could have quit. Never to nurse again. 

But, should I have had to quit nursing to not be threatened by someone because of the experience they had with another member of my profession I’ve never even met???

No. I shouldn’t. And, No, I didn’t. I chose to stay in the profession I believe is a part of my calling and continue to serve. To this day. My life has been threatened more than once. Yet I stay. Because I love what I do and am honored to do so. 

There are bad nurses. There are bad cops. There are bad doctors. There are bad lawyers. There are bad judges. There are bad politicians. There are bad teachers. There are bad people in every single profession that exists on this planet. Because there are people and some people are bad. 

That doesn’t mean my life isn’t real. And it doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. 

As a culture of people, we have to do better. We have to expect accountability for wrong. Across all professions. Across all people. We have to stop trying to make wrong into right, unholy into holy, lies into truth. And we have to stop blaming the whole for a few bad. 

Hold those few accountable without forgetting there are good men and women serving the public committed to compassionate, loving, excellent, character. They don’t deserve to be told if you don’t want to take whatever we throw at you then quit because your life isn’t real and doesn’t matter. 

Every patient I’ve cared for before and since that first life threatening incident has been greeted with the same compassion and love as the others. The same as that man in that bed before he passed from this earth. Because nursing isn’t about me. It’s a part of how I serve and love people. I greet them the same. My name is Bobbie. I’m your nurse. 

If you want change. 

If you want better for yourself, your kids, and their kids. 

Be transparent, be truthful, and lead with love.