On Being a "Real" Nurse

I really can never go back to being a "real" nurse - you know, the kind that gives out meds, starts IV's, helps patients in an out of bed, etc, etc etc and generally runs her/him- self ragged for at least 8 hours a day. I can't be a "real" nurse again because my lumbar area (low back) MRI showed that I have severe spinal stenosis, degenerative disc disease and a disc protrusion on the right (hence the right leg ache while driving).

When my rheumatologist read the results of that MRI, she asked me if I had been an "athlete" when I was younger. I laughed and told her that I had been the fat girl in the corner with her nose in a book - in short: the "anti-athlete." When I finished laughing at her, I said, "Not an athlete - just a nurse for the last 36 years."

I still have my RN but I don't do "real" nursing; I do "quality improvement." I'm the Director of Quality Improvement for a company that owns 18 nursing homes in Pennsylvania. I have five Regional Nurses who each have their own group of facilities.

Today I was in one of buildings doing a presurvey, a mock survey prior to the Department of Health surveyors and the relicensing review that every nursing home goes through yearly.

I do enjoy this part of my job - especially when I don't uncover major issues. Today was a good day. But the best time was when I was in the facility's Alzheimer's unit. The residents were in the dining room listening to music, waiting for their lunches to be delivered. Some were singing along to the old rock and roll standards. When Don McLean's "American Pie" came on, I started singing - much to the delight of several of the ladies. I noticed one lady was singing the words perfectly. I asked her how she knew the words. "I sung it with my children," she said. Sometimes Alzheimer's allows a bit of clarity to slip out - a memory remains. For her it was "Bye, bye, Miss America pie." It's during times like this when I miss being a "real" nurse.

Then I feel a twinge in my lower back, my right leg aches and I can't bend down to talk to a resident in a wheelchair. And then I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be -- for now.

I really should be writing full-time. One day. Sitting in my little cottage in the middle of the woods. Blisssssssssssss.