My grandmother was my first patient.
Not in the literal sense. But when I got a toy nurse’s kit as a child, she was the first person I excitedly practiced on. Without any siblings and very little family, the options I had for patients was pretty limited. My maternal grandparents always felt like a second set of parents.
Where it all began
I still vividly remember calling her up at the top of the staircase to come to my bedroom (also known as the exam room). Every time I used my pretend stethoscope and fake injection on her, her eyes lit up. I would make sure to put a bandage on her arm every time. I started to get the feeling I was her favorite grandchild (maybe because I was her only grandchild).
Many of my favorite childhood memories involve all sorts of activities with my grandparents. Going out to their condo with the beautiful view of the lake behind them was always the perfect distraction from whatever was going on in my life. Whether I was on their balcony listening to the serene sounds of nature or listening to stories of their childhoods, everything about these visits was perfect. It always seemed like time stood still. Before I knew it, it was time to leave, or, as I used to look at it, back to reality.
From pretend play to real purpose
When I passed my boards as a young 22-year-old new grad nurse, I couldn’t wait to tell my grandparents, my two favorite people. I called my grandmother, and I could barely finish my sentence before she screamed, “SHE’S A NURSE!” to my grandfather. My grandfather cried when he saw me walk across the stage to get my nursing diploma. This time, it was my turn to cry. I achieved something that at one point felt impossible.
A few months into my first job as a nurse, I visited my grandparents, who still lived about an hour away from me. As I got older, the visits came less and less. I went from seeing them every other weekend as a child to only seeing them once a month, if that.
My grandmother was beyond ecstatic to see me. I thought this was because she wanted to ask me how my new position was. Instead, she told me she had the weirdest dream about me the night before.
In the dream, I was a child again, practicing my nurse’s kit on her. She said she couldn’t believe how real it felt. She told me how her one regret in life was not becoming a nurse herself. She told me how joyful she was that she could now live vicariously through me.
When life gets busy and time slips away
After celebrating my new title with them, life pulled me into the rhythm of work. The visits became even less frequent, but our bond remained.
Eventually, my grandmother started to succumb to old age and passed away at the age of 89. In the hospital, in front of my whole family and the staff taking care of her, she told everybody how she always knew I would be a nurse because of the nurse’s kit I used on her as a child. I began to think this was her favorite memory of me. My grandfather followed her a few years later, passing away at the age of 92, my last grandparent.
Carrying their memory into my nursing career
A few months ago, I started a new role as clinical nurse manager after six years of working the floor. I have only been in this role a short time, but I have already grown so much, both professionally and personally. Since I began this new position, I have been ruminating how proud my grandparents would’ve been of me. I can still feel my grandmother’s familiar smack on the arm, telling me she always knew I could do it.
Whether I’m collaborating behind the scenes with other staff or at the bedside, I strive to bring love and compassion to the care I provide. Being a nurse feels like pure kismet.
After all, I still am that little girl in my childhood bedroom — always trying to make my first patient proud.
