I am a nurse.
Registered nurse. Bachelor's Degree. Graduated in the top 6 of my class with Magna Cum Laude. You could say I'm a pretty smart girl.
I'm also a lesbian. 100%. I've never been with a man. I've never had the desire to. Girls only, thank you.
You don't see many lesbians in my profession. Occasionally, yes. I do run into "family" every now and then. But not nearly as often as I'd like. There's many work days where I feel alone. But I don't entirely mind. If people ask if I'm married or have a boyfriend, I just shake my head with a smile. If they're smart, they'll catch the faint glimmer in my eye and the hint of a mischievous grin on my lips.
The vast majority of the patients I care for are heterosexual. And I mean VAST majority. But every now and then, every couple of months, I'm presented with a pleasant surprise. And my heart is so warmed.
April 2010. Last semester of Nursing school. I was completing my Preceptorship (also known as Practicum or Internship) in the Intensive Care Unit. Serious stuff. People on the brink of death, being held to life by machines that pumped air into their lungs, or medications that squeezed their blood vessels tight, keeping a vital flow running to their brain tissue.
This was one of the most trying times of my nursing career. I was still in school, so I had the security blanket of not being truly responsible. I literally watched people be given a second chance at life. And I held someone's hand as they passed out of this world and onto the next.
There was one moment, however, that truly warmed my heart. One of the most touching moments I've ever experienced.
I come in to the unit, bright and early at 5:30am. We start receiving report. Older woman found by a swimming pool, unconscious. Heat stroke had set in. Temperature upon arrival to the ER was 107. She stopped breathing and had to be put on a ventilator. She was found without identification, so her original admission paperwork said "Jane Doe." Later on, the hotel she was staying at confirmed her identity. She was from up north, down on vacation. Family was coming to find her.
I stood at the bedside, the nurse that took me under her wing was beside me. The curtains were closed and we were tending to the dressings on her heat blisters. I see feet approach outside the curtain and shuffle apprehensively. After a moment, a worried female voice.
"Do you have my partner in there?"
...Partner?
"Are you looking for Mrs. ____? Yes, this is her."
In comes in an older woman with short, graying hair. Heavy Boston accent. Eyes filled with relief and concern. She immediately goes to our patient's side, taking her hand and calling her by an affectionate pet name. I'd be surprised if no one in the room caught how much my eyes lit up, how much my heart swelled, and how utterly touched I was. I took the best care of this patient that I ever have up until now.
"We've been together 34 years. I was so worried about her. She loves Florida, so she comes down for a week every year. I never expected this to happen."
Thirty-four years.
That patient recovered in just two short days. She was taken off the ventilator and within a week or two, was back home with her partner.
These are the moments I live for. These are the moments when I say I'm ridiculously proud to be a nurse.
