How Waiting Rooms Recruit Nurses

Our whole family was packed into a booth at our favorite pizza shop, laughing, teasing, and having a good time. Suddenly, my mom grabbed my dad’s hand and said, “Oh, no. I’m going to pass out.” She slumped over her pizza as the color drained eerily from her face to a frightening gray color. We called 911. I was ten years old.

This week, I’m so pleased to say that my parents are driving in to see my daughter sing a solo for Mother’s Day. My mother still loves music, laughter, and pizza, and I thank God for sparing her life.

Before she coded in a pizza shop, I had feared the people in scrubs. Admittedly, a lot of healthcare interventions seem so extreme and almost violent to a child – there is nothing gentle about defibrillation and chest compressions. But in the months that followed that event, I came to admire them – especially the nurses. They spoke with knowledge and kindness, and they noticed that I was afraid, explaining everything in the room and talking to us about the plan for my mom’s care.

It took years for me to grow the courage to actually study nursing, but when I received my license, I knew that it meant something. When I walked into a waiting room to invite a family in during visiting hours, part of me saw my ten-year-old self waiting in that yellowed room and it changed the way I worked.

When a co-worker told me that he went back to school for a second career in nursing because he was so inspired by the way our crew had cared for his father, I started to think about all the nurses I knew who joined the field because they were a patient or caregiver. Nearly everyone I worked with had some story of caring for a relative or experiencing an early childhood illness that was made better because of a nurse.

As nurses, we often develop unreasonable expectations for ourselves – but we need to take bathroom breaks just like every other human being. Our true strength isn’t some sort of super-human invulnerability. Rather, it is in our common experience with the trial of sickness.

It is our weakness and humanity that make us brilliant nurses. It’s not that we’re strong; it’s that we know about suffering. We have an understanding of that experience that goes way beyond the textbook definitions, and it is conveyed in all that we do.

This nursing week, I want to thank the nurses that took care of my mom so that I can celebrate Mother’s Day with her.

I also want to encourage you today, because the waiting rooms are still packed with people who are inspired by your dedication, your knowledge, and your kindness.

You never know which patient or family member will look at what you do and who you are and say, “I want to be like that.”

Happy Nurse’s Week 2024!