Friday, April 27, 2007
I keep reading that there's a shortage of nurses. And that more and more men are entering the field. As I said in my last post, I am married to a Registered Nurse. While attending nursing school, he retired from his cabinet business last year and has been working as a nurse ever since. Now, I'm the kind of person who would prefer never to set foot in a hospital or doctor's office ever again. It is still hard to believe that my husband actually WORKS in a hospital (at least he gets paid well). And he likes it! I'd go mad. Suffice it to say that we have opposing views of hospitals, thus making it difficult to discuss his day at work. I've learned not to ask how his day went unless I'm prepared to hear it! Please, spare me the details, o.k! I'm the kind of person who hurts for people who are hurting. If it's a child, even worse. I can't stand for people to suffer. (I even tell the kids to kill bugs quickly, don't prolong the agony!) The good part is that my husband spends 8-9 hours making these people feel better, or at least, more comfortable. He has the kind of hands that make you feel safe when you hold them. So when I think that he might be holding someone's hand to help comfort them, that makes me happy. Think about it ... if you've ever been in the hospital, (and I have, several times - I do have 3 kids), it was the nurses who did all the work of caring for you. The doctor is in and gone in a flash. The nurses are the ones that you remember. The ones who helped you endure the nightmare. So, even though I still struggle in some ways with my husband being a nurse, I know that he's right where he wants to be. Right where he needs to be. And, certainly, right where God wants him.