resisting the urge to troll!

  1. [font=lucida grande]one of my friends on fb who is a ma just posted this. she has only worked in an ob clinic and has never experienced anything from the poem. resisting the urge to ask her if she knows any nurses. i know it is wrong. that is why i am posting here rather than there.

    the nurses poem-
    [font=lucida grande]what do you see, nurse, what do you see?
    [font=lucida grande]what are you thinking when you're looking at me?
    [font=lucida grande]a crabby old woman, not very wise
    [font=lucida grande]uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
    [font=lucida grande]who dribbles her food and makes no reply,
    when you say in a loud voice -- "i do wish you'd try."

    who seems not to notice the things that you do,
    and forever is losing a stocking or shoe,
    who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,
    with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.

    is that what you're thinking, is that what you see?
    then open your eyes, nurse, you're looking at me...
    i'll tell you who i am, as i sit here so still;
    as i rise at your bidding, as i eat at your will.

    i'm a small child of ten with a father and mother,
    brothers and sisters, who love one another,
    a young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet.
    dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet;
    a bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
    remembering the vows that i promised to keep;
    at twenty-five now i have young of my own,
    who need me to build a secure, happy home;
    a woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
    bound to each other with ties that should last;
    at forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
    but my man's beside me to see i don't mourn;
    at fifty once more babies play 'round my knee,
    again we know children, my loved one and me.

    dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
    i look at the future, i shudder with dread,
    for my young are all rearing young of their own,
    and i think of the years and the love that i've known;
    i'm an old woman now and nature is cruel --
    'tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

    the body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
    there is now a stone where once i had a heart,
    but inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
    and now and again my battered heart swells.

    i remember the joys, i remember the pain,
    and i'm loving and living life over again,
    i think of the years, all too few -- gone too fast,
    and accept the stark fact that nothing can last --
    so i open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
    not a crabby old woman, look closer, nurses -- see me!
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    About grownuprosie, ASN

    Joined: Feb '11; Posts: 397; Likes: 541
    RN Float; from US
    Specialty: 1 year(s) of experience


  3. by   RNAnnjeh
    I have seen this poem circulating for quite a few years.

    The poem is more about the loss of control and ability to care for oneself as we age rather than taking a slap at nurses. It is a call to all of us to remember those who we provide care for...once they were young, independent and full of life. Now, they rely on someone else for everything; a place to live, a bed to sleep in, meals, recreation and sometimes bodily functions.

    Perhaps this poem is a reminder for nurses to look beyond the tasks of our day-to-day work and look deeper to see the ME in all of our patients/clients.

    We will all be the ME in this poem someday.

  4. by   nursefrances
    Thanks for posting this. I remember hearing this in nursing school. It always stuck with me.