I am working on an essay for an LPN program application. I know I am taking a risk by posting it here, it might really suck, you guys might say: "How is this relevant to why you want to be a nurse?" But I am really hoping I can get some good feedback to make this essay the best it can be. Please let me know what you think:
Why do I want to be a nurse?
I think my desire to help people started when I was quite young. I remember driving my mother and father crazy while I "treated" them with my doctor kits and band-aids. I even had an intensive care kit for my cabbage patch kids. Later, my grandmother got sick with diabetes and liver cancer. There was nothing I could do. I watched her go from a vibrant, fun person, who took me to dance class; to someone who had to wear wigs and couldn't hold down a meal. I knew at eight years old that I was powerless to stop the monster that was destroying my grandmother from the inside out. Still, the experience stayed with me.
Later, I watched my mother struggle to care for me and my sister as a single parent. She worked two menial, low paying jobs to barely keep the lights on. I knew two things; she didn't deserve that, and I definitely didn't want it for my life in the future. I did whatever I could to help her; watching my younger brother and sister, keeping the house clean, and trying to be supportive. There were many times that I was the glue that held our family together;many times that I helped her keep her head. I know that my mother prayed every night for some kind of help with bills and support. It finally came in the form of her dad, my grandfather. Unfortunately, this help came at a great price. At first, it was great to have a grandpa again, he helped mom with the bills and took us out to dinner, he bought us things that we couldn't have afforded otherwise. We were very thankful for his help. What we didn't know was my grandfather was a pedophile. I started getting suspicious when he would spend large amounts of time and money with my sister. They seemed very close, and I didn't think too much about it at first. I wanted my sister to have a father figure to love her. Our dad didn't. I didn't want to see what was going on right in our faces. My mom was working all the time, so maybe she didn't see it either. The abuse went on for two years. I wish that I would have noticed, or taken seriously the "jokes" my sister made about her and my grandfather. My grandfather was having problems with choking and getting food down. He was diagnosed with a hiatal hernia. While receiving treatment for the hernia, an x-ray was done that showed a mass on his lung. He was then diagnosed with lung cancer. He went through all of the radiation and chemotherapy, but the cancer metastasized to another part of his body. I was no longer living at home by that time, but I remember the call, I remember the shock. About a year later, I get a call from my mom that he didn't have much longer and could I come home and take care of him? Of course I agreed. I will never forget how I felt when he came down the hall; a walking, talking skeleton! I mean, it was like something out of a horror movie!
My heart dropped to the floor. I knew my mother was right. He was running out of time. What could he possibly need me for? I had no nursing knowledge. I had very little caregiver experience, other than a live in position with a diabetic, where I just made sure he took his meds and made meals for him. I found out that my "job" would just be to keep him company, keep him comfortable. I brought him drinks, made sure he had his oxygen cannula on, and sat listening to him talk for hours. I really had mixed feelings about the situation. I loved my grandfather, in spite of his flaws, and at the same time, I was ****** off because he raped my sister and threatened her life if she told anyone. I had moments where I thought, "I know what I'd like to do with your life!" Yet I never said a word to him about what happened.
I talked to the nurses that came to see him a few times a week. They said it wouldn't be hard to learn body mechanics and become a nurse's aid. I was too scared. I was scared of doing harm. After my grandfather died, I went to my local community college to look at requirements for nursing school. It was daunting. I took the assessment tests and would have had to start at the bottom for math. I wasn't ready. The dream did not die though.
Ten years later I drummed up the courage to enroll in college classes. I was a single mom, just like my mother, but I didn't want to struggle, and I wanted a better life for my daughter. I have been working on my pre-requisites for nursing since 2009, doggedly pursuing the coveted place in a nursing program. In this time, I have been homeless, living in hotels, in cars, on a city bus, in shelters, and finally, in transitional housing. When I say I "doggedly" pursued my goal, I am saying that I took hold of my dream like a Rottweiler and did not let go; no matter how many people hit me with a brick, and believe me, there were a lot of bricks.
I think one of the qualities that makes a good nurse is tenacity. The ability to keep going no matter what is going on, to stay with a task, even when it seems you are failing. To never give up. You also need compassion, empathy, and a whole lot of good common sense.
Ok, so this is my first draft. consider it a work in progress. Help if you can. I wait anxiously for your replies. Thanks.
