Lets be honest here. Nurses love to whinge. And to be fair, we do have a lot to whinge about.
Pay, for example. It took me four years of university to gain a nursing degree. In that same time I could have qualified in law, architecture or pharmacy, any of which would mean that I'd be on a pretty good income now, thirty years on.
The hours. Finishing at 11pm, back at 7am. Night duty- oh god, don't get me started. And when the majority of the population is sitting down to Christmas lunch, or whooping it up at midnight on New Year, where are we likely to be?
Interns. Year in, year out, that influx of baby doctors, many of whom actually believe that they know more than us about our patients. The ones who recognise us as a valuable resource are a delight, the others- a nightmare. Try educating someone who honestly believes that they have nothing to learn from you.
New graduate nurses. Every year, teaching them that nursing really is very simple, and boils down to very basic principles. Treat your patients the way you'd like someone you love to be treated. Make them laugh- a happy patient who trusts you and believes you like them is REALLY easy to nurse.
I could go on and on. Truly, if whinging were an Olympic sport, we'd all medal.
But here's the secret all that whinging conceals. (I'll probably be drummed out of the profession for revealing this).
I actually have the best job in the world. Seriously. At risk of my career, I'll tell you why.
Every single day I meet and have in-depth interactions with extraordinary people. Folk I would never meet in my day-to-day life outside work. Elderly people who have lived amazing lives through incredibly interesting times. Kids who have faced more in their short lives than you or I ever will. Teenagers who introduce me to new music and all the latest fashions and expressions. Mothers who give me great recipes. Folk from every country, culture, level of society and job. Other nurses who have THE funniest stories, none of which we could ever tell non-nurses.
And I meet my patients at a time in their lives when they have no interest in or energy for artifice or subterfuge. It's a bit hard to be worrying about your image, and others' opinion of you, when you're deathly ill, in pain, or frightened out of your wits. I meet them and get to know them in all the fullness of their characters and personalities. People who make me laugh to the point of incontinence, trust me with their darkest fears, or allow me the privilege of sharing their tears. Families, who sometimes appear rude or demanding, but are in reality just scared stiff and trying to cope with unbelievable stress. Who trust and accept me as a valued member of their special family team.
But all that's just the icing. Here's the best bit. Every single day, absolutely without fail, at least one person looks me in the eye and says a heartfelt "thank you". Just for doing my job! And I get to go home knowing that I made a difference. That's gold. Try getting that working in a bank.
