Can you tell I'm excited?!
That means that I have one. more. semester. until I'm a nurse! A real live scrubs-wearing, stethoscope-using, chart-toting nurse. I kind of can't believe it. And at the same time, it's been one of the hardest things I've ever, ever done... this cramming a Bachelor's degree into 16 months. Yikes. It's not for the faint hearted (or weak stomach), but it's been worth every hour of sleep lost, every test I've crammed for, every blood pressure I've taken and shot I've given. (And for those who have heard my many crazy nursing stories, there have been other things I've seen and touched that just won't make it to blogland. Sorry.)
I still can't believe the privilege it is to walk into someone's hospital room, stand by their bed, and become part of their story in that instant, in the most vulnerable place in their life.
Trust me, it doesn't always feel like a holy moment.
Sometimes, I feel panicked, uncomfortable.
Like last week, when I stood by the bedside of a mentally challenged five year old boy who could not speak and wore a diaper. I had no idea in the world how to approach him, communicate with him, comfort him when I'm sure I scared the heck out of him wearing a mask and a gown and gloves and coming at him with a blood pressure cuff.
But it's in those moments that I have to pray, "Lord, take over. I am so worthless here." I feel like I have absolutely nothing to offer. But then I remember I have Him, and that's more than enough. I can offer the Healer, the Comforter, the Savior through my words, through the silences, through the love in my eyes.