Guest Blogger ? The Nerdy Nurse

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This Nurses Week, we?ve asked our favorite Nurse Bloggers to contribute posts explaining why they became a nurse and their feelings on being a nurse.  Today?s guest blogger is our old friend Brittney Wilson, AKA: The Nerdy Nurse. Brittney is a staff nurse who works night shifts on a medical surgical floor.  Thanks, Brittney!

Most little girls play with dolls. They hold and caress them and tend to their every need.  They love them and imitate their parents and other adults around them in the manner in which they care for their plastic little angels. They feed, clothe, and protect these toys that are representations of infants and children.

In a similar tradition of the  doll play experienced by little girls, many nurses can proudly proclaim that they always knew they wanted to be a nurse. They remember being able to proudly answer ?nurse? whenever asked, and even if it didn?t happen early in life, at some point, they became what their they dreamed of as a child.

Even they  hadn?t always dreamed of being a nurse, likely, before they invest the time, money, and tremendous amount of effort into becoming a nurse, most come to the realization that nursing is something they want to do.

I wish I could say that I was one of those people. I wish I could say that I had dreamed about being a nurse as a little girl, while I cared for my dolls, and was proudly able to answer ?nurse? any time someone questioned what I wanted to be when I grew up. But, alas, my answer to that question seemed to change with the season. I can remember wanting to be anything from scientist to a lawyer. But nurse? No? I never remember dreaming about being a nurse. I never even remember thinking to myself that I wanted to be a nurse.

When I filled in the blank of major, on my college applications, I knew I could be a nurse. I was sure it was something I could do. But, I went full-fledge into nursing school without ever knowing that I wanted to be a nurse.  I told myself on occasion that I wanted to be a nurse, but I know that lust for the profession, that so many others seem to be born with, was not there for me at first.

I didn?t dream about being a nurse until 6 months after I passed my NCLEX and was practicing on the floor.  For me It took diving in, head first, in order to realize just how wonderful and exciting the nursing profession can be.

One morning, after I had made my rounds and was hurriedly working on my plan for the day, there was a moment when I suddenly felt a calm come over me. The heaviness of what it meant to be a nurse suddenly presented itself to me, but in a wonderful case of irony, this heaviness was not a burden, but a justification, of sorts for why I became a nurse. The proverbial light bulb went off, and  I would almost bet money that if you were standing beside me at the time, there would have seen one floating above my head.   This flash finally illuminated to me why I became a nurse: Nursing is about doing the right thing.

My path became illuminated. I understood what it meant when  the nursing teachers kept preaching about integrity. It all made sense to me now. Nursing is not just about caring for patients, completing technical task, and documenting care. Nursing is about fighting the good fight. Nursing is about understanding the comic book phrase of Uncle Ben ?With great power comes great responsibility?.

Being a nurse is so much more than patient care. It is an opportunity to stand up for what is right. Every day we have the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of our patients by doing the right thing.  It is that responsibility and that faith that my patients place in me that have made me want to be a nurse.

Want to share your own feelings on being a nurse?  Head on over to Facebook and post your story on our wall.  If you want to read more content like this, check out The Nerdy Nurse.

Thanks for visiting our blog to celebrate Nurses Week.  Check out for great Nurses Week gift ideas including nursing scrubs or give the gift of choice with a Tafford nurse gift certificate.

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