Wednesday, July 12th, 2017

Health Care Soul To Health Care Soul

January 4, 2011 by  
Filed under Certified Nursing Assistant License

Having grown up in the 60s was a wonderful magical time for me. All my age seem to be just as happy as if I were to choose the gallery, we have created to play Barbie. American Band Stand flowed through the front door open, so we can hear, or even scratched Beatles LP covered launched again and again. I had a special birthday when I turned ten years. My mother gave me two gifts, which remains a part of who I am today. I got a transistor radio and a microscope. She knew I loved music and science. She took my little original interpretation autopsies in the garage of voles and locusts. She also learned to ballroom dance and stage of his jazz box it played all day on his “suitcase phonograph.”

I learned to sing listening to jazz greats. And listening to Motown and the Beach Boys on my transistor radio underneath my pillow at night until the battery crackled. During the day I was scooping the water into the pond and put the slide under my microscope, and entertained for hours on the functioning of cells. God will help a bit of pollywogs I had hands.

Fast forward three decades my late 40s. I wanted to be a nurse and was accepted into a nursing program. Time to get serious. My days of singing in bands my brother or my uncle to accompany fall in clubs to live music came to a hault. I have a serious profession, I try to continue here!

I did well in science and transported hood ass in my back pocket, while I struggled to work the calculations, particularly calculations of children . Now I am working towards the final straight in my program, and the final clinical rotations. Three months before graduation, I meet an unforgettable patients I have prescribed. He saw many students and many of the nurses come to her room. I am just another. I am creating a professional relationship with him and he will do his best to go along with a nurse to be inexperienced, the training wheels attached to my white toilet paper in the train. A few days after treatment for her, I am going to meet and change the sheets on the bed with him. Since doing this, I quietly begin to sing a jazz song very old. He said, “let it out, I want to hear you.” I went a bit of stronger and he came to me word for word. When the song was over, a smile is priceless and ears. He asked, “do you sing professionally?”

I said no, but I have seen some in the shop my brother’s house recently. I wanted to know what song was and he said well, that I just sing. She asked if there was any way she could hear. Now I have fear of crossing a professional line of students and the idea of being discovered by my teacher or a colleague that I discovered and started from my last semester. I thought and decided that it would happen a secret that I have shared so far, when I write this article. She has me and he hid what he had gold in her sewing basket. He had a small CD player with headphones to play your selections jazz itself. The secret was sealed with me.

I hid it and gave it to him on Wednesday and was wondering all weekend, “did she like it, did she hear a flat note, did she like the jazz arrangement?” I arrived the following Monday morning I had a clinical and addressed to him. But not downstairs to his room to do something else (what sneaky Pete). Carefully, he dug deep into his hiding place and said he was excited to hear it and it was a special night. Wow.

Three months later, just weeks before graduation, I am sitting in a large waiting room at my local hospital for my appointment. On the other side of the room, I see a familiar face. She is in her wheelchair with assistance. I can not see them again. My name is called and I have to walk past her. As I do, she extends her hand to me and grabbed me and said: “you will be a nurse. But to me you will always be a jazz singer. Thank you, from my soul to yours.” I was speechless when I saw her eyes shining with moisture and her lower lip started to vibrate. She closed her eyes on me and what kiss dropped a tear.