Sometimes things go wrong.
I’m allowed to screw up.
I can’t be perfect.
I thought I wanted to be a nurse.
I started classes this fall.
I wrote this long personal statement…(don’t I sound convincing!???)
I was put on this planet to be a pediatric nurse. My aspiration emerged during my formative years. As a child, I adored the Franklin Institute’s giant walkthrough heart. Whenever I finished one journey through the pumping organ, I would simply start at the beginning again. As a child, the giant heart was the only exhibit that held my interest. As I matured, my love for health related topics and the human body flourished. Both my parents are physicians, so the first time I was invited to dinner at a friend’s house, I found it supremely unusual that her family’s dinner conversations did not consist of medicine, hospital, and science talk.
I was also put on this earth to be a mother. The professions of nurse and mother possess many similarities. Both involve relieving others of hardship. Additionally, never ending compassion and kindness are also necessary. I yearn to interact with hospital patients, especially kids. The task of growing up is difficult, and I want to make the ride smoother. I want to mollify the pain of every child that walks into a hospital. I need to devote my life to making children feel better. I have worked as a camp counselor at a summer camp. I am certain that I had a bond with the group of fifteen rambunctious six-year olds that my co-counselor did not experience. On the soccer field, a particularly tough girl had the wind knocked out of her, she stood up with a pained expression and her face quivered. It was apparent to me that she was on the verge of tears. My co-counselor screamed encouraging words, hoping she would stay in the game. The girl and I locked eyes and her tough exterior vanished. She ran into my arms crying. I spent the summer comforting, encouraging, and coaxing through the daily tribulations that occur at summer camp. At thanksgiving, I prefer the kid’s table to the mind numbing, hoity adult’s table. I falter and hesitate when interacting with adults, but I am at ease when interacting with children. I find kids to be translucent and easy to read.
I was eleven when I was diagnosed with idiopathic scoliosis. A year or two later, at the beach, I insisted to my parents that my hips were grossly uneven. At my first follow up appointment we discovered that my curve had drastically progressed, and a backbrace would be needed to prevent further degeneration. By this point, I was utterly miserable. High School is difficult to endure as a healthy, normal teenager. I had to go through High School wearing a backbrace, on top of all the normal pain and embarrassment associated with being a teenager. At the end of High School, I had spinal fusion surgery. The surgery transformed my life. The cosmetic effects of the surgery were extraordinary. I looked and felt like a normal girl. The surgery removed all my pain and sadness. I am forever grateful to the nurses and doctors at Shriners Hospital, especially grateful to the nurses. The doctors fixed my body, but the nurses mended my soul. I interacted with an enormous team of nurses daily. They took my blood pressure, cleaned my incision, and pumped me with morphine. On the day of my surgery, when the moment came for my brain to surrender to the anesthesia, they held my hand and whispered soothing words. Due to these compelling life events, I yearn to undertake the challenge of your BSN express program.
But now I am dropping out……
Until next time,
Lolly
