One Thing I Know You Will Never Be Is a Nurse!

I think one's feelings waste themselves in words; they ought all to be distilled into actions which bring results.
- Florence Nightingale

When I was a child, I always said I was going to be a nurse. My Mom was a nurse, two Aunts were nurses, and my paternal Grandmother had been a nurse. It therefore seemed like a logical life path for me as well. When I was nineteen, I had surgery and spent five days in the hospital. The biggest lesson learned from that hospital stay was that I did *not* have the characteristics needed to be a caregiver. Not even close. What had I been thinking?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the nursing profession in the past week as my Mom is coming closer and closer to retirement. Her remaining shifts now number in the single digits. Unlike me, however, she did not envision a nursing profession in her future when she was a child. A memorable story in my Mom’s family concerned an episode in Rollo Bay Church one Sunday when George Mullally Sr. fainted. Mom grabbed her little sister’s hand and ran out of the church. Upon returning home that day she was barked at by her father “And where did you go?” My Mom promptly responded “Josie had to use the bathroom!” Her Mother then laughed and said “Well, one thing I know you will never be is a nurse.” My grandmother often laughed when reminiscing about that story and subsequent statement she made.

Mom did go on to be a nurse. Influenced by her friend Helen, Mom moved to Charlottetown and graduated from the PEI Licensed Nursing Assistant Program in 1966. Her sister Margie followed a similar path and graduated from the PEI School of Nursing a few years later. For as long as I can remember Mom and Margie’s nurses graduation photos sat on the mantle in my Grandmother’s living room. She was obviously very proud of her two nurses.


This is the photo that sat on my Grandmother’s mantle for as long as I remember.

Mom stopped nursing shortly after I was born in the early 1970s, and stayed home until I was in grade twelve. Looking back now, I realize how fortunate we were to be raised in the environment we were. We grew up in a small close knit community where neighbours helped and supported each other. We went to school with cousins and up until grade eight our father drove us to school every day on the school bus. In the nucleus of it all was our Mom. We sat down as a family and ate a home cooked meal together every evening. Mom helped us and oversaw our homework every night. She did everything and made our house a home.

When I was in grade twelve, Mom made the brave decision to go back to work. Undertaking an extremely intensive refresher course, Mom achieved the highest marks in her class, and renewed her nursing license. She immediately went back to work, this time at Souris Hospital. Starting off working casual, it didn’t take long for her to obtain a permanent full time position – and she never looked back. For the last twenty-two years, she has devoted herself to her patients at Souris Hospital in one of the most physically demanding professions in the workplace today – always with patience, warmth, a smile on her face and a seemingly endless supply of one-liners that kept her co-workers laughing.

Over the years, I have heard many describe my Mom as a ‘very special nurse.’ This was further evident in the many thank you cards, Christmas cards and occasional bouquet of flowers Mom received from former patients or families of patients. I’ve seen her time and time again, visit some of her elderly patients after they went home. After they passed away, she often went to their wake and funeral. She never did any of this for personal gain. She saw it as the final step – to show support and respect for her patients and their families – as that is supposed to be what wakes and funerals are for. In a nutshell, her heart has always been in the right place and accompanying it, no end to the giving.

Little did my Grandmother know how much her daughter’s nursing skills would prove to also have an impact on her own life. My grandmother lived to be ninety-three and in her final years, my Mom, with her nursing skills, was able to therefore see to Grammie’s cares and make sure her medications, dietary necessities and what not were are all taken care of. My Grandmother died in Souris Hospital where my Mom worked. In the years following her death, she watched other families go through the same loss she had endured, and in the same room where Grammie had died. Having been through it, she knew what these families were going through and therefore intrinsically knew what they needed to help them through this difficult time. As Florence Nightingale said above, Mom has the ability to distil her emotions into actions which always bring results.

Unlike most people when they retire, Mom is not “burnt out.” After all these years, she still loves what she does, she enjoys her work and gets along well with all her co-workers. It is simply her time. She was fortunate in that she was able to make the choice as to when she would retire. Because she is great physical health, the possibilities are endless as to what she will choose to do in the upcoming years. I am so excited for this next chapter in her life and am so incredibly proud of her. We are not the type of family to express a lot of emotion openly (thank God). In typical Irish fashion, we’d rather affectionately torture each other. But I can’t let this occasion go without thanking her for being the best role model. We all aim to ‘give back to society’ in some way through our life’s work. Mom is the perfect example of this. She is a nurse – and a damn good one...but I am of course a little biased.