From care to vocation: how a nurse’s small act became a lifelong inspiration

Often the best questions result in the best moments of reflection and growth. During a recent panel discussion, I used to be asked how I knew I desired to turn out to be a nurse? This query gave me the chance to reflect on butterfly effect actions of 1 nurse regarding a teen’s future.

Sudden illness of the mother

I used to be 17, a sophomore in highschool, and I used to be getting increasingly enthusiastic about my first prom. The dress was chosen, the makeup was decided, and my highschool sweetheart (and now husband) had already asked me out. Just before the massive day, my mother began to experience increasing headaches and increasingly noticeable changes in her vision. Although it was initially regarded as stress or typical age-related vision changes, a visit to the ophthalmologist for a brand new prescription quickly led to a neurology consultation. Since my mother had already lost about 50% of her peripheral vision, imaging tests were ordered and craniopharyngioma was detected.

Suddenly, the final thing on my mind was prom as my mother was admitted to the local cancer hospital for treatment of a giant (non-cancerous) brain tumor. Her surgery was scheduled for the day of the massive dance. Her last words before being taken into surgery were: “When I wake up, the first thing I want to see are photos of how beautiful you looked at your prom.”

Her nurse heard our conversation and saw the uncertainty on my face. She comforted me as I waited alone in that small room. Working with colleagues, she coordinated a visit to the hospital’s hair salon, a spot normally reserved for cancer patients trying on wigs. Luckily for me, she discovered that one among the stylists on staff knew the right way to do formal hairstyles. Payment was taken care of. I used to be treated like a queen. I remember feeling special and cared for within the midst of this terrifying experience.

When my mother finally woke up the following day, I had photos that proudly showed her a teen who felt (and looked) like a princess, not due to crown, but mainly due to kindness and love shown to me by the nurses I had only recently met.

The lasting effects of a straightforward act

Now that I give it some thought, my mother’s nurse probably showed as much as work that day, just like all other day; perhaps the traffic was bad or her coffee spilled on the strategy to the hospital. This shift was probably one among several that week during which she spent long hours caring for complex patients on the neurology ward and was exhausted by the tip of the day.

For me, nonetheless, at the present time modified every thing. That was the day I made a decision I desired to turn out to be a nurse. An easy act of kindness and support from one among the nurses became greater than a thoughtful gesture. This was a turning point that modified the trajectory of my future. In a moment that would have been overshadowed by fear and uncertainty, her compassion left an enduring mark on the young girl’s heart and woke up in her a desire to indicate up for others of their most difficult moments, lead with empathy and carry that compassion forward.

Nurses are called to take care of their patients, but that decision rarely ends on the bedside. In times of fear and uncertainty, care often extends to members of the family, answering their questions, relieving their worries, and providing constant reassurance. What begins with clinical responsibility often becomes a compassionate presence, reminding families that they too are seen, supported, and never alone.

As nurses, we will forget that it is usually the smallest gestures that carry the best weight – a warm blanket, a couple of extra minutes to listen, or to arrange easy kindness for a loved one. Nurses may never fully see the impact of those silent actions, but their impact reaches far beyond the bedside, providing support not only to patients, but additionally to their families throughout the most difficult moments of their lives. The work we do as nurses – and our small acts of kindness – matter. My own experience as a patient’s daughter has taught me this.

Reflecting on this panel query took me back to moments of uncertainty surrounding my mother’s health, gratitude for her nurse and access to care, and a renewed awareness of how meaningful small moments could be in what may appear to be a typical day at work.

Today, I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to mix my two passions – education and nursing – as a clinical assistant professor and family nurse practitioner. My enthusiasm and keenness for working with students has never waned. I’m focused on training recent, empathetic and compassionate nurses, with the goal of raising the following generation of nurses who will emulate the identical kindness, compassion and heart for service because the nurse who cared for that frightened young girl at her mother’s bedside.

Author: Bryce Catarelli, DNP, APRN, FNP-C, CNE, Clinical Assistant Professor, University of Florida College of Nursing