Foggy Memories

I remember waking up in middle of the night in the ICU. The room was fairly dark, machines were beeping their lullabies in rhythm to the pinprick lights that surrounded my bed, and in my large doorway I could see a small figure with long dark hair in a ponytail checking my vitals. I wavered for a moment in that groggy, dreamy state, but quickly slipped back into peaceful unconsciousness, feeling safe, safer than I had felt in a long time. Finally someone was monitoring me, and the only thing expected of me was to be, and let others do their work on my ailing body, and if my diaphragm  stopped breathing for me in the middle of the night, they would know, and I would be okay. The desperation was gone, and sleep overtook me.

When light flooded my room the next morning, I awoke to a new nurse. She was petite, and gentle. She appeared to be just a couple of years older than myself, but she handled herself as though she were completely in control and knew exactly what she was doing. Her dark hair, pulled into a ponytail that hit her mid back, was rope like, and straight. She had a small, beautiful, and gracefully pointed face.

"Good Morning Sweetie."

I mumbled a response, and observed her as she went quickly about her work, again checking my vitals and taking blood.

"Oh, that's a big, sexy vein. Come to me, you sexy vein."

I was unaware that my right hand had such desirable qualities.

She drew more blood than I thought was possible from the top of my right hand, between my pinky and ring finger. I just watched in awe as yet another vial was filled, and another, and another. I didn't know it was safe to continually pull this much blood from a person- I had already donated at least 10 gallons in the past 24 hours to their tests! And no results yet.

That morning was the first morning in almost a year that I'd had the opportunity to just lay in bed. As I lay there, the nurses told me my schedule for the day, which MRI's I would be getting, what needed to happen to be let out of the ICU, and fluffing my pillows and asking if I was comfortable or needed anything.

The bustling died down, and I was again alone with the 'big, sexy vein' nurse.

"How long have you been a nurse?" I asked, hoping to learn about her and why she was here, dedicating so much time and effort to me.

"2 years," came the brief response, and then, "Okay babe, we gotta get you taken care of before you go get your tests done. I think you'd probably like a shower before then. I'm going to help you out with that."

As she helped me (which means did everything- I couldn't lift even my head), she began to ask about me, why I was in New Jersey, what I enjoyed, and what my dreams were. She made me feel like I had a friend, and a future, as she did everything that I couldn't do- she brought me food, she fed me, she bathed me, she helped me use the restroom, she brushed my hair, she made sure the doctors were aware of my situation... and I sat in awe.

As she was checking the computer at the foot of my bed, a huge wave of emotion overwhelmed me. I felt a deep pang, a deep love, and a desire similar to that which I had about a mission before I knew I could serve at 19. I have reflected on that moment many times since. It was the Spirit, and it was telling me that this, being a nurse in an ICU, was what I needed to do with my life, and I knew nothing would make me happier.

I haven't looked back since.

I have learned from the Spirit as I have pondered on that moment of overwhelming emotion. I have learned that by directing me to nursing, God is answering my prayer of the past year or so- to be an instrument in His hands, to bless others as He directs me. As I looked at that nurse, I didn't realize it, but I was looking at someone who was taking care of me and serving me the same way the Savior would have done if He were there physically. I felt safe, finally, the way that I do when I know that He has me, and that no matter what I may have done wrong or whatever pains are causing desperate pain in my soul, safety and joy lies ahead.

That's why I am going to be a nurse- because in order to answer my plea to be a pure instrument, God is going to help me develop and stretch myself spiritually every day as I help people through the most horrific moments in their lives, and love them as they suffer.

Nursing. I never thought I would be a nurse- in fact I refused for years, every time my father brought it up. Now, I can't think of anything else I would do- when the Lord commands, just do it. You'll be happiest and learn the most that way :) I have learned that. When we give our lives to Him and submit to His will, more is made of our lives than we can possibly make ourselves. God is good- and life is beautiful, even when it's hard :)

Here I am with a couple of my nurses in the ICU before I got moved to the floor :)

This is my companion, with the curly hair. She changed my life- she served me as Christ would have served me. I owe my life to her.