Aside from being asked about my ethnicity, I get asked often about why I chose to become an RN. For those who are unfamiliar with what RN stands for, it stands for Registered Nurse.
I have always been fascinated with learning how the human body works even at a young age. I just think it’s amazing how much the body can handle and literally “fix” itself. I took an optional anatomy and physiology class in high school just to learn more about the human body. I loved the course, but like most teenagers out there, I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to do once I was out of high school. If my parents had it their way, I would’ve ended up being a housewife. However, being the rebel that I was, I had already decided all on my own that there was no way in hell that was going to happen and I would make something of myself. I was really into computers during that time so I took a couple courses here and there. I even learned how to program in C++. However, what eventually led me down the path of nursing was when my Dad was admitted once again into the hospital.
Growing up, my Dad was in and out of the hospital. My Dad had been sick for a while. However, when you’re a teenager, you believe the world revolves around you, and only you. I was too focused on developing an identity, and establishing emotional & psychological independence from my parents. Never in the back of my mind did I think I was going to lose my Dad. The media always portrays young adults leaving home for college and the parents growing old together and they all live happily ever after. My Dad was supposed to live to see me grow older. I didn’t know why he was sick, but I thought, oh, he’ll recover. I didn’t think it was anything serious.
The first time he was hospitalized was when I was in the 7th grade. I remember having to do a report for my English class. While I was in the library trying to decide on a subject, the cover of a book caught my attention. The cover was of a person who had yellowing of the sclera and looked extremely jaundiced. This was when I discovered and learned all about the different types of Hepatitis.
When my Dad was discharged from the hospital, I wanted to know what was causing him to become ill so I read some of the discharge papers and that was when I discovered that he had Hepatitis. On top of that, he had hypertension. He never drank alcohol. However, in his home country of Laos, he didn’t necessarily have the best living conditions. Laos is considered a third world country and there is no clean running water, no plumbing, and only dirt floors. As far as medical care goes, it was all about herbs, coining, cupping, and sacrificing animals & hiring a shaman priest to talk to the spirit world to ask for a cure for illnesses. During this time, I felt kind of weird. I felt as though maybe I had caused my Dad to get sick just because what were the chances of me deciding to write a report about Hepatitis and then discovering that he was sick from that same exact condition did I wrote a report on? He definitely had the signs and symptoms that I read in the book. I felt like an idiot. Why didn’t I know he was sick from this? The yellow skin and the yellowing of the eyes? Hello?!? It was staring at me right in the face the whole time.
My Dad had discharge instructions, but I’m not sure if he didn’t understand them or if he was simply just being non-compliant. It was possibly a combination of both since he didn’t know how to speak, read, and write in English and all the discharge papers were written in English. I translated what was written on the discharge papers, but when has an adult ever listened to a child/teenager? He eventually became sick again and ended up being hospitalized a second time. During this whole time, I was more focused on school and just trying to be a normal teenager. I think I was in a state of denial as well. I just wanted a normal life where I could grow up like any other teenager and not have to worry about things like this.
My Dad was discharged a second time with instructions again. He didn’t take his medications or follow the strict diet that he was supposed to be on. He was supposed to decrease his intake of sodium and protein. Once again, I don’t know if he didn’t understand the instructions or if he was just being stubborn. Either way, he grew worse and worse. He now had pitting edema of the lower extremities. I remember my neighbor’s wife being a nursing student so we asked her to come by and look at my Dad. She took one look and told him he needed to follow his diet otherwise he’ll get hospitalized again.
As you probably predicted, my Dad was hospitalized a third time. This time, the ambulance took him to a different hospital. This hospital is known for being a teaching hospital. When I say teaching hospital, I mean a hospital where there are a lot of resident doctors as well as nursing students. My Dad was assigned to a resident doctor named Happy. His liver by this time was failing on him. During his stay, he eventually was diagnosed with hepatic encephalopathy. Hepatic encephalopathy is basically when the brain starts to have problems functioning normally because the liver is no longer able to remove toxins such as ammonia from the blood and the buildup eventually reaches the brain. His mental status had deteriorated due to this and bilateral wrist restraints were applied because he became combative. Once again, as a teenager, you don’t comprehend these things and you’re thinking, what kind of a hospital is this?!? Why are they torturing my Dad and tying him up?
Throughout this whole hospitalization, I had just gotten my Driver’s License and had to drive my Mom back and forth to the hospital because my Dad had always been the one to drive her around. I was now taking my Father’s place as well as all the responsibilities he had before he got sick while trying to have a “normal” life. My Mom always tried to bring ethnic foods from home for my Dad. She was stubborn and set in her ways as well. The doctor had said no sodium in his diet, but she insisted on putting salt in his food. She said, “How can you eat something that has no flavor and is bland?” I told her not to put sodium in his food and she wouldn’t listen so when we got to the hospital, of course the doctor said he couldn’t have the food she brought. She was quite upset over this, but I had already told her not to bring it. Of course, during this time, I couldn’t explain to her why he couldn’t have salt in his food because I simply didn’t have the knowledge. As child/teenager with no medical background and put in an overwhelming situation, I didn’t think to ask all of these questions. All I wanted to do was follow the Doctor’s instructions and orders in a desperate attempt to get my dad well.
One day while visiting, Happy notified us that my Dad had signed a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) form. When she explained what that was, I was really mad at him. I couldn’t understand why he would want to sign something like that. I was convinced that he was not in the right state of mind to be making such a decision. How dare he sign a DNR? Everyone was there at his bedside visiting him and he had tears in his eyes. I had never seen my Dad cry before in my entire life. My Dad was never an affectionate or emotional person. He was crying and told us that he loved us very much and that was when I just knew that he wasn’t going to make it. I could tell he knew too because he had never said those three words before until now.
Next day at home, the phone rang and I picked it up. It was Happy on the other end apologizing for the sad news of my Dad passing away during the night. In a way, I knew he wasn’t going to make it, but hearing the news from Happy was still a shock. My first reaction was to immediately hang up on her because I didn’t want to hear or believe what she had just said. Happy? Happy my ass! All I could think was how ironic that was that her name was Happy yet she was delivering unhappy news. Maybe if I pretended that I never got the call, I could wake up from this nightmare. Happy called again and this time, someone else picked up and repeated what she had told me the first time around. We all immediately started crying and went to the hospital to see him for the last time. A white sheet was draped over his body and it was the first time I had ever seen a dead body.
There were so many unanswered questions that I had when my Dad was sick and hospitalized, the nurses were always nice, my love for learning about the human body, and as well as wanting to be able to go into a profession where you can help others get well and return to their families just stuck with me. I think just the whole experience of going through what I did made me want to so badly try and prevent other families having to go through what my family went through. I wanted to be at the bedside and be there for them. I wanted the chance to advocate for them, to explain to the patients and their families in Layman’s terms what is happening during their hospital stay. I think sometimes medical staff tend to forget that non-medical people do not understand medical terminology so things should be explained in Layman’s terms. Nothing is scarier than being in the hospital and not understanding what is going on when you do not understand medical terminology and there is a language barrier. I wanted to change the experience for my patients and their families. I wanted to be able to make a difference in someone’s life by becoming an RN.
After going through nursing school, this was when a lot of my unanswered questions were finally answered. Just learning about the pathophysiology of some of the conditions really helped me in understanding why my Dad had restraints on and had to be on a strict diet. I was also assigned to the hospital where my Dad passed away and I wasn’t sure how I was going to react to this until I stepped foot onto the units. It is one of my favorite hospitals because like I said, it is a teaching hospital and everyone is so professional and patient about teaching the resident doctors and student nurses to become the best they can be. The hospital also has a lot of the latest technology and a lot of interesting cases that you would never see at the other hospitals. I think also being assigned for my rotations at this hospital gave me closure. After my Dad had passed away, I never returned to that hospital. Only bad memories came from thinking about that hospital, but then after I got assigned there, everything was okay. In addition, I finally understood why my Dad signed the DNR. If you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sick, you’ve been in and out of the hospital for a while now. You’ve been slowly dying for about 6 years. How much more suffering could he have handled? That was cruel and selfish of me to want him to stay around even though he was sick, but I didn’t know better since I was too young.
Let me also just say that Nurses don’t get enough credit for all that they do. I was unaware of this when I first started nursing school and then found out that there is so much more to nursing than what I previously thought! Nursing school totally opened my eyes on the profession itself as well as understanding and treating the patient as a whole. There is nothing better than being there for someone in a time of need, being able to apply your critical thinking skills as well as the skills you learned to help someone, and possibly changing the outcome for someone who is suffering. I have nothing, but respect for all of the Nurses out there and highly recommend anyone who wants to make a difference to become a Nurse. 🙂 We need more caring and compassionate people in this world.
P.S. I shared with you this very personal story of mine not to only answer the question of why I became an RN, but to also give hope to those who have lost a loved one. It is extremely painful and I know and understand what you’re going through, but just remember that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. This person may not be there physically, but will always be alive and well in your heart and memories. My Dad never got to see me graduate from high school, but I felt his presence as I was walking across the stage to be pinned for completing Nursing school. They say that nurses are angels in disguise and to that I say my very own Guardian Angel in disguise is my Dad.
