Senator Walsh’s Facebook page appears to have had all visitor posts wiped, but this is the text of what I just posted there: Senator Walsh, seeing a glaring lack of visitor posts on your page, I strongly suspect no one will see this post, either, but if you read it, that will be enough. I am a nurse. It is all I have wanted to be since I turned 12 and my mother became a nurse. Her journey started when she applied for school and was wait listed. Before the days of cell phones, she was working as a waitress in a restaurant 45 minutes from our home. My dad called her there at 9pm to tell her she needed to leave her shift early and come home because she was accepted into the program and needed to be in class the next morning.
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I say it was her journey, because it literally was. We lived in a small town in rural Maine and her classes and clinical rotations were a 2 hour drive away. She typically left at 5am for an 8am class, then stayed the night at my grandparents’ home. She was gone for 4 days at a time, then came home to study, write papers, and work a double shift as a waitress. Even used her excessive drive time listening to the classroom lectures she recorded. Upon her graduation, she started working at a hospital an hour drive away and bought the first NEW car she had ever owned. She worked her way up from floor nurse to charge nurse to supervisor to department head to administrator.
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When she retired, she became a consultant, helping other departments and hospitals overcome challenges of varying sorts. At 75, she now volunteers on several community boards of directors, and volunteers as a nurse in the refugee camps in Lesvos, Greece. She also enjoys playing bridge, but I assure you, she has never done so at work. And I see Retired nurse under new management see grandkids for details floral shirt. When I completed nursing school, 25 years ago, I chose a different track and work in mental health. I will admit, I have, indeed played cards at work, primarily with young children, victims of abuse or neglect, hospitalized, sometimes far from home, with no idea when they might be able to see their families.
I have also played board games, basketball, kickball and dozens of other games with kids who, minutes before had bitten me, spit on me, punched me and raged their pain and anger at me. Primarily, I have been someone safe for them to target because they knew I would not hit back and would still like them when they felt completely unlikable. I now do the same in private practice, with adults. I’ve been doing this for long enough that some of my earliest clients have now found their way to me as adults. I don’t know that you have any comprehension of the mental and physical work this can entail. I have stayed late more times than I can count, to be sure that a despairing soul is someplace safe, that the compulsion to jump off the bridge doesn’t take over.