I Made It

I want to start this blog post by making it clear that I do not have the worst possible human experience. Not even close. There are unspeakable horrors going on in the world right now. I am well aware of that. However, today, I feel the need to share what I have overcome.

I was born to negligent, alcoholic parents. Growing up, my dad abused me (physically and sexually) and my mother was absent whenever she could be. My mother also struggled with drugs and bipolar disorder. My brother and I were left unattended to. My mother, when she did have us, left us alone for days at a time when she was on a bender. We bathed with rags and water bottles because she didn't pay the water bill. I had fleas several times from my father's house. It was in absolute ruin and squalor.

When they did provide some semblance of childcare, I was raped by the local preacher. He still walks free today. I see him mowing his grass sometimes. It's awful.

I lived with my great grandma at sixteen. I suffered my first miscarriage shortly after (yay, first consented sexual experience) and she was so ashamed of me. On her death bed, she told me how much I had let her down. When she passed, my witch of an aunt inherited the house and promptly kicked me out.

So, there I was, seventeen and homeless.

I spent the rest of my high school career crashing with friends and, eventually, living with my boyfriend at the time. I juggled a job, extracurriculars, and advanced college-level courses at the same time. I knew that if I wanted a shot at college, and breaking the abusive cycle, that I would have to work my ass off.

So I did.

I got a guaranteed spot in the University of Missouri-St. Louis' Nursing program. I gathered enough scholarships to fully fund my college career, but I was still without a place to live. I had enough to get me a dorm for my first year of college. After that, I was an RA for two years so that I would have a place to live. I hated depending on my boyfriend and his family. I knew that I needed to stand on my own.

Then, my boyfriend at the time, let his brother touch me while I was asleep. He was totally indifferent to this assault. It was then that I knew that I didn't want to be with him. His family was lovely, but he was an apathetic and lazy partner.

So, it was time to stand on my own.

I lost him and his family's support in one fell swoop. In that, I discovered something incredible.

I, in fact, could stand on my own.

I juggled four jobs at once, at one point. I was a float pool student nurse technician at the largest hospital in my area. I was a waitress. I was a Resident Advisor for the Nursing Living and Learning Community (which entailed taking on-call shifts and guiding baby nursing majors to success). I was an emergency department scribe, working directly with emergency medicine physicians to provide care. And, if this counts, I donated plasma twice a week (I've helped 248 patients with my donations throughout my college career).

It was . . . a lot. Between these jobs and my major, I barely had time to sleep. When I wasn't working, I was waking up at the asscrack of dawn for clinical. When I wasn't at clinical, I was studying for my courses vigorously.

I expected the feeling of dread to ease up when I had finally made it to university and nursing school.

It didn't.

The scholarships that I had, I had to maintain.

I had to continue being stellar. I had to continue having the best grades. I had to continue to be an exemplary student. I had to continue convincing my donors to invest in me.

All the while, everyone around me was concerned with partying and lavish vacations. Well, not everyone, but it sure felt like the majority. To them, college was all about having fun.

People like me weren't supposed to get this far.

To fail meant certain death.

I had nothing to fall back on. My own parents couldn't even make it to my white coat ceremony when I had finally made it into nursing school. I was on my own.

Then, somehow, I graduated and passed my NCLEX. I was a licensed Registered Nurse with her Bachelors in Science. I thought I had made it.

I didn't.

I despised floor nursing. It was hard on my body and I hated the politics of it. I started to, barely into my career, despise what I had fought so hard to achieve.

So I did the riskiest thing that I have ever done.

I went into a specialty that is severely neglected in school. If you're lucky, you get a day to shadow there. There is no course for this specialty.

I am, of course, talking about the operating room.

Fuck, I fell in love. This is what I'm meant to do. I loved showing up to work every day, but holy shit was it a learning curve. I learned to scrub and circulate at the same time. I learned to build rapport with surgeons. I learned about sterile/surgical technique.

It took me three long years to become any kind of comfortable with my skills. During this time, my mother committed suicide. It was difficult to progress in my skills while also contending with her death, but I did it.

Surgery has several different sub-specialties. They are all delicate in their own way. They require study and balance. I took my CNOR certification exam and passed it with a near-perfect score on the first try.

So, after my initial contract was up with my first OR job, it was time for a change. Then, I experienced psychosis (I have written extensively about this in other blog posts). It rocked my life and changed the trajectory of my career.

It felt like moving through water. Every movement had weight. Every thought felt like syrup, thickly and slowly moving in my brain.

I had to work to be good at my job again.

So I did.

Since then, I have worked in ten different OR facilities. I may not be a traveler, but I did find something that worked for me.

I am the youngest nurse in my regional float pool for surgery. I am only 27 and have the skills of those that are decades older than me. I float to eight different facilities and dozens of operating rooms.

I finally feel like I've made it. I am good at what I do. I have a schedule that works for me. I clear six figures at 27. I have a loving relationship with my husband. I have my health. I have a house. My car is paid off.

Now, I've made it.

I don't have to fight anymore.

To be here... That's what it's all been for. This, right now, is why I fought so hard.

I have overcome hurdle after hurdle after hurdle to finally, wonderfully, arrive here.

Somehow, I am a published author. I am an accomplished nurse. I am a loving wife.

I survived the horrors that broke me time and time again. I survived the uncertainty. I survived the shame. I survived the grief.

If you're reading this, then that is the greatest gift that you can ever give me. I found my voice, finally and arduously.

It's an honor for anyone to listen.