A son's perspective

This blog post is an original post written by Christopher Berry, whose mom has been an RN for almost twelve years. This is his perspective of the work his mother does, and how it has affected his life.

 "It was a lot of poop" my mother said as we all sat around the dinner table eating chicken and dumplings. "It took me a lot longer than usual to clean him up, but I was able to get him showered and back in bed without much problem." We smiled and laughed a little, but continued eating our dumpling-filled soup as if all was normal. Because it was normal. While most would find this kind of conversation at the dinner table rude, disgusting, and outright horrid, this was normal for my family. And it's probably normal for any children whose mother is an RN.

I remember when she was still in nursing school, my mother would have her study group friends come over to our house to study. None of us kids minded that, 'cause they were some of the nicest people we had ever met. One of her friends even bought us all Christmas presents one year, and in exchange for their nice visits and heartfelt gifts, my siblings and I would volunteer to be their 'practice dummies', which included anything from quizzing each other of where different body parts where located, pointing at our bodies as they guessed, or even having us lay flat and act dead as they lightly demonstrated to each other the proper way to perform CPR.

But I didn't mind: in fact, I was more than happy to help. Obviously, one reason for that being that I'd get lots of attention from 5 or 6 college students. But I also enjoyed helping out because I was learning to realize that this wasn't just my mom's study group, or my mom's college work, or my mom's nursing career. It was my family's. A nurse's work doesn't just happen at the hospitals or clinics. It happens in the home as well.

My siblings and I have gotten hurt on countless occasions, only to have our mother calmly and skillfully evaluate the wounded area, and we weren't her only 'patients' she would have at home. Our neighbors knew my mother was a nurse, and so she would often have a knock at the door and find a worried mother with her sick child, or a man who cut his finger cooking dinner and didn't know if he needed stitches. With all the visits my mother has received at our home over the years, we could justifiably hang a sign on our front door reading "Clinic Hours: Always".

My mother, Lisa, has now been an RN for almost 12 years. She loves her job, and I don't think she's ever doubted that she loves it. Some might argue that being an RN would make family life a little more crazy and stressful, and I would agree with them. But that's what has made our lives better. My mom doesn't just heal wounds and save lives. She raises 4 children (5 if you count my dad) and I couldn't be more grateful for her.