If you will, come with me on a journey in time. The day is September 11th, 2001. Many of us remember it vividly. Do you remember the shock and fear in the air that was almost palpable? We knew life would never be the same again. But then, do you remember the people who ran into the burning buildings to rescue those inside, and the people who chose to crash their own plane to save innocent lives on the ground? And then later, those who joined our nation’s military, knowing our country was headed for war? They were, and still are, some of our nation’s most remarkable heroes.
Fast-forward 20 years to 2021, and another war was raging, but this time the war wasn’t against terrorists, but against a tiny virus, smaller than a grain of sand, and invisible to the naked eye. Again, there was shock and fear, and we knew life would never be the same again. But we soon discovered that the real enemy wasn’t the virus. It was the unknown. We were fighting to keep hope and unity alive in the face of despair and blame, because this seemed to be destroying lives faster than the virus was. While most of the world stayed inside, you came out. You walked towards the front lines of the war on the pandemic by enrolling in nursing school. I don’t know if you realize how remarkably brave that was, especially considering some of the horror stories we heard that were coming out of the hospitals. I don’t know if I would have done the same. Like the heroes of September 11th, you are my heroes. Thank you.
When you took my class, I often shared with you what I affectionately called, “Rita’s Blunders.” If you’ll remember, some of them were real doozies. I didn’t share them out of self-deprecation, but in hopes that by sharing some of my worst mistakes and humiliations in nursing, that perhaps you won't repeat them, and in some way it will help me redeem myself from those mistakes.
May I share one more of Rita’s blunders? I’ve shared portions of this with some of you.
Many of you know that I come from a large family of nurses and doctors. I had big shoes to fill when I became a nurse, and I certainly didn’t want to be the first to bring shame to my family’s extensive legacy in medicine. I was determined to do things right. I was starry-eyed with idealism. I wanted to be perfect. Maybe some of you can relate.
Fast-forward a few years again. The year was 2017. I had been a nurse for 14 years and the fire that had been lit when I entered the nursing field was now only a small flicker. It was nearly extinguished. I was looking into other career paths, seriously considering walking away from nursing forever. I was tired, discouraged, and disillusioned. Tired of the 12-hour night shifts. Tired of swollen legs, catty nurses, and perpetually feeling like a zombie, even on my days off. Discouraged that I always felt so inept and like the village idiot among my coworkers. Disillusioned to feel like most days I was waiting tables for ungrateful restaurant patrons rather than saving lives. Now, I know some of you can relate.
As I contemplated new career paths, I took a job in a long-term care facility to help pay the bills. Honestly, it wasn’t a job I was excited about. In fact, the only reason I took it was because it fit my family’s schedule. This time though, I did something different as I started my new job. I simply surrendered. I let go of my idealism and my need to be seen as perfect. I silenced the cruelest critic I knew- the voice inside my own head. I leaned into the imperfect, messy, and sometimes frustrating nature of nursing because imperfect, messy, and frustrating is what you’ll inevitably get any time you work closely with other humans.
In surrendering and allowing the world around me to be imperfect, I discovered something astonishing. It was actually quite beautiful. It was like a veil had been lifted from my eyes,and I could see a world of beauty and wonder. I saw it in the lines and wrinkles on my patient’s faces. But I now saw that they weren't simply lines and wrinkles, they were roadmaps of their lives. What I had once heard as complaining and long-winded stories, I now heard as the beckoning call of people long forgotten by society who simply wanted to be heard and seen- not unlike you and me- to know that their life still mattered. I watched the tender, at times, angelic ways my co-workers cared for their precious patients. I watched the last breath escape my patient’s bodies in their sacred final moments of life- sometimes surrounded by family, sometimes with no one else but me. I was watching the miracle of human life. But most importantly, I realized it wasn’t miraculous because it was perfect, but because it was simply human. I realized that very little separated me from my patients. Seeing and loving them as they were gave me permission to see and love myself, and to grant myself grace. I hope nursing does the same for you.
As I speak of surrender, I’m not implying a surrender to mediocrity. Far from it. Set a bar for yourself and keep it high. But strive simply for daily improvement, rather than perfection.
Here’s the thing… you’re going to make mistakes. I promise, you will. If you’re like me, you'll make lots of them. And then when you do, simply recognize them honestly, learn from them, improve, forgive yourself, and then move on.
So often, we hear people say that they strive to “Live with no regrets.” But let's pause and unpack this. This philosophy might not be all it's chalked up to be. In fact, I don't believe it should be our goal nor is it achievable. What does "no regrets" really mean? I love what Brene Brown said about regrets. She said, "No regrets" doesn't mean living with courage, it means living without reflection. To live without regret is to believe you have nothing to learn, no amends to make, and no opportunity to be braver with your life. I believe that what we regret most are our failures of courage, whether it’s the courage to be kinder, to show up, to say how we feel, to set boundaries, to be good to ourselves. For that reason, regret can be the birthplace of empathy. When I think of the times when I wasn’t being kind or generous—when I chose being liked over defending someone or something that deserved defending—I feel deep regret. Regrets about not taking chances have made me braver. Regrets about shaming or blaming people I care about have made me more thoughtful. Sometimes the most uncomfortable learning is the most powerful.”
Perhaps it’s this lack of reflection and empathy that is the reason so many nurses seem to be hemorrhaging out of healthcare, and moving into other fields that require less vulnerability. Perhaps if we embraced regret and the imperfect nature of dealing with ourselves and others, we would strive to keep improving rather than beating ourselves up for falling short. Because really, isn’t every today tomorrow's rough draft?
By the time I left that job, I had lots of regrets. There are so many things I wish I had done differently, but it was the same vulnerability and authenticity that led to my regrets that also preceded the quiet, magical moments I spoke about earlier. I wouldn’t give up those moments for a lifetime of no regrets.
Do you remember how after clinicals I would ask you, “Where was the magic?” and we would take turns sharing where we saw it? It was to remind us- to remind me- to look for the beauty that hides in the invisible people and places that we often overlook in the busyness of being a nurse.
I’ll tell you where I saw the magic every day. I saw it in the swan, the peace, the captain’s helm, the flamingo, the key, the angel’s wings, the unicorn, the umbrella, the pearl, the crown, the owl, and the star. I saw it in each of you.
No matter how much the rigors of the past year may have left you feeling beaten down, caused you self-doubt, and landed you in regrets- there is something intrinsically unique that only you bring to this world. Thank you for sticking out the past year.
So, here are the main lessons that the last 19 years of blunders in my sometimes stellar (but usually less-than-stellar) nursing career has taught me.
Take the magic that’s in you and with it, have regrets. But try to learn from them quickly because the sooner you realize you are wrong, the less time you’ll have to spend being wrong. Be unfailingly kind, even when it isn't reciprocated. View yourself with the same compassion you view others, and forgive yourself deeply. Steer clear from people who gossip, even if the gossip isn't about you. Double-check the blood sugar before you give the insulin. Sometimes crying with someone, without saying anything at all, is the most powerful thing you could ever say. Live with integrity, even in the small things- especially in the small things. Remember that no one can make you feel inferior without your consent- don’t give them that consent. If life requires that you drink from the bitter cup, do so without becoming bitter yourself.
...And this is the main lesson I learned: I am always the student, only sometimes the teacher.
Words are far too inadequate to communicate how proud I am of you. Thank you for being my teachers too.