I still remember my first patient. I’ll call her Marjorie. I was a senior in nursing school and the registered nurse I shadowed assigned me to her regularly.
It was around this time that nursing students began focusing on an area of specialty. Without a doubt, I already knew what areas interested me: geriatrics and neonatology. Not sure why, but I found the polar ends of the spectrum fascinating. And after meeting Marjorie, I discovered part of the reason why.
The routine was same every morning inside the assisted living facility. I gave her a warm greeting at her door. Performed a quick run through check of her heart and lung sounds, and took her blood pressure. And by then she would already begin to run her thin, frail fingers through her silver hair and ask, “Can you wash my hair? My son is coming to visit me today.”
“Of course.” I replied.
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