Nurse life.
When you marry a nurse, you marry their job.
There are a lot of missed opportunities. Missed events with the kids, missed meals with the family.
Deep down you have to accept it. You realize that THIS is their calling. THIS is their passion.
As my nurse sleeps, I quietly clean the house for her, do the dishes, prepare meals, do laundry, so when she is leaving the house an hour before she has to be at her pre-shift, she has a clean home, clean scrubs, and somewhat sane children, and a meal ready to go for her.
Nurses are superstitious in many ways. Mine wears the worst socks only to taunt the nursing gods. Yet she makes it through each night, talking about her ‘dumpster fires’ and ‘sh*t shows.’ Then, there is the question I ask: ‘What damn socks are you wearing?’ (They say ‘ringmaster of the sh*t show.’) I remind her I’m going to burn them in some ritualistic way to please the nursing gods.
