THE WARM WATER RUSHES out of the showerhead in a steady stream, colliding just right with my aching muscles. Twelve hours in the hospital working the night shift has made me unbelievably exhausted. It’s twelve in the afternoon and I haven’t even hit my bed yet. I have one month left of school before I get my LPN. And believe me when I say I look forward to when I graduate and get my LPN because school and studying will be eliminated and I can fill that time with sleep and some sort of a social life. I plan to take a year off to work at the hospital before I go back to nursing school to get my RN degree.
I also look forward to having more time to focus on church and my scripture studies. I live for my faith and believe more than anything it has gotten me where I am today— nearly done with this part of my education, a beautiful family who supports me, my mother’s recovery, and the promised future to help others who need to be served—life is right on track.
I hear a tap on the bathroom door, followed by my mama’s voice seeping through the closed door. “Sadie, I made lunch and Kate called the house, she said she was gonna stop by soon. She said you didn’t answer your phone.” I remember I turned my phone off at the start of my shift, I totally spaced turning it back on. The hospital where I’m doing my clinical with Dr. Bailer has offered me a full-time internship after graduation and it’s my dream. It’s the hospital I’ve been working so hard to get into since before I even started school.
“Thanks, mama. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” I holler over the sound of running water. I finish washing myself up then turn the water off. Reaching for my robe I wrap myself up, banding the towel around my wet hair. I open the door that leads me straight into my bedroom and I’m met with my mother’s sweet round face. Her longer brown hair is pulled up and out of her face, showing off her barely there wrinkles and her blue eyes that mine resemble. I have my daddy’s blond hair, but my pouty lips and the light sprinkle of freckles on my nose and cheeks match my mother.
“I was just in here to put your freshly washed scrubs away. How was your shift?” She is kind for asking and if I were any more tired I would have sent her away, but I still have just enough energy to enjoy some small talk with her.
I move to sit on the edge of my bed to apply my moisturizer. “It was long. I got to help two gunshot victims. That was a first.”
“Wow, I remember my first time removing a bullet. I thought I was going to pass out. I almost considered a career change.” My mother’s sweet southern charm coats each of her words and I smirk at the sound. I love the story of how my mama and papa met and had mama changed her career I wouldn’t be here and that story wouldn’t exist.
My dad was an ER doctor in South Carolina and my mama had just graduated with her RN and was working her first year at the same hospital as papa. They met soon after she started and after a few rotations together, my dad knew he needed to make mama his. She couldn’t say no to his gentlemanly ways and southern charisma. My papa really is a sweet man, with more patience than a saint and he always trusts the good in people—giving them the benefit of the doubt, if you will. He’s the greatest example of a godlike man and I hope to marry someone as profoundly kind as him some day.
Shortly after they started dating—three months after to be exact—papa married mama and within a year they had me. We stayed in South Carolina until I was sixteen. That’s the age I was when mama was diagnosed with breast cancer. The memory feels just as new to me as if I found out yesterday. I’m nineteen now and she has been cancer free and in remission for two years, but I still remember the fear and the pain we all endured during that time.
We left South Carolina to come to Portland where they have some of the best world known cancer treatment facilities and doctors. Between them and our good Lord and Savior, mama was healed and continues to be healed, which is another reason why I live and breathe for my faith.
“Surprisingly mama, it isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t say,” she says matter-of-factly, putting my scrubs in the closet.
“Yeah. Hey mama, I can put that away. You should go relax.” She’s too good to me. Papa and her decided she needed to quit working after the cancer. Even though she’s in remission, she still tires easily. We want her to be able to heal fully before she attempts to work again.
At first she hated not working, but now we think she secretly likes being the stay at home mama. For years she was scared she would leave us and miss out on all the monumental moments in our lives. But once she started staying home, the little things, such as cooking for her family and putting my laundry away, made her feel like she was serving a greater purpose—at least that’s what she says.
Sometimes I get a tad peeved because it makes me feel like an adolescent, but then I see the happiness it brings her to be the homemaker taking care of us and that all fades away.
“I know, but I’m not tired and you just worked your little butt off. Get some rest. I told Kate that you were gonna take a nap before she came over. She said she gets off work at five, then she’ll be here. Supper will be ready by then.” She walks up to me and cradles my face, looking me over with a prideful smile. “We’re so proud of you, baby.” Leaning in she kisses my forehead, then leaves the room.
“Love you. Thanks, mama.”
I love my family, I love my life, and I love that God has kept us close and kept me on the straight and narrow. My parents needed something great to happen to them and me going to nursing school and chasing my dreams is exactly what they needed. I needed it, too.
The medical field wasn’t something I planned to go into until mama got sick. Deciding then to dedicate my life to healing people like her. I watched her go through the pain every day and felt so helpless, like there was nothing I could do. So the medical field was where I decided to flourish. My main goal was to become someone to help others.
Climbing into my warm bed, I say a silent prayer and within seconds my heavy eyes close and I’m gone in a deep slumber.
§