There is a kind of courage and wretchedness in an older woman
Who had signed up to be a nurse and “career-switches” into
The comfortless ropes of what a nurse is supposed to be.
Once again made student in the nursing class of youths
Though now no longer a youth in body and soul
She is told to blend in to the faculties of the sanguine,
Studiously study and sit for the exams
When brain neurons cease to fire as she tires.
Hard work at studies also meant
Harder work at hospital hardships
Nourished in complications and complaints
Along sweat that drips by tears.
And if her self in her past career is gone,
The uncertain future of a novice nurse prowls
Honest misery that mutates her liminality.
Oh, gone too is the tree of self-worth
Which steadies the woman throughout life.
Still, her eyes dream of a dream no nurse else had.
Not just to care for the sick and needy,
A rare gem was in her vision to bring joy
To the world spinning uncontrollably
Calling in nurses everyday to quit.
Is it a surprise? She had detailed plans
That designed new places for nurses to rest,
Prescriptions for patients when they weren’t sick,
So they could never really be ill
And if they would,
They were already healing. She knew
Geriatrics could see aging as beneficial to
Breed new respect to all of the living
That people loved being in their 50s to 80s
And health in its ups and downs was
Without shame from biomedical practice.
Don’t blame the mature woman for wanting to be a nurse,
In some of her slowness and lethargy
She is just doing her best without her youth.
Don’t be mad at her for being frumpy,
She is already changing the world.
- Vania (Vander)