The greatest risk that I ever took was right after my husband passed away. No. It was not a month later, or a week later, and not a day later. On the long drive home down the 405 Freeway just knowing in my heart that he was one of the fatalities in the train accident, I made the deliberate decision that I would never work in the medical field again. That meant that I would not be going back to work at all. My children and other family members were supportive at first, until they weren’t. They thought that it would help me heal, or it would take my mind off of things. I was adamant about this. I was not going back to work. And, yes, I could make good money, I could go traveling, my life would be easier, but the missing piece that they continued to overlook was that I did not want to do it anymore.
My grandparents raised me. They were not thrilled to hear from the judge that if they wanted to take my sister, they would have to take me too. My grandmother was a brilliant chemist. She surrounded herself with doctors and other men in power. She had the strange belief that the husband should take a menial job, keep the house spotless and have dinner ready when she, the breadwinner came home. She wanted me to become a doctor and follow in her footsteps in the medical arena. My training began at fourteen years old as a Candy Striper at a local hospital. Then she put me in a nursing program immediately after my graduation. Later my husband encouraged me to continue my education and become a Physician Assistant. I was excellent at all of my jobs, but I knew that there was more for me.
This was not how I planned my life to go. I imagined myself as an artist, I loved to paint and draw, or write. At first I wrote poetry, and then short stories. It was what kept me sane during the craziness of my life. My other interest was photography. So there I was with the perfect opportunity to finally take a step and do something that was exactly for me. It has been years since that tragic life-altering day, and after trying my hand at each one of my different dreams, writing was the one that felt easy and natural.
The day that I started my blog in October of this year, was the most excited I have been in a long while. It took some time to figure out some of the technical things that I had no idea were involved in blogging. I admit that I was fearful of not being good enough, but the mission for my blog keeps me going. This place, right here on Word Press, is where I am opening my heart and sharing my most emotional moments with my son, Alex, as I watched him deteriorate before my eyes and voice the many mistakes that were made along his journey, and how we know that a change has to come for all chronically ill children and their parents. My medical knowledge remains entwined with what I am doing now. Everything I have done in my life has brought me here today.
I have a favorite quote: “Pay attention to what you are doing when you realize you have been distracted from your pain. It is your CALLING!”