Why do we do what we do?

Do you ever feel like a glorified waitress?
I sometimes ponder why we put up with all the baloney. (I'm being diplomatic and politically correct here, in an attempt not to offend those who don't yet know me well enough. Please substitute the actual term I'd like to use in place of "baloney"... use your imagination.)

And does the baloney outweigh the reward?

Would it make a difference if it did?

Men and women enter nursing careers with astoundingly different perspectives and motivations. Certainly, there are enough different nursing fields and forms of practice to satisfy our diverse expectations, but why do we so often "stick it out" in challenging and mediocre work environments?

Honestly, I don't have a global answer for that one and would not presume to venture a guess.

More about the baloney later, I'm sure, but here are a few of the reasons I continue to show up for my shifts (occasionally with bells on):

1. I have to admit, it feeds my family.

2. Most of my co-workers are admirable (if often inexperienced... yes, I do work nights), and we've worked together through those nights from hell, laughed at each others' nutty 5am slap-happy stories, smiled and cried with each other over the joys and tragedies in our personal lives, and managed to keep the unit from completely falling apart at any point to date.

3. The sense of pride and accomplishment when new nurses look to me for help and mentorship... then over time transform into "experienced" nurses themselves.

4. There's nothing quite like the adrenaline rush of a scary or fast delivery. There are those of you who know, it is indescribable.

5. The absolutely unforgettable moments I've spent with close friends who've asked me to be present at the birth of their children, which brings me to perhaps the overwhelming reason I stay:

6. (pause while I sit here and struggle to begin...) I'm having difficulty putting this one into words, but I want to convey my understanding and acceptance of the fact that what I do (help bring babies into the world) is utterly miraculous. I am present at those moments in a family's life that bring both the most anticipated and the most unexpected joy. I also stand by as families experience the most heartbreaking and unspeakable grief. To witness these pivotal moments is both a privelege and a burden, but is definitely one of the most influential factors in my faithful return to the unit, week after week, year after year.

I'll close on that note. There are perhaps innumerable other reasons to "stick it out". Sometimes, it feels as though they are not enough.