Posts Tagged "America"

A Right and A Responsibility!

Posted by on Nov 4, 2014 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts |

This is a column I wrote for the Newberry Observer back in 2010. It is applicable for today! Enjoy! I am so excited for November 2nd to get here, I can’t hardly wait! It is, after all one of my favorite things in life. On November 2nd I get to go stand in line, get my ballot, go into my private little booth—how exciting is that—and making sure no one sees what I am marking. I get to have my say.   The thing is, I’m not just excited for November 2nd because of the present dissatisfaction with the direction in America and our government. I am excited because this is something that I was raised to deem important. In my family voting was never questioned. It was something you did because you were an American. It is, after all our right and our responsibility.   When we are given such a huge gift, such as freedom we are then responsible to take care of that gift. This was not preached to us but lived out. My grandparents and parents got excited about voting. They paid attention to the news. They discussed politics. Then, they made the best decision they could and they voted.   I remember a conversation between my Grandpa Jones and my Dad. Grandpa was probably in his early 80’s and he was concerned about the direction of the country. He commented that he just wanted to leave a better place for his grandchildren. He wondered if he had done enough to ensure that. He was born in 1905 so he had seen hard times. He had seen good government leaders and bad ones. He had voted a lot. But he still felt the responsibility. Overheard conversations like that one really make an impression.   I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to vote. When Ronald Reagan died I sat on my couch and cried while I watched the news coverage. My niece sat with me and watched me cry. I could tell she didn’t understand what Aunt Miriam was so sad about. “Ronald Reagan was the first President I ever voted for,” I explained. “He was a real American hero.”   Even at her young age she understood. Her parents believe in voting too, you see. Now my nieces and nephews, several in their teens, are anxiously awaiting the day when they can vote.   One thing that is so amazing to me is that it doesn’t matter if you are rich, poor, black, white, red, brown, or yellow. If you are an American and 18 you can vote. Even if you are living in Thailand you can get an absentee ballot and vote. Why wouldn’t you?   It doesn’t matter if you live in South Dakota, South Florida, or South Carolina. You can live on the coast or in the forgotten middle of the country. You can live in Manhattan, New York or Manhattan, Kansas. You can be unemployed or the CEO of...

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Of Nurses and Politics. . .

Posted by on Oct 1, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 2 comments

Of Nurses and Politics. . .

Of Nurses and Politics. . . (This blog post is a repeat from 2012. However, considering the current events in America I believe it is timely!) I started my new job last week and I have two more days of corporate orientation. Then I get to start my “on the job training” in the ICU/CCU.   Since my official residence is still in South Carolina and I am a republican, I am voting this week.   Now, I realize there may be an apparent disparity between those two events, but I think not. I’ll explain why.   I started thinking about this last month when I finished my last week at Lexington Medical Center.  I was so, so, so glad to be done. But, I was desperately saddened. I was leaving “my peeps”. I’ve never called a group that before. For some reason—I’m unsure why—I bonded more than ever before with my coworkers. I think it may have been our differences.   The group that worked the night shift were from all over. There were some from the South, sure. But, there were some from the Midwest, the Northeast, the Philippines, Norway, and even one from that foreign-est of foreign places, South Dakota. But, that didn’t matter.   It also didn’t matter that we were of all different persuasions of religion and politics. There were ultra-conservative people, bleeding hearts, those who really didn’t have an opinion, and some in the middle. We were of every color, “red and yellow, black and white.”   We even had different styles of nursing. There were the “rule followers” who believed the policy is the ultimate document. There was the laissez faire, laid-back sort. There were the “Lone ranger” nurses who liked to do things themselves, and then there were the “it’s all more fun if we do it as a group” type.   Oh, there were differences. Differences of style, differences of personality, differences of beliefs, and even differences of opinion, otherwise called disagreements. Oh yes, there were disagreements.   BUT.   There was a unifying cause. There was something that trumped all of those differences and disagreements and that was what made us a team. The patient.   Nothing brings a team of nurses together like these words, “Call a Code.” Or even the slightly less terrifying, “I need help in here.”   When a patient is “crashing” the nurses come together and there is one goal, saving the patient. All differences are forgotten and they work as a team to make sure the patient survives. Maybe things aren’t done exactly like the “rule followers” would like. Maybe the “bleeding hearts” don’t get everything they would like. But, the patient gets their best group effort.   Here was my thinking as I finished at Lexington and now this week as I am being introduced to a new team. I was privileged to work in the midst of such a great and diverse group of nurses. I learned a lot from them, even...

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