Everything you said rings true, Ann. My mother was an RN, back in the day. It was how she met my father, when his father was in the hospital on my mother's floor. She worked (that I remember) ER, orthopedics, burn unit, oncology, and at least one other floor. She left the hospital after I was born, but returned after about 20 years.

She said the burn unit was the worst. Every patient hates the guts of every nurse, because seeing a nurse means they are about to go through searing, exploding, unbelievable pain. Every time. I don't think she lasted a year on that floor, but then, I'm not sure many nurses did.

She left the hospital to work as a nurse at a retirement home. When she started she was one of two nurses; as the staff expanded, she became lead nurse, then head of nursing (role she created), and eventually (after going back to school for her masters — only one in the family) she ended up as VP of Health Care for the multi-site retirement complex that the company had evolved into. But she would go into "nurse mode" in an instant when she felt she needed to.

Oh, and she was the school nurse (before she went back to the hospital when my sister and I left home) at our high school — while my sister and I were there! My mother moved on after two years because she "felt like she learned too much" about her kids. Nothing to learn about me (no dates, no girlfriends) so I can only imagine what she heard about my sister. 😉 I did get some good (anonymized) stories about classmates years later.

Thank you for your service, dear lady! 💚💚💚