The other day I was reading through our local newspaper and came across an article that said the government is urgently looking for students to enrol in healthcare – especially in the Eastern Cape. Without putting the paper down I said to my husband in a mumbling tone: “Maybe I should become a nurse.” Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but I honestly do think that there is something seriously wrong if you don’t battle with the inner-conflict-of-career-change every now and then.
Without expecting a reaction, as this conversation has had many topics before (maybe I should become a fire-fighter, or a teacher, or a hairdresser…the list really goes on and on) my husband actually replied: “Why a nurse?” I read him bits of the article and he argued that I would have to study for at least another four years, and I said I don’t mind, and then he said this and I said that. After a while of buts and ands, he asked me: “Why? Why a nurse?” “Well,” I started, “I just want to make a difference in someone’s life.” He tried: “But you are making a difference in people’s lives.” While disagreeing, I shook my head: “Making things pretty does not change someone’s life. Well, I do make their lives prettier, but not better. I want to make someone’s life better.” Nonchalantly he stood up, picked up my coffee mug and said: “You give me morning hugs, and that makes my life better.”