I HAD A DREAM

Mercury Sphygmomanometer

 

In preparation for moving I discover the darndest things as I unpack dusty boxes stored in the attic untouched for years. This time it’s a mercury sphygmomanometer, packed in its original carton along with a “limited warranty” card that should have been filled out within ten days of purchase. Looks like I didn’t even open the box but put the blood pressure machine away for the day I would open my independent practice.

 

That would have been in the early 80s after I became a gerontological NP

and

after I worked in Chicago with inner city, underserved elderly

and

after I became frustrated with the lack of resources and left to become an administrator of an HMO

and

after I knew I didn’t want to be in administration

and

after going back to work as a nurse practitioner once again

and

after moving to three different states

and

after finally retiring from nursing . . .

I forgot my dream.

By Marianna Crane

After a long career in nursing--I was one of the first certified gerontological nurse practitioners--I am now a writer. My writings center around patients I have had over the years that continue to haunt my memory unless I record their stories. In addition, I write about growing older, confronting ageism, creativity and food. My memoir, "Stories from the Tenth Floor Clinic: A Nurse Practitioner Remembers" is available where ever books are sold.

6 comments

  1. Memories in old boxes…dreams unfulfilled…but a life fully lived without them. Ironies visible in hindsight. Aging…Butler’s time of life review. Fascinating. Love it.

    Like

      1. And some we don’t! That was beautiful and has given me a good bit to think on this AM as I ponder my own dreams. Thank you!

        Like

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