Nurse Annie

Sometimes I think about leaving Corpus Christi - job offers that look pretty darn good, living closer to JP, not dealing with hurricanes---but then there are days like today. Annie is completing the 'book' phase of nursing school (which is right down the hallway from my office btw!) and is getting ready to enter the hospital phase of her training. She is doing her clinical exams in front of a nursing instructor and being tested. I'm her volunteer 'patient'. Last night, she practiced oscillating and otoscoping and working with pen lights and tuning fork --- while Audrey did the same thing to her toy Woody (from Toy Story) doll. You will be glad to know that Woody has good skin turgor - at least, that's what Audrey said. It was a blast.

So today I hopped over to the 'examination room' and Annie went through a physical assessment in front of a very nice nurse instructor. I tried not to make funny faces and be very serious while sticking out my tongue and stuff. It was not easy, but I succeeded. Section by section, her big smile, blue eyes and black high heels continued to ask me the right questions and run the stethoscope and other instruments where they belonged. A few little errors - just enough to show her human-ness and make me smile at the thought that soon she will be in scrubs doing these things on strangers -- who I know won't be able to miss her big smile and blue eyes. She passed with flying colors and made an A! We now start practicing muscles and joints and stuff - Phase Two as they call it.

Walking back to my office a car full of young women who took my class this summer drove by, waving and hollering "Dr Mac!" I realized, for the millionenth time how lucky I am...how incredibly blessed to get to watch and see and experience all that I do.

Annie and Audrey - the latter in utero - were there when I defended my dissertation and officially became Dr. McCollough. She - I mean they - helped to run my powerpoint for me in the conference room surrounded my committee members. Today, the tables were turned. I couldn't be more proud.

I love you Anne Marie. You are going to be an outstanding nurse, and already are an outstanding mother.