Nursing †Statement of Purpose Essay

In life sentence there is the path imagined & the path followed. The difference amidst these two paths is our experience. My experience on the path to becoming a Registered treat began in the fall of 1998 at West Chester University. For as long as I could recall I was possessed of an unmitigated passion for fetching distribute of others. This passion, I was sure, this joy I found in constituent others that seemed so some(prenominal) a part of who I was, would propel me finished my undergraduate classes. In four years, I assumed, I would have a degree, would be starting a career as a original nurse. This, the path imagined, was so clear. Then there was the path followed. The idea that life is not to be lived for selfish ends but for the principal benefit and adjutant bird of others was instilled in me by my kindles, both of whom immigrated to the United States from Vietnam at the close of the war. They arrived with no money and but a few sets of clothing. What they lacked, h ow eer, in material wealth they compensated for with devotion to each other, to their children, and to those traditions that they brought with them from Vietnam.Born in America, but brocaded in a traditionally Vietnamese household, there were umpteen points of friction. My parents a good deal kept me home on the weekends to help with chores. A great vehemence was placed on academics and a great much of my day-to-day life story was scheduled or spoken for with verboten my input. Admittance to West Chesters Universitys nursing program was predicated on the completion of several pre-requisite courses. Their completion, however, did not procure immediate acceptance into the program. No longer bound to those traditions of family which had seemed so overwhelming, imperious even, and suddenly unable to move forward in my studies, I drifted into the to a greater extent than social aspects of college. My grades reflect this a person who has done so much correctly, so much for others, suddenly unable to help herself. Frustrated, I dropped out of college in the summer of 1999. Things had changed. I had changed. After the freedom of college, I couldnt live at home. I left. Id scarcely unpacked my long bags from the hospital when the pass started. I changed formulas. Changed milks. Changed everything a new mother would esteem to change. I would have changed the wallpaper if I thought itd even off a difference.My son, eight days old, would not stop vomiting. The surgery herequired to clear the catgut obstruction took expert over 4 hours. The doctors told me that the obstruction, his developing it so early, could have long-term repercussions, could mean more bowel obstructions in the future. Was this the path? I made a phone call. I moved back home with my parents. I got a part- era trade to help pay a share of their mortgage. In turn they looked by and by my son so I could attend school full-time. When I returned to school, this time to Delaware County lodge College, in 2003 it was as a single mother with a two-year old boy and the understanding that though the path had sure enough changed, it was still my path to make. I had received my certification as a medical assistant, but immediately came to realize the social functions many constrictions. The opportunities to create quality relationships with patients & to positively affect their care seemed so minimal, so fleeting. Filing charts, taking vital signs, these things were certainly important, but in the role of medical assistant it was all so abstract.I am eer thirsty for have sexledge, but more importantly, for understanding. I knew then more than ever that I wanted to take on the role of the Registered Nurse. I transferred from Delaware County Community College to Drexel University and was immediately accepted into the nursing program. The path was clearing, I thought. That the obstructions would return just as he was entering Kindergarten and I my first semester at Drexel Un iversity was postal code I could have ever known but still adjure I had. My son had gone years without issue, had grown happy and healthy. When the vomiting returned it was with a vocabulary. My son now cried tears of hungry and of pain. There were more hospital admissions, more surgeries, more bends in the path. In the in the meantime my employer began requiring a strict part-time schedule. It was my job or my education. I knew, though, that the financial stress, however great, would be, could only be, short-lived.I was devoted to my son & my family, to my education & my happiness. In my third year at Drexel the path was straightening, clearing. I received an stretch out from Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania to work on the Neuroscience Unit as a Nurse Extern. The value of such an opportunity was incalculable. I did not know anyone in Philadelphias major hospital networks or health care facilities. I could rub no shoulders or scratch no backs. I knew, though, after so many clinical hours, that that was precisely where I wanted to be, that my ambition was to be a bedside nurse. Travelarrangements, however, prevented me from being able to give to the hospital and so it was instead arranged that I would work at Penn Presbyterian Medical Center as a Pool Nursing Assistant.I worked hard and in doing so tried to let my work ethic, my ontogenesis knowledge base, my approachable nature, communicate what so few words screw passion. True passion. The passion that propelled me as a single mother to issue the best for my son while honoring my parents. The passion that grounded me, that centered & focus me, humbled me, and that, at last, brought me to the end of the path imagined. My degree, my job as a Registered Nurse in the Penn Presbyterian Coronary Care Unit, my sons health, my parents love these were the manifold ends of single path, my path, a path I walk with passion.