I have been trying, in one way or another, most of my adult life to do this job, failing at this job, or recovering from failed attempts to do this job.
The reasons to stop trying to do this are obvious. But I continue to think that this is where I belong, so I won't quit.
And I am not the 21-year-old who couldn't be a Hospital Corpsman, or the 36-year-old who couldn't look after the residents of an assisted-living facility. Or the 45-year-old who couldn't get through nursing school. I am 49, not quite 50, and I am just going to find out whether I can be an acute-care CNA at Good Samaritan.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Be here now."\\
1 comment:
That sounds like my career trajectory as a writer, except I don't have to pay for formal training.
We need care givers. Sometimes the way to succeed is to redefine success. Hang in there.
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