I'm a Doctor, Jim

Okay, maybe I'm not.  But to an adorable almost five year old, I am.  Or at least that's what she tells me when I patch her up.

Being a normal kid that plays outside she gets banged up sometimes.  Today she scraped her knuckle and came inside screaming that it was "an emergency!"  She then shoved her knuckle in my face.  I dodged it don't worry.  

I'm amazed that I can make her feel better by preforming first aid.  That is what we call it too.  She tells me that she needs first aid on whatever boo-boo she has and we go into the bathroom and wash it out together.  Then we dry it off and apply a band-aid.  The band-aid seems to be what seals the deal because once one of those suckers is on, she is fine.

Not bad for the daughter of a nurse.

I even thought I wanted to be a Nurse.  The thought had popped in my head after my dreams of being  Marine Biologist kind of fizzled.  Actually that dream never really got off the ground.  Although I did write an exceptional essay on the subject in the 8th grade.  Turns out I'm afraid of fish.  Really, I am.  I can't swim in water where I can not see my feet.  It sends me into a panic.  Which is weird to me because I basically grew up on a river.  I think in the end I just really liked dolphins.  Really what 8th grader doesn't?  But I had convinced myself that I could go into an entire occupation based on that love.  So needless to say that didn't work out.  So for about two months I thought I wanted to follow in dear ol Dad's footsteps and be a nurse.  Then I went to an orientation for an occupation school and was told I would have to dissect a pig.  Enter NopeVille here.  Standing there at the nursing booth I couldn't stomach it.  My Dad was pretty honest with me about the down and dirty side of nursing.  Knowing that I couldn't go into that field makes me all that much more appreciative of those who did.  I have been blessed with knowing quiet a few nurses personally and having a few great nurses.  I would rather have someone who loves it take care of me than someone like me who might throw up at the sight of a dissected animal.  

But that doesn't mean I can't rock applying a band aid!

As I sent Clover back outside to wear Granny out she shouted back "Thanks Doc"!  Obviously she thinks I did a pretty darn good job.