This is my first draft of my undergraduate admissions essay for the University of Washington. The prompt is: "Tell us a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it"
Constructive criticism is welcome!
Thanks
The cheery animals on the wall and the calm feeling I got as I entered the hospital was nothing like I had imagined when I applied for the Seattle Children's Hospital Nursing Camp. The summer before my senior year of high school, I shadowed nurses for three days.
The first day, a demonstration of a simulation surgery and tour of the immense hospital was followed by my first encounter with nurses outside of the doctor's office for my checkup: the IV team. The two ladies made me feel at home, which is hard to do for someone as reserved as myself. Walking back and forth from each area of the hospital made me realize what a strenuous job nursing is. Changing IV tubes and dressings was hard work, but the two women made their job seem so affable, as they chatted with every patient they worked with.
The second day, I missed my exit on the freeway, and my early morning commute turned into a panic as I tried to find my way to the hospital. Arriving late, I was greeted not with stern looks but with people that were happy I had made it. I shadowed a head nurse for my morning shift, and it became apparent how much scheduling there is to do. The third nurse was in the surgical unit, caring for only one patient. For some reason, a child only eight years old or so needed a kidney replacement. Because of the urgency, he had been given a kidney with a different blood type than his, and his body was having a rough time accepting it. The boy looked at me, wondering who I was and why a teenage girl was in his room. Seeing the pain in his eyes as he dilated his blood and being with the family as they cared for their son made me realize what a moment this was: these people were letting me, a complete stranger, see them overcoming their grief. Nurses must feel that all day long, but it was a touching moment to know that I will be in the memories of those people.
The last day of my interning, was definitely the most memorable. I was blessed with the opportunity to be in the hematology and oncology unit. Walking though the doors, which there were two sets of to keep patients healthier, I was scared. What do people going through dialysis and chemotherapy look like? Would something I say offend them? The first of three nurses that I observed in the unit acted like a doctor at checkups. She fixed PICC lines and asked how outpatient care was going. I even met a boy who was from my city, Issaquah! He reminded me of an old man, though he was only about nine years old. If Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh has a doppelganger, this boy is it. I then met Eric, someone my age, about to undergo surgery in his fighting of cancer; the surgery took spinal fluid from his spinal cord. Again, the feeling that I was being allowed to see this private moment of someone's life was surreal. I then followed Eric to his next nurse, where he received his chemotherapy. Focusing less on the nurses' job in tracking his intake and outtake, I struck a conversation with Eric and his mother. Seeming less worried with the treatment he was receiving, Eric asked me questions. We talked about college, career goals, and sports.
At the end of each day, all of the participants in the Nursing Camp debriefed on their experiences. The final day, I kept my experiences to myself, still in awe of the day. This essay is probably the most I have told anyone about my experiences, which in part, is selfish. Dry from overusing hand sanitizer, my hands felt worn. Never had I experienced so many things in so little time, and the feeling was so worth it.
Constructive criticism is welcome!
Thanks
The cheery animals on the wall and the calm feeling I got as I entered the hospital was nothing like I had imagined when I applied for the Seattle Children's Hospital Nursing Camp. The summer before my senior year of high school, I shadowed nurses for three days.
The first day, a demonstration of a simulation surgery and tour of the immense hospital was followed by my first encounter with nurses outside of the doctor's office for my checkup: the IV team. The two ladies made me feel at home, which is hard to do for someone as reserved as myself. Walking back and forth from each area of the hospital made me realize what a strenuous job nursing is. Changing IV tubes and dressings was hard work, but the two women made their job seem so affable, as they chatted with every patient they worked with.
The second day, I missed my exit on the freeway, and my early morning commute turned into a panic as I tried to find my way to the hospital. Arriving late, I was greeted not with stern looks but with people that were happy I had made it. I shadowed a head nurse for my morning shift, and it became apparent how much scheduling there is to do. The third nurse was in the surgical unit, caring for only one patient. For some reason, a child only eight years old or so needed a kidney replacement. Because of the urgency, he had been given a kidney with a different blood type than his, and his body was having a rough time accepting it. The boy looked at me, wondering who I was and why a teenage girl was in his room. Seeing the pain in his eyes as he dilated his blood and being with the family as they cared for their son made me realize what a moment this was: these people were letting me, a complete stranger, see them overcoming their grief. Nurses must feel that all day long, but it was a touching moment to know that I will be in the memories of those people.
The last day of my interning, was definitely the most memorable. I was blessed with the opportunity to be in the hematology and oncology unit. Walking though the doors, which there were two sets of to keep patients healthier, I was scared. What do people going through dialysis and chemotherapy look like? Would something I say offend them? The first of three nurses that I observed in the unit acted like a doctor at checkups. She fixed PICC lines and asked how outpatient care was going. I even met a boy who was from my city, Issaquah! He reminded me of an old man, though he was only about nine years old. If Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh has a doppelganger, this boy is it. I then met Eric, someone my age, about to undergo surgery in his fighting of cancer; the surgery took spinal fluid from his spinal cord. Again, the feeling that I was being allowed to see this private moment of someone's life was surreal. I then followed Eric to his next nurse, where he received his chemotherapy. Focusing less on the nurses' job in tracking his intake and outtake, I struck a conversation with Eric and his mother. Seeming less worried with the treatment he was receiving, Eric asked me questions. We talked about college, career goals, and sports.
At the end of each day, all of the participants in the Nursing Camp debriefed on their experiences. The final day, I kept my experiences to myself, still in awe of the day. This essay is probably the most I have told anyone about my experiences, which in part, is selfish. Dry from overusing hand sanitizer, my hands felt worn. Never had I experienced so many things in so little time, and the feeling was so worth it.
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