If a Best Friend is How You Count Yourself Lucky, How Did I Hit the Jackpot?
Sisters of the heart are what we are.
I first met Connie on Sept 1, 1970. We were in the graduating class of 1973 at St. Paul’s Hospital School of Nursing. At least, we hoped we would graduate.
We didn’t have any idea of what we were in for. I thought nursing was a profession where I was putting a hand on a fevered brow. Not sure what else I thought I would be doing (what do you mean empty a bedpan!!). Don’t forget I was a naive 18-year-old.
My friend was born in Italy, and I had an Italian father. Both of us had loving but rather strict upbringings. During our probation, her father didn’t allow her to stay in the hospital’s student nurse’s residence.
Most of our friends said they wouldn’t stand for that. After all, she was 18 years old and could do what she wanted. They didn’t understand the family dynamics with an Italian father. I understood.
Someone who leads
Connie has always been a leader. After graduation, she had a couple of years of experience in the ICU and the Emergency departments and then applied for a nursing position at a smaller hospital. After the interview, they gave the job to…
