Personal Narrative: My Experience With Men In Nursing

“Men can’t handle diapers”, my mother told me. “Your dad changed yours once and that was enough for both of us!” I later found out that my father’s diaper change involved a plastic wading pool, a garden hose, and a bucket for his delicate stomach. In spite of my mother’s bold statement; I applied for a weekend job as a resident assistant at the local nursing home. Initially, the sights, sounds, smells, and bodily fluids were overwhelming. This was an experience that few teenagers are accustomed too. However, I found that I loved the job for a very simple reason, the connections I made with other people. I felt that I was performing God’s work and that this was a new chapter in God’s plan for me.
The nurses that I worked under were fantastic role-models. They encouraged me to continue my education in healthcare. At first, the nursing profession did not seem like an option for me. The stigma associated with men in nursing was a tremendous barrier. At the time, my tenacious, teenage ego could not reconcile the hit to my masculinity. When I was 16 years old, I moved away from home to attend a state college under the post-secondary enrollment option. I continued to work as a resident assistant during this time through Lutheran Social Services. My supervisor at the time, Jane, was an RN that

I am devoted to lifelong learning and plan to obtain my doctorate of nursing practice. I have known many fantastic nurse practitioners, physicians, physician assistants, and educators throughout the years. I have known many RN’s that have gone on to practice in each of those professions. I choose to become a nurse practitioner because I believe in the nursing philosophy of healing the whole person. I believe providers need to be more mindful of the benefits of holistic, preventative care. Furthermore, I desire autonomy in my practice and the ability to have a greater influence in changing the healthcare