This is true: when I would take career interest tests or inventories, the job that supposedly fit me the best was, ta-da: NURSE.
Now I know for a fact they didn't make you look at blood and guts on that test and I'm pretty sure they didn't even ask you about it. I get what I like to call sympathy pains (pains that shoot through my body) or gagging reflexes when I see either of these. Sometimes I believe that I really should have been a nurse, but then, I only need a week like this past one to remind me why I am not.
Reminder No. 1: Bridget threw up in bed one night and then ran in the bathroom and finished spewing forth on the toilet seat. (Poor sweetheart) I rolled up the bedspread and put it directly in the washing machine while gagging and looking the other way, and then asked John if he could clean off the toilet seat.
Reminder No. 2: Edward had his wisdom teeth removed Friday afternoon. After I brought him home, I had to "change the gauze." This involved me getting the kitchen trash can and placing it beneath him and instructing him to let that red soaked thingy in his mouth fall in the trash. Then I took a clean gauze and folded it up a bit and told him to stick it in there, you know and bite on it, and make sure you apply pressure.
The good news is, under my expert care, Bridget only threw up that one time and went back to school by noon the next day. Edward is also doing fine - my expert care provided him with applesauce, yogurt, pudding, jello, spagettios. And pain pills.