Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography
Welcome to another edition of Open Book Blog Hop. This week’s question is: “Do you think the child you were would be impressed by the person you’ve become?
My child self wanted to be, among other things, a paramedic, after watching Emergency on television. She also considered being a nurse. So, she’s probably asking me, “What are you doing sitting in front of a computer when you could be speeding off in a fire engine to help a little girl whose hand is caught in a swimming pool drain? I must admit I steered clear of swimming pool drains after seeing that episode, but I digress.
Having limited vision would make rescuing people and providing medical attention tricky, to say the least. Now, of course, there are blood pressure monitors and other devices that talk. But there’s no technology that can tell you where a person is bleeding or what sort of injury a person has.
That was one thing I disliked about being my late husband’s caregiver. The typical man, he didn’t tell me if anything hurt or if he had a skin lesion. When aides from the local home care service who helped him take showers pointed anything out to us, he just brushed it off. You can read more about that in My Ideal Partner. But I’m digressing again.
In eighth grade, when I threw up after dissecting dead frogs in science class, I realized a medical career wasn’t for me. In college, while majoring in music therapy, I was required to take a physiological psychology class where we cut up dead sheep brains. Why would a music therapist need to know the parts of a sheep’s brain? Did I really want to be a music therapist? I should have been affronted when the instructor waived my lab requirement because of my visual impairment, but I was relieved.
My younger self should be proud of me for the fifteen years I worked as a music therapist with nursing home residents. Okay, so I wasn’t using a chain saw to remove a little girl’s hand from a swimming pool drain, but sing-alongs, name that tune, and musical memories brought smiles to many faces, and I’m pretty sure that little girl in the swimming pool wasn’t happy. Now, I entertain and inspire others by putting words on paper, and frankly, I don’t care what my child self thinks.
How about you? Would your child self approve of what you’re doing with your life now? You can click here to participate in this week’s hop and read what others have to say.
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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me
Copyright 2021 by Abbie Johnson Taylor.
Independently published with the help of DLD Books.
Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.
After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.
Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.
Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?
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My Corner 
I like that question.
My inner child is alive and well and guiding me – and I love her.
We spend a lot of time together. She is my BFF.
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That’s great, Lynda. Why don’t you post this on your own blog with a link to the hop? That would draw more readers to your site. It’s just a thought.
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This, is great.
I too watched Emergency and a friend of mine and I used to play emergency for hours a day when we got to visit.
What a great memory you woke.
Have a grand day.
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Hi, Patty. I’m glad I could bring back memories for you. Thank you for reading and commenting.
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I received my EMT certification in 2004. I never worked as an EMT because I made $4 more per hour as a CNA than I would as an entry-level EMT, but the certification helped me get assigned to the independent living department in the retirement community where I worked as the night shift emergency contact/resident assistant. I worked in that position for close to 11 years. Following my graduation from nursing school, I took a job working as a home health nurse for special needs kids. However, I was starting to have health problems of my own. I had to stop working for good in 2019 and went on disability in 2020.
I always thought music therapy sounded like an interesting field. I’m not sure why you’d have to dissect a sheep’s brain to do it either!
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Hello. In music therapy, music is used to help people in a variety of settings achieve therapeutic goals. I worked mostly with nursing home residents, but it could be used with many populations including the special-needs children with whom you worked. Thank you for commenting. Please come back soon.
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Sounds like you got out of the nursing field just in time, Naughty. 2020 was a rough year.
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When I look at all the things I learned or experienced, they have all found a use in my later life. Even if, at the time, they seemed pointless.
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I know what you mean. Many of the poems and stories I write are inspired by events in my life. Thanks for commenting.
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