Tuesday, December 6, 2022, 8 pm

The Chicago Theatre

Michelle Obama: The Light We Carry Tour Appearance

I got my mother her combined birthday and Christmas present by taking her to the Michelle Obama “The Light We Carry” tour appearance and buying her and my father the book. My father was waiting for his surgeries, wasn’t feeling well and stayed at home. I took pictures of her standing under the illuminated Chicago Theatre “Michelle Obama December 5 & 6” sign. We also took selfies together and texted them to my father.

I was grateful we were able to go to this event together.

Dementia runs in our family, and I had a feeling that it may occur with my mother. She was exhibiting the first signs even then, forgetting to close and lock doors and where she placed her belongings.

As a nurse, I’d taken care of patients with Alzheimer’s Disease before. Reminiscing is especially important, so I made sure I took a lot of pictures and video for her to share at a later time if I needed to.

I wore a gold blouse after having seen Michelle Obama in a pair of gold go go disco boots that my mother owned and wore in the 1970s. It reminded me of the Bible verse Job: 23:10: But he who knows the way I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.” I felt it was a befitting wardrobe choice after the Obamas’ two terms in the White House.  

My college friend came from Charlotte, North Carolina. She was born and raised in Chicago like me, but her family moved for work and she went with them. We were all looking forward to this event as soon as it was announced in September 2022.

We just made a day out of it starting at 6:30 am with breakfast at a local restaurant, going to Shed Aquarium and then lunch at the Whole Foods on Canal Street.  

We all agreed that Michelle Obama’s interview was excellent as was to be expected and the book she wrote as well as the phony pony and jumpsuit were lit!

DJ Nice was incredible! We called family and friends on facetime for them to dance to the music, even if it was on their cell phones.

I got my mother her favorite hot beverage: medicine ball from Starbucks with extra honey and lemon. As we shared cups of medicine ball together, my mother asked me about my new job. People being curious came into our conversation asking, “You work at Whitney Young High School?’

“Yes!” my mother replied. “My daughter works at Whitney Young High School.”

My mama was proud of me.

Monday, December 5^th, 2022

I spent the first week of employment within my patient’s home. By December 2022, we went into Whitney Young High School. The last time I was here I was 17 years old and I was inducted into the National Honors Society. We had to participate in the Special Olympics. The Special Olympics was held at Whitney Young High School. I personally loved every minute of it. I knew even then I wanted to become a nurse, but the staff having observed my interaction with the patients/students felt I would be a good fit and said, “You know you’re really good at this. You should consider getting a job here.”  

I was too young to know how to ask more questions. I also knew I wanted to be a writer even since I was a child. I had healthcare workers in my family who regaled me with stories about their job when they came home. They also read books and gifted them to me when they were done reading them. One of those books was Coma by Robin Cook. I was mesmerized with the idea that you could be a healthcare worker and writer at the same time. My parents took me into bookstores, patted the countertop and said, “Get whatever you want,” and purchased the books I chose. One of my family members even made her place in Chicago crime history as a nurse. Not because she committed a crime, but she worked as a nurse in areas of Chicago where famous crimes that were made into Discovery Investigation profiles many years later. My interest in healthcare and storytelling was initiated and there was no turning back.

Learning begins at home. 

Returning to Whitney Young High School as a one-to-one nurse to my patient, I realized that you didn’t need to be a student to deeply appreciate the school and even help the students. Whitney Young High School actually looked much the same as it did when I was in high school and there were even more pictures and memorabilia of their famous alumni hanging from the walls. A feeling of familiarity overtook me.

Somehow or another, it seemed like I had come full circle into something, but I didn’t know what.  

Saturday, October 22^nd, 2022, 2 pm

I met with my new patient and family today. The family speaks four languages in their home. My new patient’s family have gone out of their way to make the bedroom as homelike and inviting as possible with nature scenes painted on the walls and paintings from local and international artists offering well wishes for my patient’s continued good health and recovery.

“We try to keep things as normal as possible,” his parents said.

My new patient’s parents have heard since he was born that he was supposed to die by the age of 5. Their son has turned 13 and they are super grateful. I’ve seen and heard these types of stories having worked in nursing at that time for 21 years. The truth of the matter is that the only one who knows your beginning and end is God. Patients and cases like this are fun for nurses like me because we get to prove the doctors wrong.

 “What school will he attend?” I asked.

“Whitney Young High School,” his mother replied.

With all due respect to the famous alumni, but everyone in Chicago always knew that Whitney Young High School is da bomb diggity!  Whitney Young High School was great before these individuals became students there. It just got better when the alumni arrived and even better after they left to do great things.

The plan for me before I went to high school was for me to attend Whitney Young High School, but my family moved and I attended high school elsewhere. All my life, it was in the back of my mind, “How might my life have been different had I attended Whitney Young High School?”

Sniffle. . .  Pass the tissue. . .

It was one of those things that I would rehash in the middle of the night or when I awakened to face the day. And exactly how many people get a chance to do high school all over again without having your parents to yell at you about having to do your homework?

Taking this job meant listening to the urging of my heart and my spirit.

“I will be your child’s nurse,” I told them.

     I received “the call” from a mutual acquaintance of my future Whitney Young High School patient/student on my cell phone. I was about to not pick it up. It was the middle of the Covid pandemic and RSV flu season. I received many calls asking me to take ventilator nursing jobs, even though I already had one, well before the Covid pandemic. I had been a nurse for 21 years at that point and I wanted to quit. I was an only child. I had two elderly parents. They were scared for me. I was scared for them. I just had received word that my father would need 3 surgeries the following year, one where part of his scalp would be removed. He was an army veteran who had been involved in an explosion in the military where he had shrapnel.  After the military, he went to college and worked at the Smithfield Plant for nearly 45 years. My mother had worked in a bank in Chicago for 25 years, then became a teacher’s aide for another 20 years. Both were retired.

     But instead, I took the call: “We have a child who has not been to school in 3 months. He is a Whitney Young High School student with severe respiratory issues. We know you are a ventilator nurse who works with patients with severe respiratory difficulty. Would you be willing to take the job and be a one-to-one nurse for this child?”

     “Why don’t you do a meet and greet? If you really want to walk away, you can,” he said.

     My logic said, “Quit nursing like everybody else.” My heart and spirit said, “Go and see this family.”

     “When and where would the meeting take place,” I asked.