My grown up wish list

Years ago I was working the night shift on the pediatric unit, when my four-year-old patient with appendicitis pushed her call light, needing to go “potty.” Her parents had gone home for the evening and left this brave little one alone, the very night after her surgery. I pushed the IV pole behind her as she grimaced slightly, braced her abdominal incisions with her hands, and slowly hobbled to the bathroom. What a brave little soul. She sat there on the potty, barely awake, while I stood at her side managing the IV lines. She brushed messy hair out of her sleepy eyes, and motioned for me to come closer. As I leaned in, a sweet smile appeared across her face as she whispered softly, “I want a pony for Christmas.”

Pediatric nursing has lead me to reflect on what I truly wish for. I can remember a day when my greatest desires included glitter and sparkles and everything pink. And yes, I too, had once wished for nothing more than a pony.

I have spent the last 10 years as a pediatric ICU nurse caring for children in the most unfortunate circumstances. I have held the hand of a sobbing mother who was just told her baby has cancer. I have been there when this same mother was told her baby’s cancer is “back again for the second time.”

I was there after my little car accident victim awoke to be told her mommy was killed in the crash. I was also there at her bedside while daddy had to leave to attend mommy’s funeral.

I have cared for children who haven’t had food for months. I have cared for a child who was found abandoned in a car in the middle of January. I have cared for a toddler who calls all of his nurses “mama,” because he’s lived in the hospital most of his life awaiting medical foster care. After her child took his last breath, I embraced and held tightly the face of a mother who had smashed her head over and over again on the floor.

I come home at the end of the day and I don’t see my small living space in a crowded neighborhood. I see the most perfect home that is warm, comfortable, and keeps my children protected. It is a safe haven, and refuge for my family.

I don’t see the dirty dishes in the sink or the laundry heaping in the basket. I see that my children have good food to eat, and warm clothes to wear.

I don’t see the fingerprints on my windows, the toys all over the floor, and the accumulation of art projects strewn all over the house and taped to every vertical surface. I see the result of healthy children who can run, jump, see, hear, and breathe in all the goodness that childhood has to offer.

I don’t see the basketball, bikes and trikes scattered across my lawn, but would rather remember the child whose short life never granted him the opportunity to ever ride a bike.

So what do I wish for this year? I want to never lose sight of the vision that my life is magical. I want to wake up every morning and realize that I have already been granted the greatest of gifts. Of all the fantasies in a child’s world, I want my children to recognize that a healthy body trumps them all--yes, even a pony!

So this new year, I will look past the sparkle, glitter and glam that once filled up my wish list. I will humbly thank God for a life that is so perfectly blessed--A life filled with health, wellness, and love. The ultimate gift.

Katie Scoresby McKee grew up in Palmer, Alaska and after pursuing a degree in nursing in the Lower 48, has settled here with her family. Katie works part time as a pediatric ICU nurse and full time as a wife and mother. She enjoys gardening, four-wheeler rides and ice cream cones, as long as they include her husband and kiddos.