I had been out of nursing school for a year and was working at a neonatal intensive care unit in Chicago. I was tired, stressed, burnt out, challenged and questioning my decision to become a nurse. Caroline, the girlfriend of our neighbor’s son, dropped by because she was considering being a nurse and wanted to know what I thought of my new profession. I told her it was perhaps the worst choice I’d ever made. I told her it was exhausting, stressful and ethically challenging. I complained to her about the physicians, the residents and the babies’ parents. I complained about working holidays and shift rotations. I went on and on as if my one year of nursing taught me everything I ever needed to know about the profession. Her smile faded as she listened to me. Although I realized I had stepped on her dream, I thought she should know the truth. Once she left, my father lit into me. He could not believe I would paint the profession so negatively when it was obvious this young woman was excited about the prospect of becoming a nurse. I told him he just didn’t understand.

I stayed with this profession that I so vehemently “hated” for 43 years and for the past two years, I have been tasked with educating our local nursing students. It’s been challenging, this teaching thing. Perhaps the most challenging thing of all is figuring out how to reconcile the nursing school nurse with the real-life nurse.

How am I to teach these new nurses, so eager and excited, the reality of their profession without scaring them off? How do I set them up for success when I know what a shock their first year is going to be? Here’s a sobering statistic — 56% of new nurses quit the profession in the first two years post-graduation.

They come to my classes, having just been in one of their clinical rotations, with stories of nurses who are not kind to their patients, of nurses who don’t follow the protocols that I have been teaching them, of real-life heartbreaking stories — and they look to me for answers. Many times, I’m silent as I try to pull my thoughts together to give them hope at a time when our health care system is struggling. But sometimes, I take a deep breath and I say the right thing.

I tell them that nursing is one of the most rewarding professions there is. I tell them that they’ll find a place to work where their co-workers will become like family to them because they will bond over the traumas and joys they experience. I tell them that they will experience the highest highs and the lowest lows of their life and will be better people because of those experiences.

I tell them that, more than anything else in their working career, it’s important to be the safest, most compassionate nurse that they be can given the circumstances. I tell them they will make mistakes and, God willing, they will do no harm.

I tell them that one day they will come home from a truly horrible day and go into the shower, sit down on the floor and sob as the water rains down on them. But they won’t have failed because, like all good nurses, they will go back the next day and try again to be the best nurse that they can be.

And I tell them to embrace the challenge.

Laura Alexander is a San Rafael resident. IJ readers are invited to share their stories of love, dating, parenting, marriage, friendship and other experiences for our How It Is column, which runs Tuesdays in the Lifestyles section. All stories must not have been published in part or in its entirety previously. Send your stories of no more than 600 words to lifestyles@marinij.com. Please write How It Is in the subject line. The IJ reserves the right to edit them for publication. Please include your full name, address and a daytime phone number.