it's actually all Santa's "fault" that i want to be a nurse.
at 4 y.o. Santa brought me the medical/nurse kit that i had dreamed about for months. LOVED that plastic steth and the little plastic hat. soon after, every baby doll i had was bandaged for some trauma they had suffered.
when baby dolls became boring (they really don't move very much on their own), i moved on to my cats. :chuckle poor furry dears were very patient with a then 5 y.o. that wanted nothing more than to bandage their legs and tails and "nurse" then back to health (even though there was nothing wrong with them at all!).
many of my mothers towels soon became cut up for "bandages." (my @ss still stings at the memory). every empty pill bottle that i could con my mother out of soon became filled with my "medicine." i would sort through those smartie candies and divide them into colors and fill my pill bottles. :chuckle
i side tracked when i first went to college. decided to become an accountant.
now nothing wrong with accounting, just turned out not to be my cup of tea.
dropped out of college, moved back home (at the tender age of 19). i was snooping through mothers attic and came across that little plastic nurse kit. i was so surprised that my mother kept it! i just remember it "disappearing" one day when i was young. come to find out, mother put it away because she couldn't afford to buy any more towels.
i applied to the nursing program about a month later. didn't finish because of family reasons but now i'm 31 and right back in the thick of things. i've worked in some medical field for the last 7-8 years or so and am tickled pink to be 9 months from graduating.
my mother is just glad that i now have real bandages to "play" with and that i leave her towels alone.