After six weeks of job-hunting, sweating over applications and resumes, and not getting even a nibble, the miracle of networking came through: this afternoon, one of my best friends in nursing (who happens to be the director of nurses at the long-term care home where I worked years ago) discovered that she needed a part-time RN. Guess who happened to be in the right place at the right time? Yep—as of the moment I turn in the job application, I will be once again gainfully employed.
This is the place where I was most content as a floor nurse. I had awesome co-workers and a great crew of nurses’ aides, and we worked together as a team in the best sense of the word. They had my back. I had theirs. Three years later, we’re all still Facebook friends, and when my sister broke her hip and had to go to a nursing home for rehab, this was the one I chose. Three weeks ago they had no job openings (and believe me, I asked), but the staff has been talking the whole time about how much they wanted me to come back.
Today, their wish—and mine—came true.
This is why one should never, EVER burn bridges when leaving a job. At the time I left (cutbacks in hours due to low census made it impossible for me to stay on), I was still in excellent standing, and I’ve maintained good relationships with the other nurses and staff all this time. So when the possibility of a part-time opening came up, my name was at the very top of the list….and since I’m available, the job is mine to turn down.
Not that THAT’S an issue. I’ve wanted to go back to work there ever since I was kicked to the curb at my executive-level position. At 54, I have no real ambition anymore; I’ve done everything I wanted to do as a nurse, and then some. All I want now is to give an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, leave the job at the door when I go home, and not have to worry about it again till my next scheduled shift.
And best of all, these people know me. They know I’m bipolar, they know I have to be medicated and to see a psychiatrist regularly….and they like me anyway. I won’t have to explain my little ‘nonconformity’, or worry that it will be discovered when the inevitable happens and a mood episode sneaks through my protective shield. I don’t even have to ask for accommodations, because my soon-to-be boss already knows my limitations and has promised me that there won’t be any nights or back-to-back evening/day shifts.
Sometimes things really do work out for the best, even though we can’t see it while we’re going through the agony it takes to get to ‘better’.
Doing happy dance now….YAAAAAAAAAY!!