There’s a photo of me standing on our front door step when I was four, dressed up as a nurse. Work experience twelve years later confirmed that actually, I would be terrible at it.
I never lost that desire to help people though. Glandular fever stopped me from building schools in South America and then, sadly, my MS diagnosis kept me firmly, permanently, close to home.
It’s taken a long time for me to move away from those laudable intentions to care for others. There are times, most days, when I have those ‘what if’ moments. You have them too, I suspect.
Here is my tentative solution to all that: so I can’t change societies or rescue the poor. I can’t trek through the Andes or walk the Camino. I can’t stand and serve in soup kitchens or run children’s clubs. I can’t run full stop.
But, I can write. I can take you away from your dark places and create a better world for you to be in, even just for a short time.
(I still can’t understand why authors would want to plunge me into punishing, dark places when they could create an escape plan from all that.)
So, my readers, you are my patients whether you like it or not. The best thing about having me as your nurse: my medicine is always served with a spoonful (or three) of sugar.