By Lateef
Published: March 2026
June 1, 2023, was a day I had been looking forward to for a long time. It was my first time in the skills lab and the first time wearing my student nurse uniform. I remember looking at myself and feeling a mixture of excitement and pride. It felt like the beginning of something meaningful — the first real step into a profession built on care, responsibility, and compassion.
At the time, I had no idea how much that journey would test me.
As the semester progressed, I found myself spending a lot of time in the library. After completing my Human Life Journey assignment, I began helping friends who were struggling with theirs. I supported them with Harvard referencing, proofreading drafts, and working through tutorials. Helping others came naturally to me, and seeing my colleagues succeed brought me genuine satisfaction.
But July soon took a different turn.
We received news that a close family member had been admitted to hospital in London. He had been unwell for some time, but I had not realised how serious his condition had become. We travelled to see him, expecting it to be a simple visit. Standing beside his hospital bed and hearing the words palliative care was a moment that changed everything. I tried to remain calm, even giving him a back rub and smiling, but inside I felt a quiet fear.
Three days later, the phone rang. He had passed away.
I was inconsolable. Yet life around me did not stop. Assignments were still due, deadlines still approached, and people were still relying on me. I found myself returning to the library, continuing to help classmates with tutorials and proofreading while carrying a grief I barely had time to process.
Not long after, in one of our lectures, we were taught about death — how to break difficult news to patients’ families and how healthcare professionals should seek support during grief. I sat there quietly, listening to something I was experiencing in real time. I was not just a student learning about loss. I was living through it.
Two days after my uncle’s passing, we travelled again for his burial. At the cemetery, family members were asked to perform the final rites. I remember feeling afraid to enter the room where his body lay. But I told myself that if I was becoming a nurse, I needed to find courage in difficult moments. I stepped forward, and we performed the final rites. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life.
Still, there was little time to process what had happened. Exams were approaching, assignments were due, and I felt an overwhelming pressure to keep moving forward.
Then, just days later, my world changed again.
I received a phone call informing me that my brother — the person closest to me in the world — had been killed. I remember the disbelief, the shock, and the overwhelming grief that followed. I broke down in tears in front of my children, something they had never seen before. In the space of just ten days, I had lost two people deeply connected to my life.
Yet two days later, I found myself back on campus.
There were appointments with classmates who had extensions. Drafts to review. Tutorials to discuss. I showed up because I did not want to fail the people who depended on me. Helping others became a way of coping — a way to keep moving when standing still felt unbearable.
Looking back now, I realise that during those months I was not just learning clinical skills or academic knowledge. I was learning something far deeper about humanity, vulnerability, and resilience.
Nursing often teaches us how to care for patients and support families during some of the most difficult moments of their lives. But my journey reminded me that nurses themselves are human too — carrying their own stories, struggles, and grief while continuing to care for others.
Today, as we approach graduation, I look back at that first day in the skills lab with a different perspective. The excitement I felt then was real, but I did not yet understand the depth of emotional strength this profession would require.
What I do know now is this: compassion is not something learned only in textbooks or simulations. Sometimes it is shaped in the quiet moments of personal loss, resilience, and the determination to keep showing up for others.
And despite everything, I am still here — stronger, more empathetic, and more committed than ever to the calling of nursing.
By [Author Name]
Published: [Month Year]
Set the scene: where you were in your journey, what was happening that day, and why it mattered.
1. Describe the first pivotal moment and what you observed, thought or felt.
2. Share a challenge and how you navigated it (communication, teamwork, clinical judgement).
3. Note an insight or lesson that changed your approach.
What did this experience teach you about nursing, humanity or yourself? What would you do the same or differently next time?
Tip for readers: End with one practical takeaway for fellow nurses or students.
Share your best study, placement and self-care tips using the form below. We’ll publish a selection here to help each other thrive.
Before ward round or MDT, sketch quick S/B/A/R notes in a mini notebook. Open with a one-line summary, share two key assessments, and finish with a clear recommendation or ask.
Build short daily sessions (15-20 minutes). Mix drug calculations, red flags, and communication. Revisit tough cards more often and retire easy ones.
Take 2-minute resets between patients: breathe, hydrate, and note one positive action. Debrief with a peer after challenging shifts and escalate if exposure to distressing events affects your wellbeing.
Right patient, drug, dose, route, time, and documentation. Verbalise checks, pause if interrupted, and request an independent double-check for high-risk meds.
Below is a practical overview and trusted resources on mental health law for everyday practice. Always follow your Trust or Board policies and training.
Assessment & detention: criteria, lawful process, documentation and patient rights (including advocacy).
Consent, capacity & treatment: assessing capacity, best-interest decision-making, second opinions and safeguards.
Community Treatment Orders: conditions, recall, review and multidisciplinary responsibilities.
Safeguards & nearest relative: roles, consultation, objections and displacement processes.
Places of safety & police powers: section 135/136 pathways, time limits and multi-agency working.
Children & young people: consent frameworks and age-appropriate safeguards.
Documentation & reporting: forms, timeframes, notifications and escalation.