Hello Steemit family,

We are back again to share more about ourselves with you today as individuals. It is important to us to connect with the community. In order to do that we need to be transparent and share our story with you all. Please bear with me, I am new to this But in any case, let’s get to it.

Elena's Background

I am the daughter of a Peruvian single mother. My family immigrated to this country in the early 1980s. My great grandmother pioneered this movement, followed by my grandfather who brought 5 of his 8 children. My household always was Spanish speaking only. My family never learned the English language enough to even be properly conversational with it. So Spanish it was.

My grandfather played a pivotal role in childhood. He was the father I did not have. He instilled in me life lessons and values I have carried through, and plan to pass on to my children. Such as dedication and hard work. Always an emphasis on education and advancement so I can make something of myself and not struggle like he and our family did. I watched my grandfather work 2-3 jobs at a time to not only support his family here, but also send money back home for the rest of his family in Peru. Yet he always found time to play barbies with me, go for walks downtown feeding popcorn to the pigeons who would flock on the concrete stairs of buildings. He would run and play at the park, push me on the swings, tried to teach me how to ride a bike (we never got past a tricycle lol) and always gave me a lot of love.

My husband recently pointed out how old my grandfather was at this time, an interesting fact I never considered before. My grandfather was in his 60s being the head of household, provider and father for our family. This was amazing and brought a new level of respect for him I did not have before.

Success was the Only Option

Although this was a great experience, there were a lot of hardships as well. Good times and bad. Everything from growing up in cockroach infested apartments, city bus being our form of transportation, struggling weekly to have enough food on the table, and scrapping ends to make the rent every month. My grandfather did it. And I am grateful. He and my mother not only had rough lives here, but also back home. They came to the US in search of a better life. I was their American dream. My mother was relentless in her efforts to keep me focused on school. She was heavily involved, present at all parent teacher conferences, PTO meetings, volunteering to help at school events and field trips. You name it, she was there. My aunt would help me with my homework, especially arts and crafts projects. My uncle, who also lived with us was an enforcer like my mother. He would ask me to make sure I completed all of my work for the following day. I have a vivid memory when I was in 4th grade in Mr. Chicarillo’s class. I got a D on a test. I do not remember the subject, I do not remember what the test was on, nor do I remember why I did poorly on it. What I do remember is how my mother reacted when my teacher called her into school to discuss my grade. She was livid. Her disappointment and anger towards this deplorable grade was evident. I cried heavily in class while my mother and teacher watched. I never earned a grade lower than a B in my academic career since that incident.

Adult at 11 years old

Fast forward to middle school, my mother continued to be very involved and very protective. If it hasn’t been made clear by now by the examples I have given, I was also a sheltered child. My life consisted of house play and school work. Even though we grew up in the “hood” in Hartford, I was never outside to engage in any of that activity. The opportunities I was by chance associated in I still never engaged. I never engaged because it was engrained in my mind that all those things were bad, and I do not participate in any of it. This sentiment resonated with me, not only because my parents said so, but also because my spirit felt it too. Drinking, smoking, sex and peer pressure did not feel good to me. It wasn’t right. Therefore, I did not engage. This did not make me win any Miss Popularity contests, but back to my mother. She would drop me off to school and walk me to the classroom door. It was April 1999, another routine morning drop off to school while I was sitting in homeroom, when the school guidance counselor came in and pulled me out of class. She brought me into the hallway and told me my mother collapsed outside and they were calling the ambulance. She brought me out to the parking lot where I saw my gym teacher and another staff member giving my mother CPR as she laid out unconscious on the ground. I remember bursting into tears and being brought back into the guidance counselor’s office. She drove me to Hartford Hospital following closely behind the ambulance. I was met by my grandfather and uncle shortly after. I clearly remember the doctor coming into the family room where we were sitting to tell us my mother needed a defibrillator. Her heart dysrhythmias did not allow her to stay in a rhythm compatible with life without an intervention every time. He also said there was a possibility she may not do well in the OR and be comatose after the surgery. I had to translate and explain these options to my grandfather and uncle to make this decision for my mother because she was too critically ill to do so herself. I also had to process this information myself. What did this mean? What was really happening? I was only 11 years old. This was a huge milestone in my life and was the start of me transitioning into the head of household role my grandfather played. I had to grow up, and grow up quick. I stayed with my mother the close to 3 weeks it took for her to transition through every stage of the hospital from ER, critical care, intermediate care, and medical floors. We had good and bad experiences together during this time. At the end of this experience, I walked away with understanding the value of commitment to family, responsibility, and that I wanted to save people how those doctors and nurses saved my mother.

I Made It

My level of maturity and dedication to school elevated. Now I had a vision for what I was going to be. I wanted to be a nurse. The nurse was the person at the bedside, closely working with my mother as she recovered and were caring and considerate to me, making sure I was ok, from giving snacks overnight, finding me extra pillows and blankets. I admired this love and compassion. I graduated from high school Valedictorian of my class in 2006 and entered the University of Connecticut School of Nursing program. I felt on top of the world, my hard work was paying off with every accomplishment, and I was in love. This is its own story, but for the purposes of this post I will keep it brief. This was my first love. We met through an internship at The Hartford Financial Services Group. He was 4 years my senior. We were together for 4 years. The relationship ended my junior year in college. This was a very difficult time for me. But despite my heartbreak, I never lost focus. He broke up with me a few hours before a midterm nursing exam. I cried to and from the exam back to my dorm room, but still got an A. I graduated with my BSN in 2010 and officially became an RN in June of that year. I started working at Middlesex Hospital, a magnet community hospital in the orthopedic unit. I worked my way to become comfortable in my abilities before I began floating to other units to gain different experiences. I knew I did not want to do orthopedics. It was not an area of specialty that interested me. The CRN on night shift pointed out that I would make a great addition to the ER, and that I could totally handle it. The idea was genius. I grew up watching shows on TLC such as Life in the ER. I loved it. Once again, the vision was clear. And within a year, I transitioned into the ER.

Time for A Change

Aside from the great professional achievements, I went through a lot in my personal life. The break-up did affected me deeply. And I began to make choices from a painful place that I otherwise would not have made. It was not a good time in my life. I had a bad year, from clubs, drinking, wreckless behavior. It was a very bad year. Oddly enough, my husband was the catalyst to set off this period in my life and he was the one who came back into my life to end it. We have grown tremendously together over the last 6 years. And I love the people who have evolved into and the family we have created. We changed because it was time to change.

Speaking of change,

I have been in the ER for 5 years and love it. I love the patients, the experiences. I do not love the petty politics it has become over the past 3 years or so with management and the corporate system. Aside from that, my co-wokers, patients and learning experiences are amazing. But with the transitions I have made in my life, and with my continued personal growth, nursing in this setting is becoming more and more a thing of the past. The career I have mastered these 7 years is coming to a close for many reasons. I realize I can do so much more with more freedom, love and creativity on my own and for my family than I can being confined to the walls of the hospital which is run by a system that does not have the best interest of its employees or patients at heart. We are all numbers, dollar signs and very replaceable. I value us more. My family needs me more. I am now a mother of 4 children, 3 of which we have full time. I am a full time caregiver to 3 adults. I am a wife. I am a woman. And my husband and I still need to provide for our family. Extending time and energy to working for others, not exercising the proven work ethic I have, and other talents would be shameful. I would not be relying on myself to further progress. This is a complete change in perception, as I always grew up being taught that an education was key to obtain job security. Relying on job security outside of myself. But this is no more. I have to set the example for my children that you are valuable, you are talented and you can be successful creating your own vision. This is what my husband has taught me and this is why I love him.

Now that I have shared way more information than I planned on disclosing when I started writing this post. I will end with this.

I am not perfect, my family is not perfect. And we don’t pretend to be. All we can do is share our life, our experiences and our lessons to give our children and others an opportunity to see how it applies to them and hopefully gain something positive. Now at the age of 29 I am beginning to realize life is not what it ever seemed to be, we create our own life. This is what we are doing here and now.