Contributed by Cathy Moore, RN
This happened a few summers ago. I was on my way home from working the night shift—in my scrubs—looking like death warmed over from being up all night. I stopped along the road to pick some wildflowers. The Queen Anne’s Lace was in full bloom and looked so nice that I wanted to take some home. This was also one of my "stay awake" strategies for my long commute home—stop, get out of the car, etc.
Anyway, while I was picking the flowers, a car pulled up. It was a reporter from a local paper who was driving around looking for "human interest stories." Upon my consent, he took some photos and my information—and the "story" appeared in the paper.
—Cathy Moore, RN