MY decision to become a nurse came late in life for me. I was already 4 years old. My uncle gave me a Nancy Nurse kit and I immediately converted my bedroom into an infirmary. I donned my little white cap and went to work. My stuffies became patients with exotic injuries and devastating diseases. I splinted them up with popsicle sticks, administered candy pills, and posted visiting hours. (I was very strict.) When my father came home from work, I shared my exciting career epiphany-that I was going to be a nurse when I grew up. He laughed and said that was great, but he suspected that between now and the time I graduated from high school I would change my mind 100 times. I never did.

It never made sense to me that other girls wanted to be teachers or athletes, or dancers. Why would you do any of that when you could be a nurse? And my friends who had no idea what they wanted to do just baffled me. I mean-come on! We were already in grade school and they still didn't know what they wanted to do? All they had to do was read Cherry Ames (like I did) and it would be clear to them. What could be better than nursing?

Others went through the process my father thought I would-changing their minds, exploring different ideas, and thinking about alternate futures. That amused me. I didn't understand it. I was going to be a nurse and I had always known that. I had little patience for these indecisive people around me.

I was lucky enough to attend a hospital diploma program before they were all gone. I still think it is the best preparation for practice I could have had. I learned what I needed to know about clinical practice, but also learned the culture and values of the profession. Nurses were nearing the end of wearing caps and white uniforms, and I got to be a part of the close of that era. As a new graduate, I talked my way into a job in an operating room that had not previously hired new grads. I moonlighted in an emergency department major trauma center that saw 400 patients a day. I went back for my degree while working both of those jobs. (I was in my 20s-it could be done then.)

I went to critical care for a few years; then went on the road as a traveling nurse taking assignments in OR, ER, and ICU. I felt so superior to my high school friends who had done other things. Whoever heard of traveling teachers? Nursing let me see the entire country while the athletes and dancers stayed local. Their fault. They could have chosen nursing but they didn't. I did. I felt quite smug about it.

I climbed the management ladder, progressing from charge nurse to Assistant Director of Nursing. Unlike some nurses who are promoted into management roles on the basis of their clinical skills, which have nothing to do with managing other nurses, I was fortunate. I worked in hospitals that provided training and support for the leadership positions. I had good mentors. I had effective and motivating role models. Also, I found it helpful to have already read Cherry Ames, Night Supervisor.

When I had been a nurse for about 25 years, my mother died of medical and nursing malpractice. It shook me to have been a nurse so long and still lose her to clinical incompetence from my own peeps. The attorney my sisters and I consulted with blew the statute of limitations, so they could not be held responsible. I didn't even know there was a statute, much less when it would toll. And, I certainly didn't know I should be second guessing a lawyer about what to do when. There might have been easier ways to cope with my grief and anger, but I decided to go to law school.

Law school was hard, but not as hard as nursing school. It was studying philosophy, a new language and vocabulary and new ways of viewing things. It left no time for anything else. At the same time, I managed a New York City Emergency Department with 24/7 responsibility. It was a tight schedule and if I were constipated it threw things off. But, there was no acid-base balance, neuroanatomy, or Krebs cycle to deal with. No sciences, labs, or clinicals.

My first job out of law school was in a medical malpractice litigation firm, defending providers and institutions. Again, not as hard as nursing. Mistakes didn't cost anyone a kidney or throw people into anaphylactic shock. The stakes weren't as high. My legal colleagues panicked about things that didn't alarm me. I had been an OR nurse, an ER nurse, and an ICU nurse, and I had worked in about 36 hospitals in 10 different states. Other associates' definition of crisis differed from mine. A missed filing deadline? A partner is angry? Behind on billing? That was a crisis to them. To me, if there was no hemorrhage or cardiac arrest involved, it was a problem, not a crisis. Nursing had provided me with a different perspective and much more resilience. And I have never left court needing to say, "I am sorry. I did the best I could. Now I need to talk to you about organ donation."

After a number of years in litigation firms, I went out on my own. Disciplinary defense before the licensing boards does not require the full infrastructure of a large firm and can be done solo. I represent all health care professionals, but primarily nurses. Representing nurses who are in trouble has given me a great deal of information about what we don't teach but should be teaching. All nurses should have the information they need to protect themselves from liability and licensure discipline. I represent nurses. I speak to nurses. I write for nurses. Attorney or no attorney, I am, and always will be a nurse first and have made it my mission to educate my own in legal self-preservation.

One day, someone will update the Cherry Ames series. Among others, we will have Cherry Ames, Informatics Nurse, Cherry Ames, Journal Editor Nurse, Cherry Ames, Certified Dialysis Nurse, and finally, Cherry Ames, Nurse Attorney. I will be available for technical advice.