There are moments that define history.
And then, there are moments that define 'our' history. For my grandmother, it was D-Day. For my mother, it was the day JFK was assassinated. For me, it was 9/11.
That day forever changed how I viewed the world around me. An innocence was lost. No, more like ripped away.
I remember September 11, 2001 like it was yesterday. I was working at St. Joe's Womens Hospital in Tampa. It was moments after the first tower had been struck and I had just brought a patient into the recovery room. The PACU nurses were glued to the tv. (Funny how I never noticed the tv in the recovery room till that day.) I asked what was going on and I was told that a plane had struck one of the World Trade Center towers. I remember hearing Katie Couric speculate if this was a bad accident or if it was an act of terriorism. I remember thinking it had to be a bad accident. For how could an act of terriorism of this magnitude take place on our own soil? I proceeded back to my OR. The next case started. And then the news of the second tower being struck spread like a wild fire thru the ORs. And I knew in that immediate horror that life was never going to be the same for me, my family, my co-workers or my fellow Americans. Life was forever altered. This act of terriorism wasn't just at our front door, it was in our living rooms.
Soon after, the second case ended and I was back in recovery watching the replay of the second tower being struck. And I wondered, how do we go on? Not just in that moment, but in the coming minutes and hours, as well as in the coming days and months.
Shortly after, news came that the pentagon had been struck. This was too close to home. I had family that lived and worked around the DC area. Where were they and were they ok? My immediate response was one of clausterphobia and panic. I had to get out of there. I had to get home and hug my daughter, to feel and know she was safe. But there's a funny thing about nurses: we don't abandon our posts. We don't abandon our patients. We carry on. So, I put my game face on and carried on, trying to reassure my patients that we, as medical professionals, will continue on and keep them safe during our watch.
I got home that evening and I hugged my daughter. I called and emailed family members to make sure they were safe. I watched the events of the day unfold over and over as news channels replayed the video feeds. I tried to process the horrors that took place that day and prayed for those who lost loved ones, emergency personnel and our nation's leaders. I realized with a great sadness that we were being persecuted for the freedoms that so many of us took for granted.
Now, ten years later, the question is posed to me: How has 9/11 changed you? My answer is not so simple. One answer would be I do not look or listen to planes the same. I always wonder when I hear or see one flying overhead. Another would be that I do not take life for granted or assume that anything is a given. But most importantly, what I've learned about myself as well as a nation, is in the face of a horrible tragedy, God gives us the grace and strength to carry on.
