Hospitals can be, at times, frantic places, filled with noises, actions, sights, and smells, all assaulting us at one time.  And when there is an emergency, the doctors and nurses who respond to these situations must hurry, fast forward!  The author often captures this feeling of rush, of multi-tasking, of urgency in her descriptions of her work.  At times, I found the density and rush of this memoir difficult and disjointed, yet I also sensed that it perfectly mirrored the author's sensory experiences and the stresses of healthcare.  Frequently, the author interrupts the flow of her narrative with several paragraphs about the history of medicine, of nursing, of Florence Nightingale, of hospitals.  Often these "asides" come smack in the midst of a good story.  On page 46, the author muses that she might be developing a phobia about blood, but writes, "I am already in too deep and am too proud to admit that nursing might not be the best option for me after all." I wanted her to stay with this thought, to dive deeper, but the next paragraph begins, "Caring for minds sounds as if it would be easier to cope with than caring for bodies." She then continues to explicate the history of the words "psychiatry," "mental-health nurse," and the eighteenth and nineteenth century term "keeper" (title for nurses working with the mentally ill).  Such editorial inserts occur often, ranging from a few paragraphs to several pages--I wondered if an editor had asked the author to add this information.  These interruptions were educational but dry, and they didn't add to the author's story, which needed no such embellishments.  On page 311, the author writes of standing by a mother whose son has died. Christie, the nurse there for support, tries not to sob. "My ice-heart crashes." Those are the personal moments, the memories, that truly help readers understand what nursing is all about.