There is a common assumption that being a nurse makes living with a chronic condition easier. That knowledge somehow shields you from the frustration, the fatigue, or the emotional weight of managing illness every single day.
The truth is, it does not.
Being a nurse means I understand the numbers, the lab results, the guidelines, and the possible complications. But knowledge does not cancel out symptoms. It does not prevent flare ups. It does not make the body cooperate on days when it simply refuses to.
Sometimes, being a nurse actually makes it heavier. You know what could happen. You know what to watch for. You understand the long term implications, and that awareness quietly sits with you in moments when your body feels off.
In the hospital, I care for others with empathy and patience. Outside of it, I am still learning how to offer that same compassion to myself. Managing diabetes and digestive issues while working, caring, and showing up professionally is not always easy. Some days it feels like balancing two roles that constantly overlap.
Being a nurse does not mean I have perfect control or flawless routines. It means I am human with medical knowledge, navigating a body that does not always follow the rules. It means learning, adjusting, and forgiving myself when things do not go as planned.
This journey has taught me humility in ways textbooks never could. It has reminded me that strength is not about having all the answers, but about continuing to show up, even on the days when it is hard.
I am sharing this not to complain, but to be honest. To remind others that titles do not erase vulnerability, and that even caregivers need care.