From Bedpans to Book Bans: How I Burned Out, Dropped Out, and Fell Into a Fantasy

Hi. I’m Dani! An almost former pediatric ICU nurse, current book-slinging enchantress, and proud founder of The Secret Garden Bookery — a magical little corner of the internet where romance burns hotter than my last caffeine-fueled code blue shift, and fantasy worlds offer exactly zero call light beeps.

Let’s rewind.

I have always wanted to be a nurse.  Fun fact: I was voted "Most Likely to be a Nurse" my senior year in high school.  Nursing and caring for people, especially the most awesome smallest peoples, is truly a passion of mine.  Helping people in crisis and illness, fills my cup.  However, things were never great for nurses, and I entered the field knowing that I would have hard days. 

Unfortunately, I did not anticipate the verbal and physical abuse I would encounter and suffer.  I did not foresee the frequency of helplessness I would feel when simply advocating for my patients.  I didn't know that I would be manipulated and bullied into working beyond safe practices... either in length of shift, number of patients, acuity of patients, or even being forced into a position of management without training, notice, or clinical experience. I certainly wasn't tracking the absolute shit show that was covid-19.  I wish I didn't see my coworkers and friends struggling with burn out, anxiety and panic attacks, and depression all around me during every single shift. 

I had hoped that hospital management would listen to our literal cries for help. I never thought I would clock in to find out a coworker had taken their own life. I didn't realize that I would watch children the same age as my own die from (in my opinion) preventable and avoidable medical errors. Repeatedly.  As in, that happened more than once. And when I voice my concerns, only ever being met with generic platitudes or a listless 'this is what you signed up for.' This was not the nursing that I love.  This was not filling my cup, but aggressively and brutally destroying me from the inside out.  

So, I mourned my dream and the life lost to corporate greed.  I decided to step away from the hospital setting in 2023.  And now, I've decided to take a running cannon ball of a leap into my super-secret, literally never thought it would ever, ever be possible fantasy.  After 12 years of grueling 12-hour shifts, enough bodily fluids to make a hazmat team flinch, a couple of EMR's clearly designed by a villain in a dystopian sci-fi novel, a few hospital changes, the right SSRI and an absolute heaven-sent therapist (Sheria, you're an angel) I realized I had two choices:

1. Cry in the supply closet for the seventh time that week. (Ok, who are we kidding... I cried everywhere openly and with disturbing frequency.
2. Chase the dream that had been whispering to me between med passes, codes, and call lights.

Spoiler: I picked door number two.

I traded in my scrubs for bookish tees, my trauma shears for stickers and bookmarks, and my N95 for... well, still an N95 because germs are rude in all universes. But now? I get to spend my days pairing readers with swoony love stories, dragons, morally questionable fae princes, and heroines who actually get eight hours of sleep.

Welcome to The Secret Garden Bookery — my cozy escape from reality, where stethoscopes are out and spice levels are very much in. The female main characters are badass, and the villain might actually be the hero. When things are darkest and most uncertain, it just means the story isn't finished yet. If you’re into fantasy worlds, epic love stories, or just need a break from literally everything, you’re in the right place.

Thanks for being here and joining me on my next chapter. Let’s read like our lives depend on it (because honestly, sometimes they kind of do). 💕📚✨

P.S. If you’re looking for clean, wholesome reads… bless your heart, but maybe keep moving. Things get steamy in the garden.