In 2005 I qualified as a nurse.

It was a time of too many nurses, and not enough jobs - how times have changed.

I found myself working in Tesco while I searched for work, then went from a nursing home to neuro intensive care, before taking up a role in intensive care at Noble’s Hospital.

I was privileged to work with inspirational professionals; from nurses to physios, doctors to porters. We made it through some truly challenging shifts with blood, sweat and camaraderie.

We became ’as one’ putting in lines, connecting fluids, adjusting ventilator settings, drawing blood, talking to relatives, tidying everything up and turning scenes of chaos to pictures of calm.

I remain in awe of my colleagues who continue to do this under exceptional circumstances that have now persisted for nearly two years.

Working in apron and gloves is tough, but I recall vividly from the swine flu outbreak the exponential increase in effort required to do the above in sleeved apron, gloves, mask and visor. 

I was proud, and humbled, to work with that team of professionals and of the trust that patients and their relatives placed in me.

Global surveys show nurses as one of the most trusted professions. We explain situations, act as eyes and ears, and provide balance between hope and reality.

In 2015, I took a leap of faith into politics, wanting to push for changes I felt were required in health and care.

On being elected, I felt again that powerful sense of humility, that people had placed their x in the box against my name.

And then, it all changed.

Three days in and my mental health took a significant hit as I realised that the trust in nurses is not about the person, but the profession.

The same stands true for politicians, and I experienced some incredibly critical personal attacks on social media. I wondered how it could be?

How overnight I had gone from hero to zero - from a person people unquestionably trusted with their lives, to a person considered by many to be incompetent, corrupt and dishonest. 

It hit me like a tonne of bricks. I considered going back to the safe place where I mended physically broken people, rather than becoming a mentally broken person myself.

I have spent long hours wondering whether politics is worth it, longing to go back to a world where I am valued; where people see the real me.

We have a parliament full of ordinary people - teachers, doctors, journalists, parents, accountants, nurses.

Yet some people believe that as these ordinary, trusted individuals pass the ballot box, they lose integrity, honesty and decency.

After five years in politics, I can tell you it isn’t the case.

Tynwald members might not have all the answers, but every single one is there for the right reasons: to help govern our island in a responsible and careful way, leaving it a little better for future generations than it was left to us.

The MHK who writes this week’s Examiner column is Daphne Caine. The paper is in the shops now.