ME in the northern Mongolian countryside.

It's always been my passion to provide care to the underserved in Third World countries. But, as a staff nurse specializing in pediatric intensive care, I didn't have enough flexibility or time off in my schedule to pursue this dream. In 2005, after practicing in a permanent position for 2½ years, I decided to become a travel nurse so I could volunteer abroad in between assignments. Accepting contracts exclusively through Boca Raton, Florida-based Cross Country TravCorps, I soon discovered travel nursing was an excellent way for me to see the world—domestically and internationally—and fulfill my personal and professional goals.

Traveling has given me a chance to live in incredible places without the hassle of figuring out the logistics myself. Since I began my mobile career, I've completed 11 assignments coast to coast—from Seattle, Washington, and Oakland, California, to New York, New York, and Miami, Florida. I've lived in an amazing apartment in the heart of The Big Apple, hiked in the Hoh Rain Forest in Washington State, and spent my days off swimming at Miami Beach. And, as a traveling nurse, I've enjoyed a competitive salary, without the headache of worrying about rent or utilities. My time on the road has honestly felt like a paid vacation. Most importantly, travel nursing has helped me find the flexibility I needed to go on medical missions all over the world—including Europe, Asia, and South America.

THE CARAVAN of vans in which we trekked across the Mongolian countryside. On the left is a Buddhist shrine.

Life in the desert

Our journey began in a rickety Russian school bus, as my colleagues and I trekked across the South Gobi Desert, devoid of any roads. We were greeted at the clinical site by swarms of children and families.

Attempting to appease the restless little ones in line, we made balloon animals and sang songs in our broken and mostly non-existent Mongolian. Inside the clinic, we performed up to 200 on-site echocardiograms to diagnose the children on the spot. Those with operable cardiac defects were either placed on a waiting list for surgery by our team or a visiting team from Japan. More complicated defects were referred to U.S.-based surgeons who operated on them free of charge.

At the end of a long day, we sat our fatigued and dusty bodies down to a traditional Mongolian meal of mutton, cucumbers, and tomatoes. To wash it down, our hosts offered us fermented mares' milk.

A FAMILY'S ger where we stopped to screen.

As I walked across the camp towards my ger (a traditional, transportable Mongolian lodging), the crisp air amplified the silence surrounding me. I marveled at the boundless desert that stretched for miles in every direction and the starlight that illuminated a vast ebony sky above me. Arriving at my circular tent, which had a hole in the top to allow smoke from a stove to escape, I was glad for its shelter from the harsh desert temperatures. I lay in bed that night, nestled under heaps of wool blankets, my cot hugging the potbelly stove burning sheep dung, and I reveled in the perfection of the moment.