Lionised as a gentle "lady of the lamp" who wandered through hospital wards tending to wounded British soldiers during the Crimean War, we seem to have forgotten her fierceness: a young woman who burned to abandon all social obligations and just work, who spurned suitors and lobbied politicians, who adored statistics and pioneered pie charts, and who revolutionised the medical establishment.

She had no patience for those who lived without yearning, with wicks unlit.

"Rather, 10 times, die in the surf," she wrote, "heralding the way to a new world, than stand idly on the shore."

We also forget, when we think of health policy, that it was a nurse who returned from an ugly, obscenely poorly-prepared war in Turkey and wrote a 830-page tome about military hospitals that sparked a royal commission and changed the way we think about health. Today, we bear the legacy of her work on infection control, hygiene, hospital design and her beloved statistics.

This makes it seem even more bizarre that today nurses are still so frequently sidelined from policy formulation and public debates about health. Why is it that most can name the Australian Medical Association, for example, how quickly will the Australian College of Nurses, or the Australian Nursery and Midwifery Federation spring to mind?

Why aren't we listening to our nurse leaders?

It's not an idle question. Recent studies have found much of our nursing population is approaching retirement – and quite alarmingly burnt out – at precisely the time the nursing needs of a broader ageing population is increasing. Earlier this month, in front of 120 nursing leaders, the Prime Minister launched a white paper from the Australian College of Nursing, about the role of nurses in future health and aged care reform, but it has entirely escaped the attention of the media.

And why is it, too, that – much like teachers – so many nurses feel unappreciated, undervalued and patronised, when it is difficult to conceive of more important work?

Just how deep this vein of resentment runs was quickly obvious recently when I watched a powerfully eloquent Facebook post written by Caitlin Brassington, a Queensland nurse and friend, "go viral" – which really means unexpectedly mined an emotion common to more people than we might think.

Brassington had been taken aback when, while wearing her scrubs down to local shops after a shift, an acquaintance of hers said she didn't realise she was "just a nurse". During her 18 years of working as a nurse, she said, she had heard that phrase "many, many times", but on that day it stung.

She sat at her computer and wrote this:

"Am I just a nurse?

"I have helped babies into the world, many of whom needed assistance to take their first breath, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I have held patients hands and ensured their dignity while they take their last breath, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I have counselled grieving parents after the loss of a child, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I have performed CPR on patients and brought them back to life, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I am the medical officers eyes, ears and hands with the ability to assess, treat and manage your illness, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I can ascultate every lung field on a newborn and assess which field may have a decreased air entry, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I can educate patients, carers, and junior nurses, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I am my patients advocate in a health system that does not always put my patients best interest first, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I will miss Christmas Days, my children's birthdays, and school musicals to come to work to care for your loved one, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I can take blood, cannulate and suture a wound, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I can manage a cardiac arrest in a newborn, a child or an adult, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I can tell you the dosage of adrenaline or amiodarone based on weight that your child may need to bring them back to life, and yet I am just a nurse.

"I have the experience and knowledge that has saved people's lives.

"So, if I am just a nurse, then I am ridiculously proud to be one!"

Today, this post has been reported in a range of outlets in Europe, America and Australia. She has received thousands of messages, and her original post has been translated into 12 languages.

She believes her words resonated globally because nurses are so often undervalued, diminished and poorly paid: "The nursing profession has evolved enormously over recent decades," she said, "and the qualifications and ongoing professional development required has aided in the clear delineation between doctors and nurses being blurred – however our remuneration has advanced at a far slower rate." 

It's an indictment on all of us, when devoted, competent nurses in our midst, on whom we all rely, are diminished or rendered invisible. Our health system is facing enormous structural challenges; Brassington's experience shows the greatest advocates of our patients still don't want to be standing idly on the shore.

Twitter: bairdjulia