Life Happened

but there is some good news. My kids are happy, healthy and loving school. Even Davis. It's only been four days, sure, but I'll take what I can get. She runs to the bus every morning with a smile and gets off every afternoon with a smile. Sydni is always a saint. She has also been watching her little sister like a hawk too and that just makes my heart swell. I can't ask for more.
Me and school? Not so many smiles. I'm way behind on my reading. Mike has been off this entire week and with him home, I don't get much done. I start clinical next week and it's scaring me to death. We're going to be in a long term care facility and I am unsure of how I'll feel about that. I think I can take it some days and others, not so much. They prepare us for smells, for sounds, for sadness, for death; things we may have never experienced before. But no matter how much you think you know, there are things you won't. I actually have to interact with clients now. I have to talk to them and touch them and take care of them. Most of them are in their last days and a lot of them, so I hear, are lonely and just like the attention. I get attached and I have this thing about old people, my dad is one, and I just don't know how it's all going to affect me. I'll love it or I'll leave in tears and I hope I come out feeling the former.
My first drug dosage test is on Thursday and no matter how many times I've said to myself, one tsp equals five mils, I just can't seem to memorize it. That and about 20 other conversions. There are flow rates, IV calculations, BSA's, reconstitutions, and don't even get me started on Peds and remembering when to round to the tens or the hundreds. I feel like throwing up every time I think about it. It's so much. I only have myself to blame for not knowing it all by now though. We receive three attempts to score a perfect 100%. However, the grade we score the first attempt is the grade we keep. If, for some reason, we don't score a 100% after three tries, we are "excused" from the program and can try again next fall....if there is space. They simply tell us, "Get the 100% the first time and be done with it." They make it look and sound so easy. Math has never been my gig and I want to die every time I hear anyone talk about next Thursday. I know I won't pass it the first time but, by god, I will pass it. Third times a charm.
I have a group seminar on some crazy topic due on the 18th. ALREADY. There are seven of us and we have to fill up an hour talking about nursing implications of something other than something. I'm still unsure. And so is my entire group. And it includes two other the super-smartest people in the program. Hopefully I can do the power point and they can do all the talking. Riiiiggghhht.
So then I have an exam on the 15th and the 22nd, and Davis' b-day is coming up SOON, and some other crazy things in between. If you don't hear from me for a while, you'll know why.

Labels: college redux, crazy, me

This week was particularly trying. I say that and as I type, I remember, that next week will be quite a bit more trying. Nursing school was exactly what everyone told me nursing school would be. It was rough. If I were one of those smart girls, I'd have read all of the required chapters before the semester even started. I'd know how to calculate IV drip rates without confusion and I'd be able to differentiate between adventitious lung sounds with ease. But I'm not and did none of those things this summer. Instead I played with my children, took naps, lounged by the pool, went on a vacation and spent a lot of time at work. I don't regret that. But when thrown into the lions den, once again, I start to re-think my rationales. I really, really need to brush up on my drug dosage calculations. We take the test the week after next and I am SCARED TO DEATH. It's the one thing that I've always been afraid of. And when I'm afraid I do the exact opposite of what I should, I ignore and deny. There are so many opportunities to study, to sit with my advisor, to receive help from the tutoring center; but I haven't. We must score 100% on this the first time. It's 5% of our final grade too. The entire first week of classes and lab I just wanted to pretend like I wasn't there. I wanted to be back at the beach, to just work at "where I work" forever and forget about the whole thing. I swear, for a few fleeting moments, I wanted to bag the entire gig and say, "Nice try. But forget it." It became THAT overwhelming to me all at once. At my first lab where we learned about PO meds (by mouth), I started to get that old familiar feeling. The one where my head goes light, my heart beats in my throat, I start to sweat, my arms tingle and my chest tightens. I'd forgotten all about my old friend, the anxiety attack, until the room started to spin. But once it starts, even when you know what it is, it's very hard to talk yourself down. I feel like a crazy person, I swear. I don't WANT these things, when they happen it's totally out of the blue (not at a moment when I'm consciously thinking about how I need to start flipping out about my DD exam), and I really feel like I'm stronger than a person who flips out about nursing school. But apparently, I'm not. And it's really starting to get on my nerves. Because now, now that I know my body will flip out, I think about it all the time. I'm all, "Hope I don't flip out today." I start to freak when I get the slightest little twinge of pain in my chest or blur of my eyes. And it's like anything you think about too much, or maybe that's just me, but it snowballs.
But all that aside. I rocked my first week. And I know now that I can do this (I even went and bought my FIRST school t-shirt that says "Blahblah Nursing" - which is monumental in itself because I swore that I'd never EVER wear anything other than a Radford t-shirt - I'd be betraying the only college I'll ever love - I still kinda feel like a traitor though). Even when my hands are dripping with sweat and tingling with fear, I walk into the room and do what I've been taught to do. What I've studied to do. I say to myself the entire time, as impossible as the task may seem at the moment, "You know how to do this. You can do this. You are strong." I don't know how deep this anxiety will go or how it will affect me in the future, but I'm ready to take it on head first. I feel like I'm one step ahead so far because, this time, it didn't send me running for home. Something in your brain tells you to run, or at least mine does, but I was able to hush my brain to a whisper...this time. I performed my full physical assessment and took vital signs perfectly in front of the HON and then did my first sub q and IM injections (on a dummie) in front of my advisor. The latter was a practice session before the real skills check-off, but I did well and the only advice on my skills sheet was, "Smile and interact with the client more." I need to remember that. When we start clinicals the week after next, I'm going to be dealing with real people with real feelings and real emotions. I think I will. It's hard to interact with a dummy and the one thing I'm not is an actress. I cannot put on a show. When push comes to shove, I can do what I'm supposed to do.
One of the girls in my lab group came out of her check-off and said, "Gosh. I feel like we should have a party after this." And it reminded me of one of my favorite lines from Grey's Anatomy. One that, when I revealed to them what it was, we all decided should be our mantra for rest of our two years together. AT THE END OF THE DAY THE FACT THAT WE HAVE THE COURAGE TO STILL BE STANDING IS REASON ENOUGH TO CELEBRATE.

Labels: blah, college redux, crazy, friends, health, life, me

As I walked down the hallway to the nursing office today I saw many familiar faces. We all said "hello" and talked about what we've been doing for the latter part of the summer. We congregated in front of the office and marveled at all the new "dummies" and several new "sim men" we saw in the virtual hospital. One great thing about where I attend school, we have top of the line equipment. I noticed, as I looked around, that there were girls sitting quietly, listening to us intently, with placement test results in their hands. They were the "hopefuls." Eyes wide and eager to hear what we had to say. I even heard one girl, as she rounded the corner to the office exclaim, "Oh my gosh this is so exciting!" I remember feeling exactly the same way every time I'd roll into that office to meet with an advisor...just to make sure I was on the right track and taking the right pre-reqs. I was so eager and excited to get started already and now, here I am. Starting. Finally.
When I finally met with my advisor we went over all of my credentials and thankfully they were all in order. I also signed twenty thousand confidentiality agreements and now I can attend clinicals. We went over my comprehensive final exam from "boot camp" and she was very happy to only have to review the answers to six questions! We also talked about other items of interest and then she says, without the blink of an eye, "Well you aced your check-offs for vital signs and physical assessment during the summer so you won't have any trouble the first week of labs doing it again." What? "Yes, be prepared to come in full uniform the first week of labs because you'll be checked off on both of those skills again. Oh, and don't forget to press your uniform." Okay then. I presumed that when we were done with a check-off, we were done with a check-off. I can take vitals and can perform a full physical assessment including percussion, auscultation, palpation, and inspection. Although I will fully admit that I can't always distinguish between adventitious lung sounds and can't detect a murmur to save my life....or anyone else's for that matter. So I suppose I do need a little work which is where Sim Man and open lab comes in. Last time Davis had bronchitis she was very helpful too!
I feel as if I'm at a crossroads. Or maybe an impasse. I don't know. I think I've actually gone through the crossroads already and I know I've gone the right way but I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet. There is still so much left ahead of me and I'm having a hard time with how excited I feel versus how much guilt I feel too. There is a lot of guilt and yet, sometimes I think there isn't enough. Sometimes I think I'm missing out on too much. Sometimes I think I should want to be around more often. The kids will be in school all day now which is a blessing in disguise. Because my heart could never go through with this if they weren't. I think I've given them, Mike included, a fairly decent home for the last eight years. I'm a good mom and I have great kids. I know that for sure. I'm fortunate to have been able to be here and I feel good about the job I've done so far. I'm happy with the way things have turned out (I'm well aware of the things I still have to do). The way things are going. I just really, really want to get back out into the world. I want to wake up and go to work and come home and ask my kids about their day and help Mike cook dinner. I want to come home and complain about MY boss (sure I've held a part-time job for 5 1/2 years but there's no brain power involved in that job - it's fun and a getaway and I feel guilty calling it "work" most of the time). I want to feel like I'm contributing something to this family other than the new recipe for dinner I came up with the other week. "Look how clean the bathroom is!" "I steam cleaned the carpet today!" "Four whole loads of laundry done and I put the dishes away too!" I'm more than that and yet I'm proud of that part of me too. I want to earn paid vacation time and with two incomes, be able to jet off to exotic places during my three weeks a year. Just a normal life. There's nothing wrong with that right?

Labels: college redux, crazy, current debate, double trouble, lalalove, life, me

I was just on the phone with someone and they told me that I was, "very lucky to have someone else pay for my books and tuition." At first I was all, "yes." But the more I thought about it and the way she said it, it started to piss me off. Telling someone they're lucky indicates that the universe just dropped this scholarship off on my doorstep without me having done a thing to deserve it. I worked for this scholarship. I earned good grades and I wrote essays and I went on interviews. It didn't just show up because I scratched a ticket and got lucky. In fact, I would say that if it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all. So it's definitely NOT luck. It won't be luck when I whoop her ass this semester again either.
Mike keeps asking me why I pick up the phone when she calls. I don't have an answer except for the fact that I feel sorry for her. I don't want to be mean. I really don't. Somewhere, deep inside, I know she's battered and beaten like the rest of us and I'm just waiting for the "real her" to come out. For some reason I listen to her crazy stories, shut up when she talks over me, and take it when she indicates that the only reason someone trusted me with their money is the fact that I'm "lucky."
I don't know why I do this to myself. Several years ago, pre-Mike and children, this would've never flown. Am I really this soft in my old age?

Labels: blah, crazy, current debate, friends, me, school time, stupid people