"Do you enjoy putting makeup on women?" I asked the mall kiosk man who somehow managed to grab me, start applying makeup and telling me how old I'll look if I don't buy his special makeup, utilizing an ultra magnified mirror.
He showed me the results. I saw none. What I did see is a tired looking woman, with really dry lips. Said salesman tried his best to persuade me to purchase his product, but the best answer is "I can't afford it, even if I wanted to. I'm a full-time student."
This led into what I'm studying, which led into how he's a firefighter (and you sell makeup on the side??) and then he asked, "Why nursing?"
Why not nursing? Why not this field that has so captivated my heart, left me heartbroken when I couldn't work in it, always dreaming of the day that I could change a life.
I completed my clinical requirements for first semester on Wednesday. I worry about the residents I leave behind, the ones I came to enjoy, and get to know personally. What will happen to them? One asked me to come and visit, and with every good intention I plan to, but I also know life. How it gets in the way, and the people and places that meant everything to us in the moment simply dissipate overtime, till it's like "Oh so-and-so? Yeah, I remember them..."
As an aside, I began a short dose of steroids this week due to my ever increasing joint pain. I didn't realize it until it began working how much pain I've actually been in. For one, I felt as if I had lost 10 pounds. I've forgotten how nice it is to walk, not feeling like you're sludging through water. Being able to stand, sit, go up and down stairs, move without pain, well, that's like a modern day miracle. The steroids were a last ditch effort, but once my doctor suggested it, I took it. And now I see why steroids were once hailed as a cure for arthritis (before all the horrible side effects were discovered, that is.)
Unfortunately, steroids lower your immunity, so that fantastic cold I had last week that stole my voice is still present. I think I have a sinus infection. Just call me the mucous maker. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow to discuss what next, pain wise, and perhaps get some antibiotics for this infection of mine. Being sick makes you value your health all the more. Kids, don't take for granted how nice it is to live pain free, because once you're stuck in that world, all you can dwell on is the pain. I have spent (unconsciously) most of my time formulating ways to not have to bend down, move, go up or down stairs, coming up with plans on how to get back up. This week has been miraculous, if only to realize what life is like when you're not planning your next [agonizing] move.
I took a math test this week and did awful. I forgot everything I had learned. I couldn't round, couldn't calculate, nothing. So, my straight-A score has been erased, but I did meet with my math professor, and all hope is not lost. I can still pull off an A in the class if I do well on my final. I was devastated about my poor grade, but I did feel like crap during the exam, so that served as a distraction. Not that this is my excuse. My poor grade was due to the fact that a) I didn't round and b) didn't show my work. For some reason, I've gotten into the habit of scribbling down my numbers without showing how I did it, or writing down the units. For the final, I'll be better, I promise.
Next week is dubbed "hell week." We have comps; demonstrating a head to toe assessment (I keep dreaming that I totally mess this up), vitals, and either a foley catheter insertion or sterile dressing change. One-on-one time with a panel of my instructors, demonstrating my skills. This counts as a test score, and is a big deal, apparently.
I will write after I've gone through hell and back.
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