Semester Two, Week Thirteen

Another week complete.

Phew.

Learned about heart defects this week in the pediatric patient.

We also discussed end of life care in a child, which was plain awful, especially in light that a young man from my hometown had killed himself that very day.

A dark week indeed.

I try to find hope in the midst of sorrow, but suicide gets to me. Kids shouldn't kill themselves. It wraps itself around my thoughts, my heart. I grieve for the loss of a life, and wish the clock could be turned back; I wish his life had been saved. I have trouble concentrating, knowing that many are hurting and there is nothing that I can do to help.

I remember when it felt like my world was ending. In comparison to others very real struggles, mine now seems but a dent on the surface.

I remember telling a handful of people, those I trusted what was going on, explaining the darkness of my soul, the hopelessness, the fear, the hurt.

I've learned that in crisis there are those who partner alongside you because they want the gruesome details, they want to know the story, and they'll touch base, making sure you're okay, but as time progresses, they stop. Is it because they stop caring? Never cared to begin with?  The calls, the texts, words of encouragement fade, even when you reach out to say "hey, I'm still drowning", you're no longer headline news. You don't matter. I've done this before. I too am guilty.

So, you learn to move on, keep it internal, progress with a smile and pretend like you're doing amazingly well, even if you're caving apart on the inside, screaming for a helping hand.

Granted, there are a few that I will remain indebted to for the years to come; the ones who stuck by your side and saw your tears, frustration, emotion and stood by you. I've learned that no matter how little I perceive a crisis, to that person, it very well may be gut wrenching and world ending, and people need to be comforted, lest they lose that glimmer of hope and end it.

Academically, I am still progressing. The final weeks of the semester are difficult, and for the first time in months, I took the evening off from studying on Monday, and went out. It was so incredibly delightful, there's no way to accurately describe it.

But the next day came sadness, and this week has had a dark cloud over it.

Monday, May 4th, I have to miss a mandatory presentation to my class, and an exam, because I've been subpoenaed to be a witness in the state case against my parents. Sometimes, I look at these stressors, and I thank God that my grades aren't tanking, because how exactly does one concentrate well on what a tetralogy of fallot really is, while being consumed with attorney meetings, impending testimony, planning on what to say, worried you'll botch it and send your parents to prison for something they didn't do...? God's grace. That is all.

OB clinicals begin next week. I just need to get through 48 hours of OB clinicals. As previously stated, this is not a course of study that I fancy, but it's a means to an end, so I am studying as often and as much as I can. It's working.

A young child came in to work today to visit their mother, and while it was evident they had croup, they also mentioned the child has not urinated much in the past 24 hours. My first thoughts? 1) check the fontanel for sunkiness, and 2) how much should she be urinating? Well my friend, the answer is 2 ml/kg/hour.

Nursing school is wonderful.