Lately, and perhaps more and more, it has struck me that I am very likely going to graduate from my nursing program. (This shocks me. Silly, I know.) I have been feeling rather sentimental this week, realizing that this nursing school life I've grown accustomed to is wrapping up. In a few months time, I will no longer be a student nurse. I (potentially) will be an actual registered nurse. Like how, even though I am *this* close to passing, I'm still doubting myself, too? Some thing never change.
Yet another exam passed by; you can guess my grade. But, passing is passing. More humble bragging from some, and, only one more lecture, and two more exams. Time is flying by...
We had our senior photos taken on Tuesday, and again, felt like a dream. I don't know how I've gotten here. Well, I do know, but the road doesn't seem as hard as I know its been. As I sat for my photo, my photographer said he wishes all students looked as natural as I do. Ha! I looked awful, but felt proud.
Attended a critical care nurses meeting, as part of graduation requirements to attend a professional meeting. I felt like there is a distinct possibility of joining a group one day, and that I have great potential; that I am going to go far in my career. (My turn to humble brag). I could totally be wrong about the bright prospects of my future, but this is what I hope and feel.
Clinicals brought about a wave of difficulty this week; there were a lot of patients dying, or having just received notice that they were terminal. I held hands with a patient who was hours to days away from death. The first thing I noticed, as seems to be what I always notice, (See here) was her manicured, hot pink nails. Death was knocking on her soul, and yet, as I gazed upon her polished finger nails, I imagined what she was like when she was healthy, how she must have been feeling pretty good when she got her nails done. Her gasping for air twisted and turned my heart; in part because the loss of my dog is never far from me, but also for the life that was slipping away, and how hard of a battle she was fighting just to live.
I sat in on a palliative care meeting with another patient, and again, hospice was discussed numerous times. The end of a life is....well, I'm at a loss for words. Life ending is so common, yet faced with it multiple times this week made me realize, once more, the value of life, and joy that it can bring. I sat with a patient, who, after receiving news that their condition was terminal, began to reminisce about the good days, the days of laughter, health, fun, and love. As they talked; I reflected: Will it be like that for me? What will I reflect on? Who will help care for me?
Today, as this was the trend, I encountered an individual who was recently diagnosed with multiple myeloma. Their spouse explained to me that treatment was an option, and a good one at that, but why, why did life have to be so unfair? As they lamented, I focused on what I had learned in school: Multiple myeloma is not curable, and early fatality is altogether frequent. I peer into these people's lives and ache, knowing that they are not yet done living, but cancer, or illness has begun to carve away at their bodies, and it's so often a losing battle, fought valiantly, but not victoriously. At least, not on this side of heaven.
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