Semester Two, Week Two

My brain is fried.

My butt is kicked.

How do I go on for another 13 weeks? How?!?

Class Monday, then clinical prep work for 2+ hours, then clinicals all day Tuesday and Wednesday at 6:30 am with a 20+ minute drive into the city. Class Thursday, IV lab Friday. Attend those, and make sure you study.

Our first exam was yesterday, and while I passed (barely) I am wondering what happens if I happen to fail this portion of the semester. I've mostly decided if I fail that I will not re-enter the program again at a later date. That could change, but man, the humiliation of telling everyone "hey, I failed" coupled with trying (again) seems like too much. I'll become a phlebotomist, medical assistant....give up the RN dream much as that would break my little heart.

Something internally though tells me that I will pass.

I study like a maniac. I mean, I committed to passing. So, if I do fail, it won't be for lack of trying. I think in part what went wrong with yesterday's exam was that I studied the wrong material. I was prepared for everything but what I was tested on. That, and I guess I don't really have the best critical thinking skills. Awesome. I'll work on that, too.

Wednesday, during clinicals, I had a realization: I finally know the purpose behind what I was doing. While I was performing an assessment on my patient, it (whatever it is) finally clicked. I was all that and a bag of chips, as one of my professors used to say. I rocked that head to toe exam, if I do say so myself. For the first time ever, I felt like a nurse. When it was my long awaited day of administering meds to my patient, I knew what I was giving and why. I knew when administering rapid acting insulin that my patient needed to eat shortly after administering the medication. I finally understood, and it felt so amazing. There is a new found confidence in applying what I spent all last semester learning about.

I worry that I am not smart enough. This internal demon of mine, this uphill battle, this constant struggle of "You're an idiot and it's going to manifest itself" constantly makes an unwelcome entrance into my thoughts in lecture, clinicals, exams, you name it.

It's interesting, what we're learning. Heart failure, hypertension, CAD, PVD...I love it. Medicine has my heart. I want to get it, and so I study, study, study. It's just a lot. And I'm tired, so physically exhausted.

I just have to buckle down. I am determined to do better on the next exam in two weeks. I see this as a challenge. I am trying, I am giving 100%.

If it was easy, everyone would be doing it, right? It's (almost) worth the struggle.

Onward.

Semester Two, Week One

It began with a bang on Tuesday. Introduction, and then Fluid, Acid-Bases, and Electrolytes lecture. Meanwhile, throughout the entire lecture, I had no idea what my professor was lecturing on (H+? Acidosis? Alkalosis?) but I took the notes, imagining how I was going to tell everyone that I failed out in nursing school.

Wednesday, we had a math exam for clinicals. Pass with a 100%, you're still in the program, Anything less than 100%, you get one more try. Fail that, and bam, you're out.

I nearly died. For starters, my heart was flying and my hands were shaking throughout the entire exam, which really was only a quiz; 10 questions total. But, it was actually pretty easy, and I got a 100% on my first try. Hallelujah.

Thursday was four hours of lecture, and so it will go for the remainder of the semester.

And Friday was IV lab, where I learned about flushing IV's and changing bandages.

This semester is sure to kick my butt, and the amount of studying I have put in to try and even comprehend our first lecture is the rough equivalent to how much studying I put in grand total to the entire first semester. But, I can now recite to you the causes of metabolic and respiratory acidosis and alkalosis, and feel pretty confident in the rest of the material. First exam is Friday the 30th, so off we go. Insanity for the next 8 weeks of Med-Surg one, and Lord willing, once I pass that, we segway into Maternal Child Health.

The good news is, I still want to be a nurse. I just know this semester is going to be an uphill battle every step of the way, with lecture, studying, clinicals two days a week, and holding down a job.

Also, what's nursing school without a wee bit of drama?

Remember the cheating gal from last semester who duped instructors while passing clinical calculations? She also had a partner in crime.

Her partner in crime and I were friends on facebook, until she deleted me. I suspect she found this blog, which is okay, because I'm not keeping this blog a big secret.

Naturally though, I sent her a message; it read like this:

Hi ____,

I just noticed we're no longer facebook friends! Hope I didn't do anything to offend or upset you...if so, I apologize!

Anyway, hope your new year is off to a great start, and I'll see you in a few weeks! :)

She replied:

Heck no!! That was an accident. Ugh!! I requested you again. I think you accepted.

There's a couple problems here:

1) Deleting someone off of facebook by accident is almost impossible

2) She didn't actually request me again, so there was so way I could accept said false request.

So, thinking that maybe she was a little bit nutty, I took the initiative and sent her another friend request.

She denied it.

People, if you're going to delete someone off of facebook, don't lie about it. That's stupid.

Anyway, since school began, cheaters 1 and 2 now make sure to give me their best mean girl glares.

It's so intimidating.

Not. Ha! Drama is so fantastic.

Moral of the story is, don't cheat on exams, and don't be dishonest as you're entering into a very noble profession. Don't cover up a lie with another lie. And, if you're one of the cheaters and reading this blog, well, I'm not sorry. I will continue to be courteous to you, even if you try to give your very best glare, because I have morals. And I will become a nurse the old fashioned way: through not cheating.

Semester One, Week Sixteen (Aka: Sweet Relief)

When I finally decide to make this blog public, people are going to see how crazy I really am. This blog feels more like a diary than a public format kind of entry.

I've learned some things this semester:

1. I'm the luckiest girl in the whole world and I often don't even act like I am. I fail to see, every hour of every day how graciously the Lord has blessed me. True, I may not have everything I want, but I am where God wants me to be. The future is cloudy, but beside me is God. And that is all I need. He provides.
2. I have an amazing support system. 
3. I do okay being by myself. Transitionally, it was difficult, but I learned to make the best of my time.
4. I will always feel like the idiot in a room full of geniuses. I will likely never think of myself as a "smart" person, like I'm tricking the whole system, but that's okay. I'd rather doubt my intelligence than be cocky, thinking "I got this."
5. I'm not as dumb as I thought I was. :)
6. God is good, all the time. Even when I can't see/feel/hear Him. 
7. I don't need friends to survive, but it sure is nice to have someone around.
8. I love nursing school even more than I initially anticipated that I would.

I finished my first semester of nursing school with straight A's. The A's making all my manic hours worth it.

Some of my classmates reached the "I don't care what grade I get, so long as it's above 77%" mindset.

I dare not settle into that frame of mind.

As was the initial goal of mine when I began this journey, I don't want you to get me as your nurse and have to settle for the RN who stopped caring, and merely wanted a C in school. I want to be your nurse who pushed herself, for you, my patient, giving the absolute best care. I want be the nurse who gave nursing school 100%, not for a 4.0 GPA, but because your life and your health matters to me.

And above all, it gives glory to God to see how He can take a mediocre student who believed that nursing was God's calling in her life, stepped out in faith, and against all odds, triumphed.

I don't know if I'm going to pass, if I'm going to graduate, pass NCLEX and become an RN. I constantly feel like I'm going to fail, but I think that's what keeps me relying on God, and what keeps me going. I'll be darned if I don't give nursing school 100%

A few months ago, I attended a church, and the woman I sat next to asked me to share a bit of my story. I relayed the nursing school story, and she flipped open her Bible, sharing this verse:

"...He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ."
Philippians 1:6



See you in January.

Onward!

Semester One, Week Fifteen

"You may begin your exam."

My heart pounding, I begin to look over my math final; the test that will make or break me, so far as being a nursing student is concerned.

One row down from me, I spot her: my classmate who ever so slyly pulls out a highlighted note card from the right pocket of her jacket. I watch her place it in her lap, and begin the conversion portion of the exam. 

Adrenaline shoots through me; I turn to my classmate in disbelief; she too looks stunned. I kick the seat of the girl sitting in front of me. Weeks prior, she had asked me to provide moral support as she told the nursing faculty of what she had witnessed during our last math exam: a student cheating with a well placed note card. They were bound: Unless they themselves witnessed the actual event, there was literally nothing they could do. 

My classmate whispers "Tell her!" And so, with fear and trepidation, I walk down to my professor and say "She's got a note card in her lap, right now." My professor says "Really?"

I head back to my seat, trying to work on conversions, my hands trembling, heart flying, mind racing. A moment passes; I watch my classmate keeping an eye on the professor. If she thinks she is danger, she slips the note card underneath the bottom portion of her jacket.

Minutes pass, then an hour. Absolutely nothing is done. My professor makes rounds about the classroom, but this student has the art of cheating down to a T.

Nursing faculty come in to the room, while my math professor leaves. Still yet, nothing happens.

My math professor returns; I arise to ask her a question regarding the exam; she asks exactly what I saw; I relay the pulling the note card out of her right pocket story.

Cheating student turns in her exam, and leaves, never caught. 

I hand in my exam; my professor, in hushed tones apologizes, and thanks me for my courage. But; she didn't witness the event, and so her hands are tied.

It is difficult to watch someone cheating, especially with a class that I have fought tooth and nail with to comprehend. To see someone whip out a note card to use at their leisure while the rest of us are having to use recall just seems incredibly unfair.

My classmates and I once more discussed the issue with the head of the nursing program, but each time we are met with the same answer: "We didn't witness it; there is nothing we can do."

"There is nothing we can do." ...I hate those words.

Strange this is, I used to admire this girl. She's bubbly and personable; she's got a good attitude and is enthusiastic. My respect for her has dimmed, and yet, I still treat her as if I am none the wiser.

When all is said and done, though; I know I did the morally and ethically correct thing. Plus, I actually earned my A in math for clinical calculations; a class I feared for years. 

This week also brought about the end of pharmacology. I was not well prepared for the exam, and found a million other things to do besides study. A few classmates and I studied together, though, and I am proud to say I earned an A in that class, too. 

First semester is coming to an end.

Monday, after I've taken my Fundamentals of Nursing final, and the grades are released, I'll bid adieu to semester one. 

Hallelujah.

Semester One, Week Fourteen

Thanksgiving break has finally arrived. I've flat run out of energy for the semester, but, I don't get to take a break from my studies, for when I return from break, I have my math final Monday (scream) and my pharmacology final Thursday (yelp).

This week was very non-eventful school wise. We learned how to give intramuscular and subcutaneous injections. True fact: The gluteus maximus is no longer the preferred site for deep muscle injections. Apparently, too many folks were inadvertently hitting the sciatic nerve (youch!) So now, we give these intramuscular injections....wait for it.....in between the anterior superior iliac spine and the iliac crest.

We had a fundamentals of nursing exam on Monday, that I thought went pretty well, but apparently this was a tough exam, and I received a B. Better, compared to some of my classmates who failed or got C's. Surprisingly, I only minded a little bit. I still have an overall A in the class, and I only have the final left. The final that's worth 200 points. I could still manage to pull off an A.

Last week, I wrote about the desire to have a real life conversation with someone. Well, it occured to me that it's okay to reach out to people and ask them to hang out. (I have this deep seeded fear of rejection, hence why I rarely ask anyone to do anything with me. Lame, I know.) Anyway, I reached out to a friend Monday night, and it turned out to be a really enjoyable evening. He treated me to dinner, which at this point is life saving, being that I have very little money, and then we watched football, and chatted. It was enough for this little nursing student to feel human again. I did the same thing with another friend Wednesday, and sure enough; it was uplifting.

My roommate came home early Wednesday evening and told me she thinks I spend too much time in my room, and she'll start calling me Rapunzel from now on. It's simply where I study best. Besides, I'm fatigued almost all the time, and my joint pain is slowly returning. I go where I'm comfortable.

Pretty boring entry for this week. Until next time.

Semester One, Week Thirteen

Last week was so hellacious, I didn't even get a chance to write until now.

Not really.

My comps, a demonstration of the skills I have learned this semester are officially "up there" as one of the most terrifying moments of my life. For one, I suffer from stage fright something awful. And when this happens, up goes the heart rate, breathing pattern, hands begin to shake, and my memory becomes cloudy.

So while I'm trying to demonstrate to my mannequin the skills I will be performing on her today, simple words evacuate my mind, and I'm left standing there, throwing any words out that I can remember from class. "S1 and S2 sounds ausculated! Clear, crisp! Lung sounds clear, no adventitious sounds, equal chest rise and fall, eupneic, capillary refill less than three seconds, equal bilaterally, brisk."

On and on it went; my hands shaking throughout, desperately trying to recall, and demonstrate that I am a worthy first semester student.

And, it went fairly well, until the foley catheter demonstration, where I forgot about this handy thing called sterile gloves. You need those babies in order to insert a catheter without introducing bacteria. I saw them, and removed them from my catheter kit, and got busy removing the betadine swabs from the kit, until my instructor made a dreaded buzzer sound (can't you hear it in your head?) and pointed out to me my fatal error. I mean, really? Catheter without sterile technique? Sarah!

She was gracious, and did not dock off every point I deserved.

In fact, she told me I did everything else almost perfectly, and she initially thought I just may be one of those 100% students (until the catheter incident of 2014.)

I passed, with an A.

The rest of the week included a pharmacology test (96%!) and a culture presentation (my group earned an A!)

I signed up for second semester. It's happening. One semester almost down.

I think my biggest struggle this semester has been having very limited people I can talk to. I crave conversation; and not just conversation about nursing school. Just a real-life, sit-down conversation. I haven't had one of those in a long time, and it'd be much appreciated. I'm alone so much of the time, and holding a one-sided conversation is plain boring. Maybe one day.

Semester One, Week Twelve

"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.