Goodbye Month of October, You Sucked

So who’s glad to see October go?

That month can suck my….well you know. I don’t think there were two days in a row that I liked in October (a couple days here and there that were “ok”). But I mean…even Halloween was lousy. Tainted by learning of a tragedy that far out ways anything to have happened to me.

But now it’s gone. So now, November is going to be better, right?

God I hope so.

I get off orientation in 5 days. *Gulp*

So I get to “play nurse” for real. No more people looking over my shoulder, no more excuses. It’s all about me now.

Wow…never thought this day would come.

….Never thought I’d be this scared about that day.

I’m not going to lie, my orientation hasn’t been what I thought it would be. I’ve watched some nurses get eaten alive on orientation (and thus sucked as nurses) and I’ve watched others get shown everything everywhere and they are stellar nurses.

Me? Mine was a roller coaster ride of what I could and couldn’t do. Of what I HAD to do, and then what I should do. Mixed in were a bunch of times getting tossed under the bus, and getting reamed for doing things for patients that cost time.

Every “good” nurse I’ve ever known says that orientation is the basis of your nursing career, it’s how you base the rest of your work on it – well, sorry it ain’t happening. I’ve learned some very important things; other things have just sucked on it. So therefore I’m going to be starting over. Relearning and figuring everything out.

After all, I’m too thick headed and stubborn to give up. I will find my way, and I will knock the pants off it!

So, nursing will really begin in less than a week.

The question is, what do I do with the rest of my life? I mean you can’t just work right? I know nurses that do, and they are damn good at their jobs. But that’s not for me is it? That’s not all I’ve got left in the tank is it? At 23??

Honestly, I don’t know. I’m tired of being alone, but I’m tired of playing games. I’m tired of being the “nice guy” but not willing to be the “bad boy.”

I guess we go for status quo. And for me that means waiting, just seeing what the future holds. Sounds good to me.

So, it seems good that October is ending, maybe the future will get brighter!

It’s always darkest before the dawn, right?

If that’s the case… Then well November is starting on a really crappy way of starting.

Last night I went to the calling hours of a former coworker. A 20 year old kid. Who was quick to laugh, slow to complain and always up for hard work.

RIP Justin Groves

November…your already starting to suck!

A completely unrelated article - about life

I hate being an adult. I hate being mature, responsible, grown-up, etc. I hate all of that.

Because when I have to act "my age" I have to acknowledge that things aren’t going to go my way. That life is gunna suck, more often than not.

But most of all...I don't like it because being an adult means that I have to act like I’m ok when I get hurt. Even when I'm Not OK.

Someone I know once said they don’t like to rant, because they hate people feeling sorry for them. I know the feeling, but I figure this blog is all about me growing up, and sometimes when you grow up, you just got to let off some steam.

So you know what…that’s what I’m going to do…

It’s been 3 weeks.

3 weeks since she told me she needed time/space. Not because of something I did, but because she needed more time to get over her ex.

Ok, that in and of itself I can understand, from a purely outsider standpoint, yes I can understand it – yes it can even make sense.

But I’m not an outsider. I’m me, I’m the boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend I guess). I should have been furious, I should have told her to go to hell, I should have said all kinds of “un-adult” things it would make your hair curl.

But I didn’t. I was an adult, I even ENCOURAGED her to miss her ex, to still care about him, even to try and CONTACT HIM!!! All while inside my heart was ripping itself in half. I comforted her, told her it was going to be ok…I couldn’t bring myself to be a jerk, couldn’t bring myself to be the child I so badly wanted to behave like.

Why oh, why did I fall in love with her????

I even asked if she wanted me to wait for her, and she told me it might be a really long time.

I should have said “Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.” And split… did I? Of course not!!!

I told her I’d wait for her…check that, I PROMISED I’d wait for her, give her time – and if she wanted me back, I’d be there. I PROMISED I’d be her friend through all of this, promised I’d be there for her, no matter what happened.

And you know what, about 2 weeks later I finally got up the nerve to tell her I wasn’t ready to give up. I wasn’t ready to stop fighting for her.

So what now….now I’m not even getting anything in response.

Now I’m left wondering if it meant anything at all. Now I’m left holding the pieces of myself.

Now, 3 weeks later I can say: No, I’m not OK.

Even with the façade I put on, the smile and laugh I throw up every time I wake up in the morning, I still think about her. Still wish I could talk to her, be with her. I’m just not the kind of guy that gets over a girl at the drop of a hat.

And you see there’s that nagging promise…again I’m being the adult person – and keeping my word. No matter the outcome, no matter how much it could hurt me in the end. I will keep it, period. End of Story!

But you know what….it still sucks. It still hurts. It’s still a struggle. And you know what??? Why can’t for once, just once – something go my way???

Alright, I think…I think I’m doing being a child, I think I can go back to being an adult again.

Busy, Busy...Zzzzzzz

So...what's a good day as a nurse?

I'd have to say a day like yesterday. A day where I was so busy that I didn't have time to think about my own problems.

A day where I had to worry about my patients, and not about myself. Yesterday I had a whole bunch of everything. I took care of a kid with a fever of 103.4 (poor little guy looked pitiful). I had a patient who's face was punched in by his sibling's boyfriend (Alcohol does so many wonderful things).

I had a patient that was worryed about herself and didn't complain about anything - she just wanted to makesure she was ok. And then I had about 100 other patients that were normal run of the mill patients.

And that was the first 12 hours. My smart self desided to add 4 more hours to myshift to help out. And in that time...man it was tiring. Again more patients (learned it was a full moon last night, that explains alot). At 5 minutes before I would be able to go home, I took 200 orders from a doc that was half asleep while he was talking to me on the phone. Gotta love my job!

But yeah, all in all it was a pretty good day - didn't have to think about how sucky life outside of the hospital is.

So...um...stuff happens after graduation?

So, it’s been a while since I’ve written. I was actually trying to wait until something super eventful happened. And then when it did, I got busy, or actually just plain forgot about this little blog-o-mine.

But now that I have discovered it again, I believe it’s time to begin again!

So what has happened since I last wrote (…over 2 months ago?) Many many things. After graduation, I received my authorization to test (ATT) – which was my O.K. to take my Nursing Boards (the NCLEX-RN examination). In between those two dates two things happened – there was a celebration (a kind of graduation party) and I met a very wonderful young lady.

So the day of my test arrived June 18^th. I had visited the site the night before so I would know where it was, and how long it would take to get there (actually found out that an old friend was one of the managers of the site). That morning dawned bright and early, after not sleeping well the night before (for some reason I had all these thoughts about failing the test and the last 5 years of my life being for nothing…etc. etc.)

After forcing myself to eat something, and sitting in the parking lot as long as I could I walked in, and signed in. 15 minutes later I was sitting in front of the computer (furthest to the right, next to a wall – specially requested so that I would have the least amount of distractions.) and the test began.

Some of the questions didn’t seem too bad, but as the test wore on I begin to feel like I knew less and less. I watched the numbers climb up 25…35…40…50…60…70….74. I swallowed as I answered question 75 almost begging for the machine to turn off (75 questions is the minimum number needed to determine competency) but still scared that if it turned off I would have failed (after all one of the “smartest” girls in my class had taken the full 265 to determine she was qualified, how was I any better?)

The screen didn’t go off, the world didn’t end, question 76 appeared. I glanced at the timer, I still hadn’t spent a full hour answering questions. The next questions were truly baffling, and I was now down to trying my best to eliminate even one answer.

Then Question 81 rolled around. Honestly I don’t remember the question. I just remember staring at it, because honestly – I couldn’t figure out if there was a wrong answer…their really didn’t feel like there was. After re-reading it a couple times, I decided to just pick the one I thought was right. I figured I had another hundred of these questions anyway, what’s the worst that could happen. So I clicked it.

The screen turned off.

I truly wanted to puke my guts out at that point. I was so sure I had failed. Without a doubt, I was sure I was done for. I sat there staring at the blank screen, wishing I could go back, wishing I had paid alittle more attention in school. But I hadn’t, I was done. I walked out, handed in my erasable pad (that I had written every lab value, and med calc and conversion I had memorized over the past month – none of which I needed) gathered my stuff and went to my car.

That was the longest ride home, I kept thinking about the questions, thinking. I know I failed, caused I missed this, and that. In all the test had only taken me a little over an hour (I was one of the fastest and shortest to finish).

I got home, and called my best friend to chat with him about the test (he had finished in 75 questions, over achieving pain in the butt). We had both heard the “secret” about trying to resign up for the test and not being allowed to, and that meaning you passed.

The test is automatic, and knows whether you’ve passed the minute it turns off (a verification is sent off, which is why it takes longer to find out). But I still had to try. So I went through the whole process (twice about to fall apart because I thought it let me through) and got to the stage where you asked to enter your creditcard info (the theory is, that if you can pay for it, then you failed, if not – you passed).

It wouldn’t let me pay – I tried three times, and each time the same “error” message appeared. It gave me, the tiniest glimmer of hope. I had already planned on going to see the girl I had met after taking the test – it was my strategy to prevent myself from thinking about the test, so I went. Now I would have to wait 2 days before I could PAY to find out my unofficial results.

Those were the worst two days of my life.

Sunday morning (Father’s Day) – two days later. I woke up at 7am and raced downstairs (I had taken the test at 8AM the Friday before) and checked to see my results. The screen read “Pending”. I sagged, I realized that I had no idea when this day (or even if I’d have to wait till Monday) I would see the results. So I went upstairs to get ready for church. At around 9 I saw a missed call from my friend.

I called him back. And he wanted to know if I had checked yet. I asked why. After a dramatic pause he said he had passed. I raced back downstairs. Went through the process, paid my 7 dollars and clicked show me the results. First the screen went white. Then it showed…

…”Passed”…

I went nuts. I bounced off the walls, screamed like crazy hugged everybody I could find. I told my Dad that that was the best Father's Day present I could give him. I Raced upstairs (again) hugged my Mom, both she and I began crying. I had made it…I was really, finally…

…a Nurse!!

Happy Birthday to the "Old"

So…I’m 23

Man, I’m old. Well…at least that’s how a feel some days. I mean at my age, my parents were already married, my grandparents already had one kid – heck a thousand years ago, I’d have been one of the “elders” in a tribe.

What’s funny though…is that it doesn’t bother me anymore. I graduated from college, with a BSN, what does that mean? It means I will be somebody – even if that somebody is just known as “that nurse”. No-one can know haw calming it is to come to this realization, or how calming it is.

I can remember birthdays when I was young, I’d be awake at 7AM, and bounce downstairs – because it was my day. And I couldn’t sit still until after dinner, I didn’t even want to eat cake, just give me the presents!

Then after I turned 21 (remember here in the U.S. that is the “last milestone” in young life) I kind of took a look about it as, wait…1/5 of my life is over (more like 1/4^th) and I would freak out, and try and plan what to do to make the most of my time, and then realize that all the time I had been “planning” I’d been wasting, and then I’d freak out and try to plan “faster”. But, that changed in the last two weeks.

I guess you could say I’ve “mellowed with age”. My birthday is still a day I look forward to, but honestly – on Friday (graduation) I completely forgot it was coming up. Yes it’s special, but it no longer is a day a fear. So what if I only remember part of the first quarter of it, so what if the past 5 years were so slammed that what I remember of them is only bits and pieces. I’ve still got at least one day ahead of me. So why fret.

So unlike when I was little, this birthday has been relatively calm. I did some cleaning, some goofing around, and some thinking. I thought back to graduation, and Christmas and then all the way back to my last birthday. And I have to say, this past year had been great. Not too slammed, not too boring, pretty much par for the course, with the last 4 months leading up to the biggest accomplishment of my life. It’s been one heck of a year.

In this past year, I got my first “real” job, hit a baseball, made some great friends, graduated from college, etc. etc. As you can see – some pretty awesome stuff!. So I guess all there is to do is look forward to the next 365 days. What will they bring? What joys and what elations, what accomplishments, and rewards.

Alright, yes, yes before every one of you pessimists, gets on my case: I know that currently this world is not the most optimistic place. Sure there’s 2 wars in the middle east, North Korea (and Iran) have Nukes. Each day thousands of species of plants and animals disipear from the face of the earth forever, and the president of the United States becomes more and more of a moron.

But what’s there to be worried about? Global Warming? Nuclear Winter, World War 4, The Annihilation of the Environment, and the Extinction of the Human Race? With all that, why not just crawl under the covers, curl up into the fetal position, suck my thumb and wait for it all to end. The point I’m trying to make is, it’s great to think (or worry) about the future, but do it too much, and you won’t be able to move out of the present.

So I’ll look at the positive it that’s ok with you? How about that within a year, I’ll be a registered nurse working in a hospital, driving my own car (a Ford F-150 sounds good) back to my own place. And later that night I’ll go out with a beautiful, intelligent woman (I said I was thinking positively after all!)

But, for now I think I’ll crack the top on a cold beer, put up my feet, and watch the Tigers play the Yankees. I’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow – and it will be ok.

“So Happy Birthday to me, Hooray I’m twenty-three, there’s surely be a lot more, so come on back and celebrate twenty-four.”

Welcome, to the Brave New World!

May 7th, 2010.

I made it.

I sit here staring at my clock at 1:17AM the night of Graduation. And all I can think about is....YES!!!!!!!!!!!

Five years ago I started a journey - they may (or may not have been) for the right reasons. But I stated it at the University of South Carolina. And this afternoon, at 4:14PM...I graduated from that same University, with a Bachelors of Science in Nursing. When they called my name...I couldn't feel the floor, I couldn't feel anything but I could feel the smile, as I walked and shook hands with the dean and the president of the university and I moved that tassel to the left side. I had done it! I was not the royal screw up that I always think I am in my mind. I had graduated from a institution of higher learning, and for whatever it's faults, a top tear college.

So now...at this late hour, I have been "reliving" my past five years. Which started with a naive, homeschooled, freshman walking into his first class (German 121) sitting down and without much adu - my college career had begun! Over the next 1700 days, I would go through so many ups and downs it would be the longest roller coaster of my life. But I made it, and the final wasn't a down...but the highest up in my entire life!

It all started, with my brain saying "Lets be a doctor, and help people"! So Biology...here I come.

In that first year I learned several valuable lessons - do your work (because nobody will do it for you), study (because a Biology 101 exam that covers the genetic make up of the cells won't just osmoticly fuse into your brain), and realize that there's a long way to go. I got the first C of my entire life, and was happy about it (because, it was that or fail), went to my first Football game (and watched the Gamecocks kick Urban Meyer's Gaters Asses!!!), and learned the hard way that money...doesn't grow on trees. I met some people, made the dean's list, and learned more in 17 weeks than I thought possible.

Then it hit the fan. That spring, I ran into Biology 102 - and the professor from hell. You know, the one who is proud that less than half the class will pass his class. Well I also learned that I loved lab work, but hated plants. Found out that as wonderful as professors could be, there were also the one's who couldn't care, hated teaching, or treated you like the scum between their toes. In this semester I began to seriously doubt my wish to become a doctor, after all, was it really worth this heart ache? In this semester I got my first D, went to my first basketball game, pulled an all nighter writing a paper (for the record, never a good idea). And then had an entire summer to think about what I wanted to do.

Enter into the second year of my college career. I sat through meetings, speakers and Biology 102, again. And about half way through realized - doctors don't do what I want to do. Nurses do, what I want to do. So, I decided at that point - it was time to change. So I busted my butt, made sure I passed all my classes, and without realizing that I might not be accepted, transferred into the nursing program (and was accepted).

That spring, I met the guy who would become my best friend (who also saved my butt in Chemistry and every other nursing course, many times over). Learned that I "Didn't, know "all that"", and that my Mother - who had been a nurse for over 25 years, was a true saint! I also pulled the only 4.0 - straight A semester of my college career. I made the presidents list, started truly going to the Newman club - and making friends there, and started to actually love my schooling. I also went through the hell of a breakup, after 4 years with a girl whom I thought I would spend an eternity with - as it turns out...I was much better off afterwords.

But I made through the next 12 months of lower division of Nursing school - and was accepted into the college of nursing's upper division - one of 180 (and 1 of 7 guys). And then....then the fun began.

That first semester of upper division, I learned that sleep - is a luxury, not a guarantee, I learned that I hated care plans, that patients found ways to get poop on everything, except the bed pan, and that taking care of someone who was dying, was not only a duty, but a privilege. I also learned that...I had a big mouth, and a habit of getting on the professors shit lists. I learned that you had to know everything and anything they said, you read, or existed in their imaginations, because you would be tested on it. But I made it! I still made it through that first semester.

Then the second one started...and I helped birth a baby, and in the process learned...I didn't want to be an OB/GYN nurse, I learned that no matter how many times you tell a kid you don't have a shot, they still cry whenever you come in the room, and that sometimes patients lie...a lot. But I had started learning more, I was remembering medications (don't give Digoxen if their heart rate is below 60), and was learning that I could ask for help, because...boy did I need it. I skirted with suspension, continued to stay in the doghouses of professors, but began to build a closer nit group of people whom I relied on, and who were going through it all. I began to also realize how important several people truly were to me.

So my final year started, in this year I lost my first patient, lost my second patient, had to work harder than I ever had before because of fear of not passing and not graduating. Watched several friends lives explode and then begin to be rebuilt. I performed CPR on a human being for the first time, got chewed out by doctors, nurses, professors, family members, friends and I think the kitchen staff more times than I could count, but never stopped asking questions. Was kicked out of my first, and final clinical, helped care for patients with bi-polar, skit, borderline personality disorder, and every other mental condition known to man - and realized...I'm not nearly as crazy as I thought.

And then we come to this semester. the big one, the final one. The one to end them all! I started the count down, it got closer (120 days, 100 days, 50 days, 30, 10 5...1 day). I learned how ER's work, learned that sometimes it's smarter to keep your mouth shut than to rock the boat (and then rocked the boat anyway...once again landing me in a doghouse). I gave report on patients, took a whole patient care load, felt what it was like to truly get slammed, be so busy you forget to pee, let alone eat. By the way though...patients still manage to poop on everything...except for the bed pans. As the days got closer, I began to worry more and more, that I had forgotten something, as one by one the grades began to show up, I was still scared.

Then it was the day before graduation. The Pinning ceremony. This is when it started to feel real, I was really going to do this - but I still didn't dare let myself believe, because, you never know what's going to happen (remember I have a habit of sticking my foot in my mouth). I walked across the stage and got my nursing pin, and...I couldn't help but smile I was so close, and with my family cheering for me in the audience, it felt so wonderful. That night, myself, my family and my best friend celebrated our accomplishments).

The next day - today - was graduation. I couldn't sleep the night before, was up early, got everything set up - decorated my mortarboard, and then tried to sit still - which didn't work. After getting to graduation, I said hello to some friends, congratulated some people, and then waited for it to start - all the while, slightly hyperventilating, running a slightly tachacardic heart rate (220 bpm is ok right??), not daring to believe it was happening.

The Ceremony began, it was nice, the speaker was interesting, and people began walking up. Then I stood up, suddenly I started to think...wait, is it going to happen? Really, Really? I smiled at my family as I walked by them, smiled at the professors as I walked by them. And then heard them call my name, and I about exploded. I did it...I really had done it. I crossed the stage, shook the hands, moved my tassel, made the sign of the cross - and I had done it. I had graduated. I know the rest of the ceremony happened, and I remember it - but all I thought about was....I MADE IT!!! The car ride home, dinner, and then relaxing here tonight, I couldn't stop thinking about it - I had done it.

So I think it is only fitting that I end with the most important part of this, there are many people who helped me on my journey, but there are four in particular that I need to recognize: they truly helped me make it.

First I want to thank my Dad. Without him, my papers would not have passed a 4th grade level, my study habits would have made kindergartners laugh, and my work ethic would have been non-existent - if I graduated, it would not be with the 3.18 that I did, it would be with something that I wouldn't be proud of. You showed me that doing the right thing, wasn't always easy, or fun, or popular - but it was still, the right thing! Dad, if it wasn't for you, as both a teacher and a father, I don't believe I could have made it through some of those assignments, you helped me so much and I can never repay you enough. Thank You, and I love you!

My little brother, you pushed me - maybe without knowing it, to always show that I could do something, to always TRY and give a good example, especially when you were better at something. You showed me that many things you do, may not be popular with other people, but may be the right thing to do. You may not realize it, but you truly are an inspiration to me, and someone I look up to - I think, no I know - that without you always there, I'd have simply faded into the background instead of constantly wanting to be better and always be leading the way. Thank You, and I love you!

Next came my best friend: Michael Zane, without whom I may have not passed classes, for my problem about not always reading everything, being a trouble maker, etc. But Michael, you made me (several times coming to my house, and forcing me to do it) do my assignments, you helped me find ways around my frustrations with professors, and with the system - and you helped me study for tests that I had no idea about. You also have been an amazing roll model, friend and "older brother". Thank You, and I love you!

Finally, I have my mother. The 25 year veteran of nursing, who pushed and prodded me to do my best. The one who showed me that it's ok to care about other people, and who showed me that it's ok to fight for what you believe they need - even if it makes you unpopular. I saw that you will have bad days, and good days - and I saw that it was ok to cry after loosing a patient, or get mad after something happened. But you also showed me the love you had for this profession, and the determination to help others, and for that, no one else could have given it to me. If it wasn't for you as a mother - I don't believe I could be the kind of nurse I want to be. Thank You, and I love you!