I hate being a student. Every time I start a new rotation on a new unit with a new teacher, there are hours and hours and HOURS of research to be done. I am expected to be an expert within the week. Physiology, surgical procedures, unit policies, pharmacology, pathophysiology - the list goes on and on.
Farewell, social life, for another four weeks. I look forward to greeting you when I'm done this rotation.
Song of the Day: Morning Yearning by Ben Harper
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
next summer
This is essentially my last summer. Ever.
That sounds melodramatic, but let me explain. This is my last summer as a student. As a nurse, there is pretty much only one thing to do immediately after I finish my final clinical: get a job as a graduate nurse to ensure that I am employed when [and if] I pass my Canadian Registered Nurse Exams [CRNEs]. The hope is to find a casual or part-time position so that I can work and still have time to study for the CRNE [supposedly on June 4, 2012] and the National Council Licensure Exam [NCLEX - the American/International equivalent]. Once registered, I am no longer able to work as a graduate nurse and will have to sign a contract as a RN to remain employed.
Like most professions [I believe teachers are one of the very few exceptions], I will not get summers off. Sure, I can book time off, but in the nursing profession, time off is booked based on seniority. The first time to be booked off is summer and Christmas holidays - the most senior staff [generally the oldest nurses on the unit(s)] get these. Then, things like May long weekend, September long weekend, Easter, etc. After that, random weeks throughout the year. These usually go to the newest nurses. Unfortunately, the better your unit is to work on, the longer the turnover, therefore the longer it takes to build up seniority as you wait for people to retire.
Anyway, I ramble. The point is this: this is pretty much my last summer. And I know that I am so lucky and so spoiled to get to be a little sad about this, but I feel like it needs to be a great summer. And it will. I have got big plans!
Song of the Day: All This Beauty by The Weepies
That sounds melodramatic, but let me explain. This is my last summer as a student. As a nurse, there is pretty much only one thing to do immediately after I finish my final clinical: get a job as a graduate nurse to ensure that I am employed when [and if] I pass my Canadian Registered Nurse Exams [CRNEs]. The hope is to find a casual or part-time position so that I can work and still have time to study for the CRNE [supposedly on June 4, 2012] and the National Council Licensure Exam [NCLEX - the American/International equivalent]. Once registered, I am no longer able to work as a graduate nurse and will have to sign a contract as a RN to remain employed.
Like most professions [I believe teachers are one of the very few exceptions], I will not get summers off. Sure, I can book time off, but in the nursing profession, time off is booked based on seniority. The first time to be booked off is summer and Christmas holidays - the most senior staff [generally the oldest nurses on the unit(s)] get these. Then, things like May long weekend, September long weekend, Easter, etc. After that, random weeks throughout the year. These usually go to the newest nurses. Unfortunately, the better your unit is to work on, the longer the turnover, therefore the longer it takes to build up seniority as you wait for people to retire.
Anyway, I ramble. The point is this: this is pretty much my last summer. And I know that I am so lucky and so spoiled to get to be a little sad about this, but I feel like it needs to be a great summer. And it will. I have got big plans!
Song of the Day: All This Beauty by The Weepies
Monday, March 14, 2011
Oh take and seal it
"Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love."
I find it so frustrating that my heart is so fickle. Even though I know what I believe and I want Him to be the most important thing in my life, I tend to chase after empty dreams and fading flowers. Somehow I can't seem to stop myself. Often it seems to be the absolute most I can do to redirect myself when I realize how far off-track I have gotten.
I know that He is there and that He is calling for me. I want to want Him; I want to be unable to live my life without Him.
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Song of the Day: Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing by Robert Robinson
I find it so frustrating that my heart is so fickle. Even though I know what I believe and I want Him to be the most important thing in my life, I tend to chase after empty dreams and fading flowers. Somehow I can't seem to stop myself. Often it seems to be the absolute most I can do to redirect myself when I realize how far off-track I have gotten.
I know that He is there and that He is calling for me. I want to want Him; I want to be unable to live my life without Him.
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Song of the Day: Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing by Robert Robinson
Monday, March 7, 2011
the disgusting miracle
I helped deliver a baby last week.
It doesn't look anything like in the movies or even on the reality shows where they "let you see everything." It was simultaneously disgusting, incredible, shocking, frightening, beautiful, and just plain amazing. As a student, I was very lucky to be up close, right in the action. As one friend laughingly put it, I was "in the splash zone." [Ew.] But seriously. I held the mother's leg for 90 minutes while she pushed and at the end of that, there was a baby lying on her stomach. A baby! I won't deny that I got pretty choked up, but I couldn't cry because I didn't have any available hands to wipe my face.
After we gave mom a chance to hold baby for a couple minutes, brand-new, delicate, screaming baby was handed to me. I took vital signs [or tried to - it's hard to hear a heart beat and respiration rate while the infant is screaming blue murder], administered the erythromycin eye ointment, and gave the baby it's vitamin K shot [I understand the screaming for that one]. I swaddled baby, and then gave baby back to mom. The look on her face - awe.
I think the look on my face was pretty awe-struck as well. When I entered the room that morning, there was just an extremely uncomfortable woman in the bed and her partner standing next to her. Two hours later, they were parents, with a beautiful baby in their arms. The whole experience made me realize that I am NOT mature enough to do that. I think I could do the whole pregnancy thing, and I really anticipate the day when I get to be a mom. But labour? Not yet, thank you! I told my instructor this and she said to me, "If you're mature enough to assist with labour, which you clearly were, you're either getting pretty close to or already are mature enough to do it yourself." Not comforting.
A good friend, who is also a nurse, told me that you never forget the first delivery you see. I definitely believe that.
Song of the day: Lux Aurumque by Eric Whitacre [translation - light and gold]
It doesn't look anything like in the movies or even on the reality shows where they "let you see everything." It was simultaneously disgusting, incredible, shocking, frightening, beautiful, and just plain amazing. As a student, I was very lucky to be up close, right in the action. As one friend laughingly put it, I was "in the splash zone." [Ew.] But seriously. I held the mother's leg for 90 minutes while she pushed and at the end of that, there was a baby lying on her stomach. A baby! I won't deny that I got pretty choked up, but I couldn't cry because I didn't have any available hands to wipe my face.
After we gave mom a chance to hold baby for a couple minutes, brand-new, delicate, screaming baby was handed to me. I took vital signs [or tried to - it's hard to hear a heart beat and respiration rate while the infant is screaming blue murder], administered the erythromycin eye ointment, and gave the baby it's vitamin K shot [I understand the screaming for that one]. I swaddled baby, and then gave baby back to mom. The look on her face - awe.
I think the look on my face was pretty awe-struck as well. When I entered the room that morning, there was just an extremely uncomfortable woman in the bed and her partner standing next to her. Two hours later, they were parents, with a beautiful baby in their arms. The whole experience made me realize that I am NOT mature enough to do that. I think I could do the whole pregnancy thing, and I really anticipate the day when I get to be a mom. But labour? Not yet, thank you! I told my instructor this and she said to me, "If you're mature enough to assist with labour, which you clearly were, you're either getting pretty close to or already are mature enough to do it yourself." Not comforting.
A good friend, who is also a nurse, told me that you never forget the first delivery you see. I definitely believe that.
Song of the day: Lux Aurumque by Eric Whitacre [translation - light and gold]
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