withinmyquietthoughts

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Spring 2016 Part 1

Going back to school after Christmas break was rough. When you get married on December 19th, have Christmas with both of your families, and go on your honeymoon in January, it’s hard to come back to reality. This semester was going to be hard, and I knew that going into it. My schedule this semester had me either at clinical or in class Monday through Friday. I had Mother/Baby/Peds clinical on Monday, Tuesday was Adult Health lecture and Health Policy, Wednesday was Pharmacology, Thursday was Family Health, then Adult Health clinical on Friday. That’s a lot…. Like a lot a lot. But I wasn’t going to let it get me down. I went into the semester with positive thoughts and my head held high.

After about two weeks of getting up every day before 5:00am, I was so exhausted. Prince Charming and I lived about an hour away from my school, so driving was the only “me time” I was getting this semester. If I wasn’t in clinical, then I was in lecture. If I wasn’t in lecture, I was driving somewhere. It felt like I never had time to do anything but go to school, go to clinical, come home to study and maybe get five hours of sleep. It was brutal. The only reason I stayed sane through all of this was my friends. I talked about my clinical group in my previous post. We all got assigned to the same clinical group again this semester, at the same hospital, with the same clinical instructor. It was so perfect! “The Dream Team” as we called ourselves was back together again. They were my saving grace; my rock and my light at the end of the long dark tunnel that this semester was turning in to. I also had Family Health clinical with “B” from the Dream Team, which was great because I had no interest in that class. She was really into Peds and wanted to be a pediatric nurse when she graduated. So I just stuck with her as much as I could, and we got through it together. I think that’s when she and I became very close. We were together almost every day and had the same clinicals too. I was very thankful to have her by my side literally every day.

Our Family Health clinical started off ROUGH. We had a terrible clinical instructor, like no exaggeration she was the worst. For example, on our first day of clinical, we all showed up in the lobby of the hospital like we were supposed to. Most of us got there way earlier than the meeting time, but we were also driving from very far away. So once we all got there, we just sat there waiting on our clinical instructor. 0630 came and went, and there was no sign of her. We all frantically checked our phones and email hoping we didn’t miss a cancellation notice. Nope, nothing there. So we waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, after we had been waiting over an hour, she walks into the lobby. Without missing a beat, she starts talking about clinical and what to expect and how she runs things. And then she said, “Clinical starts at 0630. I expect you all to be here on time, but sometimes I can’t get here on time. So the only person who is allowed to be late is me.”

…. I’m sorry. Did I just hear that correctly?

I looked at “B” and she looked just as shocked as I did. What the heck is this lady trying to pull? Is this a joke? Are we being pranked? Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of a horrible clinical experience. Thankfully I had my friends with me, otherwise I would have lost it. Our clinical instructor constantly tried to get us to do things we weren’t allowed to do. She also belittled and bullied us when we didn’t know the answers to her questions, even though we repeatedly told her we hadn’t learned about any of this stuff yet. It was just plain awful. From the beginning, I knew something bad was going to happen. So I immediately emailed my professor and asked for a meeting. I met with Professor H the next day and asked some general questions about what was expected of us at clinical. Mostly what were the things we could and could not do. Obviously, we’re in a very delicate area of the hospital, and we can’t just run around doing whatever we want. She was so nice and so patient with me as I asked all of my questions. I just didn’t want to get in trouble, mainly because I didn’t trust my clinical instructor to know the difference between what we could and could not do. I vaguely hinted that the reason I wanted to meet with her was because I had concerns about my clinical instructor. She told me to keep doing what I was doing and continue to follow the rules. She also told me to come to her any time if things got worse.

As the semester continued, I was getting so worn out from doing school related stuff literally every day of the week. My grades were starting to show it too; as midterm arrived, I realized I didn’t have a passing test average in either of my classes that required a 75 test average to pass. I met with my Adult Health professor to go over my previous two exams. Thankfully, she was very kind and offered a lot of support and guidance. But I was so scared that I had met my match. There was no way I could recover from this. A failing test average in two classes was hard enough, but then I had to keep up with my other two classes in addition to going to clinical two days a week and all of the weekly assignments we had. I left my Adult Health professor’s office and walked straight to my next appointment with Professor H. Since I was currently failing her class too, I had to set up a meeting with her as well. I thought I might as well get both meetings out of the way on the same day.

When I got to her office and sat down, she looked at me and could tell I was on the verge of crying. So she got up from her chair, shut the door and said, “Take five minutes and say whatever you want to say. Say whatever is on your mind and whatever is upsetting you. Then put it behind you, and let’s figure out what we’re going to do to get you through this semester.” I don’t think she will ever know the impact that meeting had on me. It seems like such a small thing, but when I walked into her office, I had no hope left in me. Let’s not forget I was just in this predicament a year and a half ago. So I had pretty much counted myself out at this point. But knowing that a professor had confidence in me and my ability to pass my classes gave me hope. After I finished wiping my face and apologizing profusely for my ugly crying face, she and I went over my exams and came up with a study plan. She was also the first professor to figure out that if I was asked the question verbally and asked to explain my thinking, I usually came up with the right answer. So she told me, “When you’re taking the exam, close your eyes and talk though the question. You know the information. You just have test anxiety. Take it one question at a time.” And honestly, that worked for me. Obviously it wasn’t a perfect system, but I did much better on the rest of my exams after I took her advice.

My Adult Health clinical continued to go well. One day I was selected to go to the ICU for the day. I was really excited about going there because I thought I might want to be an ICU nurse. But it also terrified me because, as the name suggests, the patients are very critical, and a lot can go wrong with them very quickly. I was paired with a wonderful nurse, and she showed me so many interesting things. I spent most of that day going back and forth between feeling like I had found a department that I could really see myself working in, and also coming to terms with the sobering reality that I still wasn’t passing the two classes I needed to move on in the program. And if I failed both of them, I was out of the program. It was like this clinical day was a carrot being dangled in front of me; such a wonderful thing but just slightly out of reach. When our clinical day was over, and we were walking to our cars, I just broke down and cried. Clinical was my happy place with the people I loved being with. And it broke my heart to think that this could actually be the end of all of it. I tried to stay positive and not be so negative, but it was almost impossible when the evidence was glaring at me every time I opened up my grade book. All I could do was study and pray that somehow the numbers would work in my favor.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Fall 2015 Part 2

As the semester continued, I finally realized that I was actually smart. I had almost convinced myself that I wasn’t book smart at all. But a few exams and a lot of hard assignments later, I had three A’s and one B. Holy moly that was huge for me! I never thought I would have those kinds of grades in nursing school. I was also enjoying myself. Now don’t get me wrong, it was difficult and stressful at times. But it was also wonderful, and I loved my friends like family. They seriously saved me in a way I will never be able to explain.

Not only were classes going well, clinical began about halfway through the semester. Because it was our first clinical, we weren’t allowed to do much. Basically we were PCTs/CNAs which didn’t bother me at all. Like I said before, my clinical group was so great. There was never a dull moment with us, and even our clinical instructor said on multiple occasions that we were a mess. Actually, I think her exact words were “I just can’t with ya’ll” but we knew she loved us. We were good students, and as much as we had fun, we also knew when we needed to work and be serious.

The hospital we did clinical at was a smaller hospital, but there was still a lot to learn. I’ll never forget one patient that stayed on that unit the entire time we were there. The nurses and techs called him “bird man”, and after visiting his room, we figured out how he got the name. He was in a cage. Like I’m not kidding it was a glorified cage that went around the hospital bed. (I later learned it’s called a Posey Bed, and it’s a type of restraint.) Another interesting day came one time when “B” and I were assigned to the same nurse. As we looked for her for report, we finally found her basically hiding in a corner down the hall. We introduced ourselves and told her that we were assigned to work with her and her tech that day. She looked at both of us and said “Oh no, I don’t do students.”

I’m sorry…. What?

You don’t “do” students?

Okay whatever.

So “B” and I went back to our instructor and told her what the nurse said. She rolled her eyes and apologized. She told us to work with the tech and do what we could to help. It wasn’t a big deal to work with the tech, but seriously. A nurse who doesn’t want extra help from two students. I mean I get it…. I don’t have blinders on or live under a rock. I know there are nurses out there that find nursing students annoying and think we get in the way. But we’re all adults here, and all we want to do is learn. Other than that one day, our clinical experience was really great. We learned a lot from each other and the nurses and techs that were willing to teach us what the real world of nursing was like.

Classes went well for the rest of the semester. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t used to getting good grades. I was used to struggling until the bitter end and fighting for every point. But this time, that wasn’t the case. I did struggle with my pathophysiology class more than the other nursing courses. Yeah the class that I had now taken three times was still giving me trouble. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have one class that gave me grief. When it was time for our final exam, our patho professor told us that we could bring notes to our exam.

….. You’re kidding…..

Like actual notes?

Yeah like actual notes that we could use on the exam. Now granted, I know it’s easier to just learn the information rather than flipping through pages and pages of notes. But still, this was a huge game changer. Once again, I thought maybe I could pull this off. Maybe I could actually make it out of my first semester of nursing school with passing grades in all of my classes. And not just passing grades, As and Bs. So I spent the next few days putting my notes together, and I even added tabs all over the place to make it easier to turn to the section of info I needed. When the final exam day came, I was so nervous. But my notes seemed to help, and I left the exam feeling like I probably passed (probably being the key word. I was still worried.) As I walked out of the exam, a lot of my friends were throwing their many pages of notes away. Most of them said things like “I’ll never need those notes ever again!” and “I wish I could burn these notes!”. As for me, I held onto mine. What if I didn’t pass and needed to repeat the course…. I would want these notes. See there I go again doubting myself. Bad habits don’t go away that quickly.

As luck would have it, I ended up passing that final exam and all of my exams for that matter. I came out of the semester with three A’s and one B. I seriously couldn’t believe it. Now all that was left to do was to enjoy my Christmas break and marry the love of my life.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Fall 2015 Part 1

My second first day of nursing school was very similar to all first days of the semester. The professors talked about their syllabus, told us which books were mandatory (basically all of them), and then we had our first lecture. I was happy that “T” was there with me because other than her, I didn’t know a soul. I was literally sitting in an auditorium filled with people I had never seen before. I wondered if I would find a close group of friends like I had at my last school. Those people seemed irreplaceable and hard to find.

Our first class of the week was Monday with informatics and pathophysiology, then on Tuesdays it was Health Assessment lecture, and on Wednesdays it was Foundations lecture and Health Assessment lab. Obviously I had taken all of these classes before, but only “T” knew that. Sometimes when I was sitting in class listening to the lecture, I would feel panicked. I guess it was leftover PTSD from my other school. But I was always able to calm down and realize that I was truly learning the information being presented to me. I wasn’t just memorizing facts and hoping I could figure out the concepts; I was truly learning and applying what I was learning. This was such a new feeling for me… Could I actually be retaining some of this? Could I actually apply it in clinical? Could I actually be doing this?

For our first Foundations lab, we were split up into our clinical groups. “T” was not in my clinical group, but that just meant I had to make new friends. And boy did I ever. This clinical group ended up being my saving grace, eight people who became my closest friends in this program. But more on that later.

So as I walked into my first day of lab, I just knew everyone would know my secret. That I had been to nursing school before, and I had done poorly. I just knew it was written all over my face, like a scarlet A on my chest. But obviously that wasn’t the case. My lab group sat down together, and we all introduced ourselves. We immediately clicked and began talking about assignments and check-offs. Throughout the weeks that we were in lab, we grew so close as a group. No other group clicked like we did, and we could tell all the other groups were jealous of us. While everyone was quietly practicing their skills individually, we would be talking together and helping each other. This wasn’t a competition; we genuinely cared about each other’s successes. I think that’s what made us different; when one of us was down, we all helped to pick them up. If someone was struggling with a subject, we all pitched in to help. I don’t think they realized how much I needed them, but then again, we all needed each other.

One day while practicing our skills, I accidentally let it slip that I was in nursing school before. We were trying to demonstrate a skill, and I offered some advice to one of my group members. Then when we had to practice in front of our instructor, I was the only one in the group who performed the skill correctly. Everyone kept saying, “Wow you’re really good at this” or “How did you learn that so quickly”. So with the curtains drawn up around our lab station, I confided in all of them that I had been in nursing school just a year ago, and this was my second attempt at earning my degree. Without skipping a beat, each of them applauded my ability to “get back out there” and were amazed that I jumped back into it so quickly. It was that moment I realized that this school really was different. There was no competition, no one trying to get ahead for their own sake. Each of us wanted to succeed in our own way, but we also wouldn’t see it as success if our friends didn’t succeed too.

As far as academics were concerned, the same rules applied. Not only did we each want to succeed, we wanted our friends to succeed just as badly. Although I had taken all of these classes before, it still didn’t calm my anxiety completely. I still felt that same nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach as each test day slowly approach. When it was time to take our first Foundations exam, I was shaking. All of those negative thoughts came flooding right back in. What if I mess up again? What if I really can’t do this? What if I’m not smart enough to be a nurse? All of the exams were on the computer, which was very different from my last school. It was actually good for us though. The professors would actually meet up and go over the questions we missed and discuss whether or not the question should be “thrown out”. Like I said, this school was so different from my last one. After that class, I had a break until my lab in the afternoon. That was the longest two hours ever. I had to sit and wait, overthinking every test question and analyzing how I could have possibly passed that exam. When it was time to go to lab, I headed back over to the nursing building. I saw a few of my friends, “S” and “M”, sitting outside of the classroom. They were buried in their phones, and as I walked up to them, they both said, “Grades are posted.”

……

I felt my heart jump into my throat. This was it. I told myself to breathe. I had been here before multiple times. Just open up the grade book and prepare myself. I probably didn’t pass, but I knew how to move on and move forward to the next exam. Nothing could have prepared me for the grade I saw in the “Exam 1” column.

98

No. That can’t be right. I don’t make As. I’ve never done that well on an exam the entire time I’ve been in college. But no matter how many times I refreshed the page, the grade remained the same. I guess my friends noticed the look on my face because they asked if I was okay. I was better than okay! I told them my grade, and they were genuinely happy for me. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually doing well in school, and that was something that had not happened in a long time.

I finally had to tell “T” what I made on the exam when I saw her the next day. I thought she would be happy for me just like my other friends; but I could tell there was a hint of jealousy in her voice. She didn’t make an A, but she was nowhere near failing. I tried to reassure her, and I told her I knew how it felt to not do well on an important exam. I reminded her that I had already taken this class before and knew how to answer nursing exam questions, so it was only logical that I did well (even though I had no confidence in myself to do well on any exam no matter how many times I had taken the class). I could tell she was still mad that she didn’t do well and I did, but I tried not to let that bother me. I had earned this. Just a year and a half ago I was clinging to every point just trying to stay alive in the class. There were other examples of her jealousy or anger or whatever it was that she was feeling (I never found out, we didn’t speak much after this semester). One day in lecture, the professor was asking a bunch of questions to the whole class. Most of the time I stayed quiet in our lectures. I don’t like speaking up when I may not know the right answer. But this time it was a subject I knew very well. For the first few questions, I stayed quiet. No one knew the right answers, so the professor answered them for us. Then finally I gathered the courage to answer one of her questions out loud. When I did, and gave the correct answer, “T” looked at me and said, “Shhh!”

….. I’m sorry what?

Shhhh

Don’t shhh me

I knew the right answer, and you had every opportunity to speak up if you wanted to. I wasn’t being a know-it-all. I literally sat there for five or six questions and didn’t say a word. And when I finally get up the courage to say the right answer, you tell me to hush. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of the end of our friendship. More on that later.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

January - July 2015

A lot happened from the time I left my first school to when I got back into nursing school. This won’t be a long post, but I felt like I needed to write something for continuity purposes. When I left school in December, I moved back home with my mom and literally had no clue what the heck I was going to do. Do I jump back into school? Do I take a break? I couldn’t wait too long or my credits might expire or not transfer at all. I had been working as a PCT since I was 19, so I worked a lot while I was figuring out what my next steps would be. I looked into all of the nursing programs near me, and I found one that only required me to take three classes before starting the nursing program. I figured that was about as good as I could have hoped for. I found out later that “T” had also applied to this nursing program (she left our previous school after not getting into the nursing program. So while I was still there, she left and looked into other schools). I was hoping we could both get in and start together; then sure enough, we both applied, and we both got in.

In February, Prince Charming and I got engaged. We set the date for the wedding for December 19th, and for the most part, things were going smoothly. My mom was not happy at all about our engagement. I won’t go into detail about the ten months that led up to our wedding because quite honestly, it wasn’t a happy time. I was living with my mom, so I heard about it every day. It got so bad that I left home for a while. I had never “run away from home” before, but I was literally going crazy. Imagine trying to be happy about something and having someone tell you every day how it was a terrible thing. And every time I got on the phone to make wedding plans and schedule appointments with caterers and event coordinators, she would sit there and smirk and say things like, “This is a huge mistake” and “You’re going to ruin your life” and worst of all “You’re never going to be a nurse if you get married before you finish school”. Like I said, it was a rough time in my life. Thankfully my future in-laws were very supportive, and they were the ones cheering for us. Not to say no one in my family was happy for me. Pretty much everyone but my parents were happy for me. I knew it would be difficult to be married and go to school, but I wanted this and I wanted to be with Prince Charming for the rest of my life.

So apart from planning my wedding with my sister, nothing really happened from February to May. I had to take a May-mester class to satisfy one of the prerequisites for the nursing program. It was an art class, like literal art class. Honestly it was kind of fun… Our lecture was in the morning, and then we went to “lab” and either drew, painted or did whatever we were learning about. Then in June and July, I took two online classes, Developmental Psychology and Sociology, and one lecture on campus, Nursing 101 as I called it. It was basically the fundamentals of the fundamentals. I met some of my future classmates, so it wasn’t a complete waste. I wrapped up my summer classes with all As and started preparing for the start of the nursing program. To say I was scared would be an understatement. I was so scared I was going to fail again, and then it would be all over. All of my existing credits would expire, and I would have to start all over. But I kept telling myself that I could do it, and I knew I would have “T” with me to help me through. It would be difficult being a student and a wife, but I wanted both of those things more than anything. So with my head held high, I prepared for the first day of nursing school (again) and tried to stay positive.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Fall 2014 Part 2

Clinical started off fairly well. We were expected to go into our patient’s rooms on our own and do our own assessments. Then we would report back to our instructor, and she would help us with medication administration. I liked being independent; it gave me a sense of control over my learning. If there was something I already knew how to do, I could move on to something different. The type of floor we were on didn’t allow for a big diversity of patients. I had the same type of patient with the same diagnosis the first, second and third week. There’s no way we’re going to keep this up for the rest of the semester. How will we do different care plans every week?

But our instructor had a surprise for us. Although the school didn’t want us to deviate from our assigned floor, our instructor told us that a few of us each week could go to different departments. My eyes lit up when she said this. I wanted so badly to go into the ICU and see if that was an area I would like to someday work in. I wasn’t interested in the ER or anything else the other students brought up. I wanted to see critical care.

So one day, the instructor let me go to the ICU for the entire shift. I can’t even put into words how wonderful that experience was. School was beginning to get very hard for me, and there was a sign on the horizon that maybe I wasn’t going to pass another class. This wasn’t good because that meant I would be out of the program. So on the day I went into the ICU, I soaked up anything and everything I could from the nurse I was shadowing. Obviously, I can’t go into detail about what I did, but I can say it was one of the best days of clinical I had ever had. That was the moment I knew someday I would be an ICU nurse. Although it had been a fantastic day, reality was starting to hit really hard. A few more weeks went by, and it was becoming more and more evident that I wasn’t going to pass one of my classes. I’m not just being a negative Nancy; there was a point where I calculated my grades, and I needed a 95 on the final exam just to pass the class. There was no way I could do that; I hadn’t passed an exam yet in that class. And it was only the beginning of November. I had to suffer through an entire month and a half of class knowing that there was no way I could pass. I only told a few people my situation because I wanted to enjoy my last few weeks with them and to take advantage of the time I had left. Many of them asked me why I was even going to class. I could just not go anymore; all that was left was the final exam. What was the point of going to lecture? But I took it as an opportunity to learn as much information as I could and take that knowledge with me.

Clinical was beginning to wrap up, and as I drove to my last day, I felt a mix of emotions. I knew I would never give up trying to get back into nursing school, but I was so sad to be leaving such a wonderful group of students. They were all great people, and I thought I would never find that again. We had all become friends, and it felt like I was leaving part of my family. As I walked into the hospital, I joined my group to wait for our instructor to arrive. I just sat in the group and listened to them. Listened to their concerns about what was going on in the program, which seemed completely opposite of what I was thinking. They were concerned about how this semester would affect the next, and I was just worried about getting into another nursing program.

When our instructor arrived on the unit, I was one of the students that was able to go to a different unit for the day. After two other students were taken to their departments for the day, it was just me and the instructor. I confided in her about my current situation and that I would not be returning the following semester. She looked at me and said, “So it’s your last day… What do you want to do? What do you want to see?” I thought for a second and then said something about liking the heart and cardiology stuff. Then she said, “I know an anesthesiologist that will let you follow her for the day. We’ll see what we can do.” So I put on my scrub cap and “booties” and headed to the OR. The first thing I was able to see was a heart catheterization. Super cool. The doctors were able to take real time X-Rays of the heart as they went. And you could see the heart pumping and moving on the monitor. I just sat in awe. I was looking at this person’s heart in real time. Even the way the doctors moved together and performed the procedure was almost like a dance.

We went on break for lunch, and after scarfing down my food, I was ready to go back on the floor. I wanted to see more, soak up anything I could. When we left the breakroom, the nurse told me we were going toward the bigger OR areas. She said she was looking for someone and for me to simply follow her closely but not to go into a room unless she told me. I said okay, put on my surgical mask and headed through the big double doors. The area beyond the door was a long hallway with doors and small windows all the way down. They were definitely operating rooms, and I wondered what kind of surgeries were going on in there. The nurse kept looking in all of the windows, but would move on after seeing inside. She came to a window about halfway down the hall and looked inside for a while. She then turned to me and said, “Wait right here. Don’t move.” She was back in about 10 seconds and motioned for me to come inside. I walked in with my hands behind my back and stood along the back wall. The nurse was talking to the anesthesiologist who had been standing above all the other doctors. He was literally standing on a step stool looking down on the procedure. He turned and looked at me after speaking to my nurse. Then he stepped down off of the step stool and motioned for me to step up onto it.

Really?

Heck yeah I want to step up there! I want to know what they’re doing!

So I stepped up onto the stool and what I saw below me was incredible. The patient was open on the table. Their chest was cut open. And right in the center of it all was their heart, beating inside their chest.

What. A. Miracle.

I couldn’t believe it. I was looking at someone’s heart. Beating. Even though their chest was wide open. I could see their rib cage, lungs, stomach, everything. But the heart! The heart beats independently of everything else in the body. This person was completely cut open, and their heart could still beat. I remember the anesthesiologist pointing things out to me, but I was in unbelievable shock that I didn’t take in anything he said. I was probably standing there for only 30 seconds, but it felt like so much longer. Time stopped in that room. Before I knew it, the nurse tapped me on my back, and I knew it was time to go. I told the anesthesiologist thank you half a dozen times, and we left.

That moment in clinical was one of the greatest. It was my last day of clinical for who knew how long and possible my last day forever, and I would remember it as being one of the greatest experiences I had ever been through. I drove home that day feeling sad, but I also had a different perspective on the time I had left. I had a little under a month left before I would be forced to leave the nursing program. I could quit going to class, slack off and just lay around feeling sorry for myself. Which, if I’m honest, sounded like a good idea for someone like me who had been working hard and was just sick and tired of being sick and tired. But I knew I couldn’t do that. I would regret not giving it my all until the very end, even though my end was very near. During finals week, I had a moment of weakness and thought about not going to any of my finals. How embarrassing would it be to show up when my professors and some of the students knew it was pointless? They would hand me my final exam almost like a plane ticket for a plane that’s already departed. One of my professors actually cried when I told her my situation. Her class was the only one of the semester that I was actually doing well in. It was an ethics class, so at least I could say I was ethical. But as for the other classes, I couldn’t say the same. I truly didn’t know the material that I was expected to know, and how could I move on in the program if I didn’t have a firm grasp on the concepts. So I walked into my final exams, sat next to all of my friends, accepted the sympathetic smiles that came from each of them, and began my exams. When I had finished, I walked out of the nursing building and looked up at it for the last time. I had made many memories in that building, but it wasn’t where I was meant to obtain my degree. I didn’t know if I would ever get another opportunity to go back to nursing school, but I knew this wasn’t the path I was meant to go down. I did all that I could to make it into this wonderful nursing program, but quite frankly, I wasn’t ready for it. Maybe one day I would be ready for another program.

The next few days that followed were difficult for me. I had to meet with all of my professors and sign a bunch of papers that basically said my position in the program was being terminated, and that I could not come back or reapply to the program. Most of the professors were very kind and offered a lot of encouragement about getting back out there and trying to get into another nursing program. At that point, I was so discouraged about failing out of a program that I couldn’t imagine trying again so soon. I wanted to be a nurse more than anything I had ever wanted, but right now it was hard to imagine having to start all over again. But then came my last meeting with the course coordinator of the class I had failed. I met her in her office, and as I entered the room, she motioned for me to have a seat. Without skipping a beat, she took off her glasses, leaned toward me over her desk, and with the most serious and matter-of-fact voice, she said to me, “So I guess nursing is not the profession for you, is it?”

……..

……..

Are you kidding me?

I was at a loss for words.

Did she actually just say that? Like really just say that?

Well at that point I really had nothing to lose, so I just said, “No, I’m just at the wrong school.” Still in shock, I kind of just sat there and stared at her for the reminder of the conversation. A million thoughts were racing through my brain: Well maybe she’s right. Maybe this is a sign. You know you’re always looking for signs. But maybe this is just not the right place for me. Maybe I’m meant to be somewhere else. Or maybe I’m meant to be a PCT the rest of my life. I mean I am good at that. And it’s as close to being a nurse as you can get without a degree. But then I stopped thinking about all that and had a different thought. Maybe I can do this, but because this program is just too hard for me, God wants me to go somewhere else where I can actually learn and retain all of this knowledge. Maybe there’s another school out there that’s better for me. So I made a promise to myself right then and there, with my professor still rambling in front of me, that I wouldn’t stop until I had my Bachelor Degree. No matter how long it took or how many schools I had to transfer to. At some point, my professor stopped talking, so I shook her hand and said thank you, and then walked out the door. And although it was very hard leaving campus that day, I had a new mindset and wouldn’t stop until I had accomplished what I set out to do when I was 18 years old. I WOULD be a nurse someday. I didn’t know where my life would take me when I left campus in December 2014, and believe me, I was scared to death. But I knew God had a plan for me, and I just had to trust that He was in control.

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Fall 2014 Part 1

Fall semester started off with no warning, and we hit the ground running the first day in our classes. But I guess that’s just nursing school; you don’t get a “syllabus day” in this program. No one but my closest friend “K” knew that I went to summer school to retake a class. So one morning, during our pharmacology class, the professor says, “Why don’t we all go around the room and tell each other what we did over summer break.” I seriously thought of this meme immediately….

Like really?

How old are we?

Then I got worried… I can’t announce to the whole class that I spent my summer right here in this building retaking a class, and that I was walking on thin ice. “K” told me just to lie. So when it was my turn, I basically made two weeks of vacation plans stretch over an entire summer. It was only half of a lie.

So about that “hit the ground running” thing. Holy moly they weren’t kidding. It was like a crash course in everything we had already learned the last semester. If you couldn’t remember something, then too bad. They were moving on. This semester we would have check-offs again, and I was going to make dang sure that I passed first round. I was not going through remediation again; quite frankly, I didn’t have time. I felt like I was already behind before the semester had really gotten started. I don’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but we only had three weeks from the time school started to the first check-off date. Which meant a) we didn’t learn many new skills and b) we had little time to practice.

When my day came, I was going over every skill in my head, that way I knew them backwards and forwards and could perform them in less than 7 minutes. I was not going to let a clock intimidate me and get me flustered. One of my friends came out of the testing lab and told all of us that a particular instructor was in there. This instructor was M.E.A.N. I’m not kidding; she would fail students left and right for the silliest things. I looked at “K” and said, “Watch me get her.”

…. I seriously need to stop saying that.

As soon as I walk into the testing lab, I was handed a card that was blank except for a colored dot in the center. When I made it to the front of the line to check in, the instructor said, “You have a green card, so you will be at the green station with Mrs. B.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Out of six instructors in the room, I was assigned to her. Well there goes my chance of passing first time.

I approached my station, introduced myself and took a deep breath. She wasn’t very talkative, but maybe that was a part of her demeanor. I selected my skill at random, but I ended up choosing something fairly easy. When she started the clock, I went to work. I was in the zone! I was gathering my supplies and was able to start quickly after that. I had plenty of time. I made sure I didn’t everything perfectly. I was so proud of myself. Then out of nowhere, I hear the student keeping time call out the one minute mark…

….. Crap.

How did this happen AGAIN?! Like seriously? Seriously.

I tried to speed up, but something told me I was just going to get myself in trouble if I went too fast. But I had to finish the skill or it was an automatic fail. Nevermind the fact that I just successfully completed a skill with no mistakes; if you don’t complete the skill in its entirety in 7 minutes, you’re done. So I kept going, and as soon as I went to complete the final step, they called time.

I froze.

It happened again.

I failed my check-offs again. And I failed in front of this woman.

I let what was in my hand fall onto the bed, where the manikin was giving me the stank eye. But then Mrs. B said something that took me by surprise…. “What were you going to do next,” she asked. I told her the final step and then I explained how I would double check to ensure the skill was performed correctly by ensuring certain safety precautions. Then she scribbled something on her clipboard and said, “You may go.”

Three words to dismiss my hopes and dreams of ever doing something right in this program. Hot tears sprang into my eyes as I made my way to the door with the other students. I told myself I couldn’t cry here. Not when I was about to walk down the longest hall in the history of halls, where every single one of my classmates was waiting their turn. I tried to hold back the tears, but I was just so dang frustrated with myself that I couldn’t help it. As I opened the lab door, I saw every single one of their faces look up at me... Followed by the judgmental stares when they realized I was crying. Who cries in college? Aren’t we “too adult” for that? I remember grabbing my book-bag without stopping to talk to anyone and walking straight home to my apartment.

A few hours later, after I had stopped crying and just accepted the fact that I would have to redo my check-offs, I got a notification that my grade had been posted. I really didn’t need to look at it; I knew what it would say. “FAILED” in big bold capital letters so there’s no room to misinterpret what they meant. But when I read my grade, it didn’t say fail… It said “PASS”.

….........

But I didn’t complete the skill in 7 minutes.

This can’t be right.

I’m signed into someone else’s account.

Nope! I really passed. All on my own, and not even in the time limit. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe it! Had I actually gotten the hang of this program? Had I finally figured out how to be successful? I was so excited to not have to go to remediation. I could walk straight into clinical with confidence. Although, now that I had check-offs behind me, I turned my attention to my clinical site. It was in Atlanta, and I did NOT like driving that far. I had never been on I-285 before, and now I would be going there every Friday. But I kept thinking that maybe God had a reason for sending me there, with this particular instructor, in this particular semester. Maybe this would be a great opportunity for me.

*SPOILER ALERT….. It was*

[withinmyquietthoughts]

“ Always end the day with a positive thoughts. No matter how hard things were, tomorrow is a fresh opportunity to make it better. ”

https://twitter.com/goodquoteco

(via

words-of-emotion

)

Click here for more quotes

(via words-of-emotion)

[withinmyquietthoughts]

My prayer right now 💕God is in control. He won’t be surprised on the outcome of any election. Regardless of what happens, God’s kingdom will still come. If you have an anxious heart, find peace in that.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

[withinmyquietthoughts]

#calligraphyph #calligraphy #moderncalligraphy #moderncalligraphyph #brushlettering #brushletteringph #calligrabasics #lettering #letteringph #handlettering #handletteringph

[withinmyquietthoughts]

by AprylMade on Etsy

[withinmyquietthoughts]

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Spring 2014 Part 2

The next week, which we had fondly named “Hell Week”, was absolutely the most stressful week I have ever encountered. With a test on Monday, two tests on Tuesday and lab check-offs on Wednesday, I was ready for a shot of something strong (And I’m referring to alcohol, not shots of medication. Little bit of nurse humor). I won’t bore you with a play by play of every nervous breakdown I had, but I did make it out somewhat alive. Two out of the three exams went well; unfortunately, my pathophysiology class was heading down a path with no positive outcome in sight. It was looking like it was practically impossible for me to pass the class. I seriously wanted to punch a wall. WHY?! Why were science classes so darn difficult for me to pass at this university? Is there a reason everything has to be 10x more complicated here? Whatever. I did have the option of retaking it in the summer, but that meant I had to use my “get out of jail free card”. You can only fail one nursing class throughout the entire program. If you fail two, you’re out. No questions asked.

Also, to make things worse, I did not pass my skills check-off. Surprise surprise. I failed something else. What else is new around here? I felt really confident going into the check-off, but of course I picked a very complicated skill to perform, and I couldn’t complete it in 7 minutes. Okay, sue me. I’m slow but at least I can perform the skill correctly. Anyways, I was told to go to remediation, talk about how I could be successful next time, and I was scheduled to redo my check-off two weeks later. I practiced all the time and was finally able to get my time under 7 minutes for all skills. I bonded with the other students who didn’t pass the first round of check-offs, because there’s nothing like bonding over your failures. But in all seriousness, we helped each other out, and I’m forever grateful to all the students who stayed late and brought extra supplies just so I could pass. You guys rock. I ended up passing the second round of check-offs with no trouble and was finally able to start clinical.

For starters, clinical rotation is awesome. It doesn’t matter where I have been for clinical, I have always enjoyed it. For this semester, I was at a local hospital, and my clinical instructor was one of my professors. I really liked her and hoped this would be a positive experience for me…. Wrong.

Don’t get me wrong… This clinical was a wonderful experience for me overall, and I’m not trying to be a Debbie Downer all the time. In the beginning, it was great. I was the only one in my group who had any hospital experience, so I was already a step ahead of all of them (plus it earned me brownie points with my instructor. Winning). I felt so confident walking into patient’s rooms and doing my assessment, which wasn’t very in depth but it made me feel more like a nurse. That was the fun and positive side of clinical. The other side, which most nursing students would agree, is not fun at all. Two words: care plan. The bane of my existence. So while at clinical, everyone is supposed to gather information about their patient and put it together in this format called a care plan. Sounds easy enough right? Well apparently not for me. I got my first care plan back with MANY corrections. I was confused as to why my instructor wasn’t pleased with what I did. I followed the guidelines, but I still did poorly. I thought okay, next time I will do better. No big deal. So for my next care plan, I tried and tried to understand what I was supposed to be doing, and it was just not clicking. After class, with my unfinished care plan in hand, I walked up to my professor’s office to talk about why I was having so much difficulty completing a care plan. After the awkward greetings, I sat down and told her why I was there. I knew the care plan was due that day, but mine was nowhere near done. She took my care plan and began to read it. By the time she got to the last page, her jaw was on the floor. I braced myself for what she was going to say, and then she said, “What’s really going on here?”

… Excuse me?

What’s really going on here?

Nothing. I’m just confused.

I didn’t know it was a crime to be confused.

She got up and shut her office door like she was preparing for a long meeting with me. Maybe she was embarrassed that I was even having these kinds of issues right now. Or maybe she was embarrassed that one of her students wasn’t as perfect as she wanted them to be. Sorry lady, I’m a first semester student. I’m not perfect, and I certainly don’t claim to know everything. When it finally got through to her that I was a good student, and it was just a case of misunderstanding information, she finally explained the purpose of a care plan and what the goal of the care plan should be.

That’s it?

That’s all there is to it?

Now I feel really dumb.

So now that I knew what was expected of me, I was set for the rest of clinical. My last care plan was great, and my instructor complemented me on my improvement. The rest of the semester went smoothly, and I got through all of my classes with B’s. Except for pathophysiology. That didn’t work out. I was scheduled to retake the course in the summer, and thankfully one of my friends was retaking it too. I wasn’t alone! I certainly don’t enjoy other people’s failures, but it’s nice to have people in your corner when you’re not doing so well. Prince Charming was also doing well in the academy. He was enjoying shooting guns and driving fast cars all day. Shortly before my summer semester started, he graduated from the academy and began orientation as a patrol officer. That was probably where most of his troubles started. I don’t know the whole story, but I know when he would come over to my apartment, he would be super stressed out. He was kind of like me; he didn’t understand why things weren’t clicking with him. He did great at the academy, but putting those things into practice was easier said than done.

One day, I was walking back from my class, and I was on the phone with my mom. I had just come around the corner and could see the parking lot in front of my apartment. I saw a car that looked similar to Prince Charming’s car, but I thought no that’s not him. A lot of people have that car. Then a tall, dark haired guy got out of the driver’s side and turned to face me.

It was him.

And he was supposed to be at work. Not my apartment.

I knew immediately something bad had happened, so I told my mom I had to go. Sure enough, my fears were confirmed: he had been let go from the police force. My heart sank into my stomach when he told me. It broke my heart to hear him talk about going through the meeting where he had to hand over his badge and weapons. He had worked so hard for this, and in one afternoon, it was over. Once again, we were in similar situations. My career wasn’t over by any means, but it was certainly at risk. I was walking on a thin line, and one wrong step could send me packing. Now Prince Charming was having to re-think and re-evaluate everything. He went to college, got a four year degree, but now he couldn’t get the job he went to college for. So we were both left sitting there wondering why God would even give us these wonderful opportunities if it was all going to end up being taken away from us. I was starting to wonder this often, but I also tried not to question it too much. I wasn’t out yet; I still had a chance. And I was going to do everything I could to make it happen.

At the end of summer, I had one semester of nursing school under my belt and a passing grade for pathophysiology. Second semester would be a difficult one, and it didn’t help that I was on high alert due to my academic history. But I was confident if I worked hard, I could accomplish anything.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

Spring 2014 Part 1

This was it. I had finally obtained something that I had been reaching, grasping, longing for every day since I graduated high school. I was finally starting nursing school. I had worked so hard for this moment, and as I eagerly read through all of my course syllabi and calendars, all kinds of emotions ran through me. Excitement. Nervousness. Self-Confidence. All of these feelings poured over me like a monsoon. I couldn’t contain my excitement the next morning as I walked to my first nursing class of the semester. It may have been 7:00 in the morning, but by gosh, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to greet the day. As I walked into the nursing building, a new feeling crept over me: a sense of change. I had walked into this building every semester multiple times a week since I had arrived to college. But today, in the early hours of that Monday morning, walking through those doors meant something different. I was walking into that building as someone new. Someone I had longed to become when I was a young freshman idolizing over the older students in white scrubs. So with my head held high, I walked into my first class of the semester.

As the weeks passed by, I settled into my routine and found some friends in the program. One of them, I’ll call her “K”, became my partner in crime. We were together all the time, partly because we had to for studying purposes and partly because we liked doing the same things. We also became very close because one of our nursing classes required us to do a full physical assessment on each other (and I do mean a FULL assessment). There were no secrets among us once we spent an entire class asking each other personal questions about our health and medical issues. Before we could start our clinical rotations in the hospital, we had to pass a set of check-offs. This was where we would walk into a room that’s set up like a hospital room, and one of our many instructors were assigned to you. You must perform a random skill, such as medication administration, wound care and other nursing responsibilities. Let me stress to you how hard that was for me. We had many, many skills to learn, and not only did you have to perform them correctly, you only had 7 minutes to do the skill. Yes my friends… 7 minutes. Who in the world can do anything like that in 7 minutes? I can’t even get out of bed 7 minutes after my alarm goes off… But I digress.

So “K” and I spent practically all of our free time in the practice lab trying to wrap our brains around how to perform these skills and how to remember all the steps that it took to complete them. Not only were we trying to practice our skills, we were trying to study for the three exams we had the following week along with our scheduled check-offs. It was by far the hardest week either of us had ever been through. We were mentally exhausted, and we were staying in the nursing lab until the building closed every night. One night, we were in the lab late like we had been every night for the past two weeks. We were talking about our grades so far in each class, and I was really worried about the upcoming week. I needed to do well on these exams because my grades were not good. In nursing school, you have to maintain a 75 test average in order to receive other grades for that class, such as participation grades and care plan evaluations. I needed a good grade on the three exams coming up or else I would be at risk for not passing. At one point while in the lab, I was just so frustrated with everything that I was ready to give up on everything. Why couldn’t I conquer these skills? Why was I struggling to pass? Why would God have given me this opportunity for me to fail? Why, why, why? “K” could tell I was at a breaking point, so she took out her laptop and said, “Let’s dance.”

…. What?

I must have had an awful look on my face because she got up, told me to put everything down and come over to an open area in the lab. She turned on Pandora, or the radio, probably 105.7, and we started dancing. It took me a minute, but I finally let loose and just danced like a fool. And in that moment, I wasn’t worried about grades, or how well I could irrigate a wound, or how long it took me to perform any of the complicated skills that I had been practicing for weeks. In that moment, I felt free. I was in another world; a world of just my happy thoughts and music. “K” and I were dancing around that lab, looking like absolute idiots, but we didn’t care. We were tired and delirious and just needed to dance it all out.

While I was going through my first semester of nursing school, my boyfriend, Prince Charming, was going through a new schooling of his own. He had applied for many city and county police officer positions, and one day, he finally got a call offering him a position in the city he grew up in. We were both so happy! It meant he would stay local, have the job he wanted so badly and we would get to see each other most days. I couldn’t have been more proud of him for accomplishing something he had worked so hard for. I knew the police academy would be tough on him, but I knew he was strong enough to handle it.

I couldn’t believe it. Could it actually be that all of our dreams were coming true? And at the same time? While I lived out my dream of going to school to be a nurse, he was living out his dream of going to the academy to be a police officer. Some days we would just sit in my apartment and tell stories about the things we did that day. His stories were typically better than mine because he was actually out doing stuff, and I was sitting in a class room. But most days, we would just sit in awe and amazement at what God had blessed us with. Usually, things didn’t come that easily for either of us. We usually felt like it was us against the world, and the world was winning. But now, we were both getting what we wanted, and from the looks of things, it looked pretty stable. All that was left to do was sit back and enjoy the ride.

[withinmyquietthoughts]

You can’t expect miracles to happen overnight. Be patient, be loving and little by little the change you seek will come.

(via words-of-emotion)

  (via

words-of-emotion

)

[withinmyquietthoughts]

nothing occurs without purpose. pay attention to the message in every encounter, every trial, every victory.

Unknown (via kushandwizdom)

[withinmyquietthoughts]

The Difference A Year Makes

For anyone to fully understand where I am in my life today, I have to take you back to last January. I was a sophomore in college, and I was just beginning my fifth semester of college. It should have been a fairly easy semester because I was only taking 9 credit hours. Among those 9 hours sat a 4 credit hour anatomy and physiology class. But it was my second A&P class, so I thought it wouldn’t be that big of deal, granted I had made a C in the first class (my first C EVER mind you). And I was taking it with my roommate and best friend, who I will call “T”. I had this.

A few weeks later, I was barely getting by. I was failing the two classes I was taking and had no idea why school was so hard all of a sudden. I thought I could still beat it, but another failing grade later, and I decided to drop both classes. Great now what? “T” and I were supposed to apply to the nursing program at the end of this semester. So I went to speak to one of the advisors for the nursing program. I explained to her that I planned on retaking A&P two this summer at a college in my hometown to stay on track. Then, she hit me with something I wasn’t really expecting. She informed me that it was highly unlikely that I would get into the program with my current grades (Okay lady, just tell me I’m not good enough. It will be easier on both of us). I didn’t see anything wrong with my 3.50 GPA with all A’s and B’s (except that one C but who’s counting). Unfortunately, that one C was the problem child. It was a C in a science class, and that just wasn’t good enough. So I looked at her and said, “Well I’ll take A&P one in June and A&P two in July.” She thought I was crazy and thought I was taking on way too much. Honestly, this lady didn’t know what I was capable of. She was giving me my ticket into this nursing program, and all I had to do was take these two classes.

Easy enough right? Wrong

I won’t go into detail, but that was one of the hardest summers of my life. I came out with an A in A&P one and a B in A&P two. It was exactly what I needed to have a chance at getting into this nursing program that I so badly wanted to be in. I had also started dating someone right before summer school started. I’ll call him Prince Charming. He was so patient in dealing with me while I fretted over test grades and final exams. I’m forever grateful for his encouragement during those very long 8 weeks of school. I’ll talk about him more in my next blog post.

When I returned to school in the fall, not much was different. “T” and I were still roommates, and my other roommate and best friend, I’ll call her “C”, began taking classes with us. All three of us had applied to the nursing program, and we were anxiously awaiting for letters to be sent out. These letters either invited you for an interview or politely rejected you. “C” had been rejected three times, but “T” and I had never applied before. Then the first letter came. It was for “C” and she received another rejection. She wasn’t that upset, but it was still sad for all of us. Then “T” got her letter… Rejected. She cried for days. There was no consoling her. Still no letter for me though. It had been a whole week since the first letter went out, and I still had nothing. So with Prince Charming at my side, I made the dreaded phone call to the nursing department. I swear that phone rang 20 times before someone answered. Then I had to be transferred to someone who could pull my records. When I finally got to someone, she informed me my letter had been sent to my home address, and that’s why it was taking so long. I wanted so badly to ask if I had gotten in, but I hesitated. Then she said, “But you know what the letter will say, don’t you?” I said not really, and she said, “Honey, you got an interview.” I have never been so happy in my entire life. I started crying with happiness, and I thanked the lady half a dozen times… I don’t know why. It just felt right. Then I hugged and kissed Prince Charming, and we went inside to have a glass of wine to celebrate.

The rest of the semester went by fairly quickly. I went to my interview with the nursing program, and it went as smoothly as I had hoped. My year and a half of working in a hospital saved me in that interview. I would have been lost for words if I didn’t have that experience under my belt. In a little over a month, I got another letter… It was congratulating me on my acceptance into the BSN program. I was beyond thrilled, but there was one problem. I was currently making a D in the only class that separated me from the nursing program. And there it was again. A science class getting in the way of my dream. I would like to say I was confident and courageous for the remaining two months of the semester. But I wasn’t. I was just the opposite. After the two months were over, and final exams rolled around, I had no mental strength left in me. I prayed so much and asked God for all the strength He could give me because I had nothing left to give. I took my last final, which was science, and ran out the door. For the next 24 hours, I stalked my grade report. Waiting for that letter grade to appear. I was driving down the road when I got a text from “T”. All she said was, “Grades are posted.” The three words I had learned to dread. Of course I wasn’t home yet, so I had to wait yet another 20 minutes before I could actually check the grade (Yes I realize I could have checked it on my phone, but I was operating a motor vehicle. I didn’t know if I would be in the right state of mind to make it home after finding out the grade.) Once I made it home, I made a mad dash to the computer. And there it was. The grade report. I scrolled down…. And I have to say I’ve never been so happy to make a C in my life. I screamed with excitement and fell to the floor. I couldn’t believe it. I actually did it. I made it into the nursing program FOR REAL. Not just a pending acceptance. An actual real spot in the program. There was nothing left to do but enjoy my Christmas break and wonder what waited for me when I returned to school.