Hospital Holiday

Happy New Year from the farm in Portland! I've been down here for the last week after spending my first week of holiday up in Tacoma with friends. I wised up during this trip home and did more entertaining at "my place" rather than running around town having drinks, coffees, lunches, dinners and happy hours with friends -- and thus wearing myself out. "My place" is actually my girlfriend's house and it was fun being able to cook big meals, have people over and veg in front of the fire to watch White Christmas. So happy I was able to go back to my old company and join them for their Christmas party and catch so many of the friends I have there for a quick visit.

I thought I was getting a break from hospitals for a couple of weeks, and then my 94-year old grandpa got sick and we spent Christmas Eve in the ER with him. It was actually quite heart-rending as he decided against having surgery to correct a twisted bowel, instead choosing to let "nature take it's course," meaning he would die in several days. He was moved to the ICU and I watched the doctor respectfully plan his care around grandpa's wishes, however much he believed he could "fix him." We were all so stunned by the turn of events, as we thought he'd just go in for some kind of enema (constipation being his chief complaint) -- and instead being faced with the big end-of-life decision that night. I was still wrapping presents at one in the morning on Christmas Eve...the baking we planned to do that day having been abandoned. Instead we looked around this 80-acre spread, and the spacious home where we always gather and realized it would be our last holiday here. We were all so sad.

Christmas morning we gathered and listened as dad got a surprising call from the ICU...grandpa had changed his mind and decided to FIGHT! Present-opening was postponed as mom and dad went to see him through surgery. Our moods immediately lifted and Christmas became a happier day for us.

Coming home this trip I have learned SO much. In no particular order:

• Once a nurse, always a nurse. It was my sister (the RN) who determined my grandpa needed to get to the hospital to be seen. She began texting me the night before as she joked, "ever given an enema?" Knowing she was being asked to administer one to grandpa...and that she was hoping I'd step up and grab this "training opportunity" -- I texted back something to the effect of; "Nope...and I know where you're going with this...I'd NEVER perform a procedure for which I hadn't been properly trained!"  :D  Still, the exchange was foreshadowing what came next.
• Pay attention to S&S: Signs & Symptoms. By the morning of Christmas Eve I awoke to 4 text messages from my sister describing what she saw with grandpa: huge distended belly. Hard upon palpation. Hypoactive (nearly absent) bowel sounds. Complaints of "discomfort," (grandpa has never even spoken the word "pain.") BP 30 points higher than baseline. Crackles in lungs. Labored breathing. Edema bilaterally in lower limbs. Reading all of that I remember thinking to myself...this is bad. My sister and I were both thinking it was something cardiovascular. The ER admitting nurse thought it was too.
• Respect the patient. Especially the elderly. And when it's family. Hearing grandpa say he wanted to die rather than come home with a colostomy bag...that he wasn't enjoying life anymore...that he was ready to die—this was hard to hear, but my first reaction was; this is his choice. I love him and I'm going to support how he chooses to exit this world, even though it hurts and shakes the foundations of my life. We were all relieved when he made a different decision the next day, but I would have been willing to see it through either way. However, yesterday my sister came back from seeing him in the hospital and she was miffed. The nurse's aid, several times within grandpa's hearing, called my grandpa "cute." This man is a WW2 Army Air Corps Lt. Colonel and flew with President Eisenhower. He is a hunter and a fisherman. He is a world traveler, taking trips to every exotic corner of the globe well into his 90's. A life-long farmer, he has taken legal cases on behalf of farmer's rights all the way to the Supreme Court! He. Is. NOT. Cute! Healthcare workers would do well to respect the person in the bed, as old and as sick as they may be.

We are still waiting to see how Grandpa will do recovering from surgery. It will likely be a long haul, and already he is tired of being in the hospital. We are all encouraged that he has begun reading the paper again and is planning to watch the Rose Bowl soon. These are good signs.

Myself? I'll be heading back to Pittsburgh and nursing school. I have 4 more weeks of crazy tests and competencies left in Term 2 and then there'll be a week off before starting Term 3. This next term marks the end of my "honeymoon phase" at school--in which my schedule was much less busy than the other students, since I had brought many transfer credits in and didn't need to take the full load of courses. That all changes as I catch up with my cohort for spring term. I'll be in class or the hospital five days a week, from 7:30 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. 

I'll try not to whine much, but expect to see some of that in future posts.

Rounding Week 4! Post-Thanksgiving Crash

While I'm downloading training videos on medication administration, I'll post an update. This week we don't spend time in the hospital, instead we'll be doing intensive training on how to "pass meds." This is very exciting because it means we can be more helpful when we get back on the floor. And as I mentioned in my previous post, this skill carries with it daunting responsibility. Still, now that we are spending full shifts in the hospital, I like to stay busy and am excited to be expanding my skill set.

The patients I have had this term have been very sick elderly folks. And as it was approaching the holidays, my wise clinical instructor pointed out that this is the time the nursing homes like to send as many patients as possible over to the hospitals, since they'll be short staffed! So anything condition that may qualify gets them a ride over to see us. I wondered if he was just being cynical, but he spent twenty years in an ER and has seen this trend unfold many times. Plus, he confirmed it with some nurse's aids over in the homes. So, yes -- I had my hands full changing "adult briefs." (I hate having to spray them with the chilly disinfectant spray...Gasp!)

Man was I ever blue when the Thanksgiving break rolled around.

I elected not to go home, since I was just there several weeks ago. I hate crowds and the crush of humanity. I also hate spending money on expensive peak airfare. This meant I found myself with nearly a week to kill in The Burgh, mostly on my own. I made a list of things I wanted to do that school keeps me too busy for; poking around new neighborhoods, browsing the shops, seeing downtown, long walks, hand crafts, trashy novels. Then I worked through the list. It kept me busy and distracted from the sadness of being away from family on the holiday. Luckily, a few of us stragglers gathered at my girlfriend's house where we cooked our own rather marvelous spread and killed a couple of bottles of wine. (Yes, I did inject the bird with melted butter with an intramuscular syringe!) We are all here in town getting our next degree and, for whatever reason, weren't going anywhere. It's nice to meet new friends.

Apple sure has made the world smaller. Finally my mom and sister joined my iPhone cult and we were able to FaceTime on Thanksgiving. Attending school far away today is so much easier than in 1988. Back then I called long distance. Every day. Until the parents saw the phone bill. Plus, I wrote actual letters home. I feel like a dinosaur. In any case...video chatting is just one more thing I'm thankful for this holiday season while away from home.

I ended my break by splurging on a swanky, historic hotel downtown. The Omni William Penn. Lemme tell 'ya...go there. I was in heaven. I browsed Sack's 5th Avenue, Macy's and Brooks Brothers. Friends met me at the hotel for drinks, and we emptied more wine bottles. I got to reunite with my heels and dressy-dresses. I felt like a grown up in my big, king bed and attempted to sleep on every square inch (just to get my money's worth.) I love being too warm and slithering over to find another cold spot on 600 thread count sheets. It beats swiveling around in a tiny twin at the dorm any day. It was a glorious ending to a restful break.

I probably should have cracked the books, but I just couldn't make myself.

Now we have a couple of exams and clinical competencies to grind through in the next few weeks before it's time to head home for Christmas.

Whoopsie. Looks like those videos are finished downloading. Time to go learn how to stick people!

Shock of Re-Entry: Week 1 of Second Term

I think I'll blog...

Oh wait! I already HAVE! My poor, under-nourished blog. It may be some time before it forgives me for this lapse in attention. My 14 followers (except for mom) have likely forgotten me.

I should probably start with a recap of the end of First Term. Near the end we started having big exams every Friday, and busy clinicals. I'll blame those two things for my disappearing act. I have to say...however, that those final weeks were exciting!

Clinicals. I love being on the floor. Love it. It beats staying awake and alert for 6-hour lectures any day. Even with only one patient assigned to care for, you're really moving. After over ten years of being at a desk or a conference table, I like being on my feet and being active. Then there's the little thrill of adrenalin from...well, fear. Even seemingly innocent requests from a patient can lure a student nurse into potentially perilous territory. "Could you help me to the bathroom?" "Could you get me some water?" Hahahahaha! NO! 

Not until I check your chart. Maybe your doctor ordered you not to get out of bed. (OOB) Maybe you're having surgery in a couple of hours and some anesthesiologist, surgeon, head nurse or instructor (in no particular order) will come kick me in the teeth if I give you that water.

I tell you, a little fear sure let's you know you're alive.

Facing fears is something I really thrive on. For instance, on my second day of clinicals (ever) I had 3 things happen to me which I was fearing. Fear of: private parts, being thrown up on, and being in an emergency situation and not knowing what to do. My sweet little old lady patient allowed me to experience all of those things in one encounter and I learned so much. Turns out, I (like many) build up fears to be bigger than they really are (in this case, private parts and vomit.) Those turned out to be not such a big deal. They just happened, I dealt with it, and moved on. From the emergency situation, I think I identified what the root fear was -- namely, would I be able to hold it together and be useful?

I did, and I was.

I was also shaking from adrenalin, had a trickle of sweat down my polyester uniform back, and couldn't sleep all night -- but still. I didn't lose it. That was a great test.

The ultimate lesson from my first quarter of nursing school was: I got to answer the question "do I belong in nursing school?" And the answer, thank God, turned out to be yes. This seems like a simple thing, but after all of the soul searching I did prior to leaving my career as a designer, all of the financial hardship I am enduring, the distance from loved ones -- all hinged on the theoretical answer to that question. But it couldn't be fully answered until I actually got on the floor and got to work. It was very much a leap-of-faith situation and I am so very happy to now have the reassurance. I feel cut out to do this job and be able to offer something. My grades and feedback from my clinical instructor in the end reflected this.

Phew!

Then we had a week off for break in which I flew home.

It is so strange to return to my home TOWN, but not be able to return to my HOME. The cabin is rented for this 2 year adventure, so I stayed with family and friends, however my son and I both miss the beach so much.

Where at home I listened to the waves, and the seagulls, the occasional bark of a sea lion, and the fish jumping -- now I hear new things. Waves become the hissing and knocking of my radiator or the hum of the A/C. The cries of seagulls are the chatterings of young girls in the hall. Add to that the city noises of life flights overhead, sirens in the street, and the Pittsburgh drivers impatiently honking, and you'll see why I really AM a fish out of water!

Nevermind the language barrier! Every day I learn a new word of Pittsburghese. The students love to laugh at me when I ask them what some slang term means. This week I learned "Nebby" -- which means, nosy. As in...nurses need to be nebby when taking patient histories. Uh...what?! How do you spell that? I also learned "redding up" -- as in, to tidy up. The pronunciation can also throw me. Many in the Burgh pronounce their "ow" sounds like "ahn." So one wouldn't say downtown. It would be "dahn-tahn." Get it? You get used to it.

I tried to think of any relatable jargon from Seattle...but for the life of me I can't? How boring can we be?

By the time last term ended, I had a pretty predictable routine going here, which helped me settle in. Sundays are spent at the diner, where I sit at the counter and very often will visit with the regulars. I have a long chat over breakfast before settling in to study. Sunday nights I like to visit my friend, her son, and her clawfoot tub. Getting to be alone in a bathroom is a privilege for a dorm-dweller like me. Getting to read something that isn't a text book, in a hot bath, is a little slice of heaven. Either Monday or Wednesday evenings I like to hit a local restaurant for a glass of 1/2 priced wine, and study. Friday nights I have regressed into college behavior and will hit the local pub with the students. I insist on a particular pub, however, since the clientele is a mix of ages, so I'm not surrounded by post-pubescents!

On test weeks I am usually somewhere preparing cheat sheets. I am very proud of the one I did for the cranial nerves which I cartooned and passed out to the entire class. Studying those is HARD! I have begun posting copies on my door to help others study. I'd like to see this entire class at graduation. The odds are against it, but we are pretty proud to say that not one student washed out in 101. This doesn't always happen, so the entire cohort was pretty stoked. (I don't think I can take credit for that from my cartoons alone...but I like to help!)  ;P

I am now back from the week of vacation and it is the end of Week 1 of our second term. A friend asked me how I was doing with the "shock of re-entry" and I had to smile at her insight. For all of the routines I established in order to feel at home here, and all of the bonding that has taken place with my young classmates, I must admit to a little setback on the homesickness front. It was hard to say goodbye to my son again. My family. My friends. I'm in a blue funk this week. However, I know how quickly the first term raced by and the two week Christmas break is only six weeks away.

This too shall pass!

Weeks 5 & 6 - Germ Warfare

It's been a couple of busy weeks with another big exam and clinical competencies to get through. Exams don't bother me too much, by now I know what to do to be successful. I am, however, surprised by my performance during competencies; the tests for our hands-on care skills. These are more like oral exams with the student demonstrating whatever skill is being tested. I didn't expect to stumble on these, but I did - and I have a new-found and healthy respect for them. Because I'm unfamiliar with this testing method, I went into competencies without any anxiety at all, figuring I knew the material and had practiced to the degree I thought necessary to pass.

What I didn't take into account was the things that can go wrong that would cause my anxiety to increase, and my performance to decrease.

Things like the differences between older BP cuffs and my new one and how the valves will vary in terms of sensitivity. Or how taking pulses on different clinical partners can make a real difference when testing. I started on a gal whose pulse was a little tough to find and keep for a full 60 seconds. Missing a beat or two means a fail. Luckily I identified another student whose pulse was slow and strong, steady as a drum. Ultimately I passed all of my competencies, however I see now that it will be important not just to practice, but to almost over-practice. Get the muscle-memory established so when unexpected things arise...I won't be fumbling with the basics.

I do like clinical days the best. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays we have clinicals, meaning we aren't sitting in lecture, but are in the Sim Lab learning hands on care, or we are out at a clinical site actually practicing what we have learned in lecture and lab. Mind you, I don't enjoy the ridiculous uniforms we wear. The whites – also called the Polyester Disaster. Still, these days are like field trips from school and a welcome break from our 5-hr long lectures.

Last week we went out to a daycare center to practice assessments on different age-groups. The children were delightful however, it was like taking a bath in a petri-dish full of germs. I think half of the nursing class came down with a cold and cough the following week. Myself included. It could be that visit or the extreme drop in temperature we have had that did us in. It went from 70's and flip flops to 40's and shearling boots seemingly overnight. I need to to a major re-org of the wardrobe.

October is here and I have this overwhelming urge to stay in my flannel jammies and make soup. I'm delighted to report I found a new (to me) grocery store that has special sections just for various world foods; kosher, British, Indian, Mediterranean. I took home a scone mix from the British section, since scones and tea are a comfort ritual for me. And from the kosher foods I found a huge selection of frozen soups. I can't wait to try the borscht (I realize that's Russian) with a huge dollop of sour cream and watch the rain falling outside my window.

Life is settling into a pattern here which is helping with the loneliness and homesickness a great deal. Friday nights are spent at the local pub. Sundays are spent just down the street at a great 60's-era diner. They don't mind my camping out there for 5 hours studying, and the old broads who wait on me all call me hon, or sweetie. The last couple of Sunday evenings have been spent at a friend's house who also relocated here from Tacoma around the same time. We cook dinner and visit, and then I get a long soak in her magnificent claw-foot tub! Bliss!

I've grown accustomed to dorm living now, and really don't mind it. It's like the Hogwart's of nursing schools, with it's own traditions and legacy. I'm willing to bet this school could be the last in-residence, hospital-run diploma program in the nation. This makes me sad, because it's truly a unique experience living and learning this way. I love that I can finish an assignment at any hour and toddle downstairs to push it under my instructor's office door. I can roll out of bed and be in class in 10 minutes and not give a damn what the weather is doing outside. If it's cold out we can take the tunnel into the hospital. The lab is left open at designated times for extra practice and it's just down the hall. I love looking at the old photos of the first classes of nursing students in the late 1800's who also studied medicine right here. I feel connected to them.

And I've finally met "Flo!" When I arrived there were little post-it notes around, or messages on the white boards, ostensibly from this Flo person. Things like: "Flo says wash your dishes," in the kitchen. Or, "Flo says Welcome Back students!" I just assumed  "Flo" was a fastidious and involved person. Turns out she's a mannequin down on second floor, dressed in one of those 1890 nurse uniforms, named after (of course), Florence Nightingale. Apparently, residents like to kidnap her and put her in unexpected places, like the elevator or in front of someone's door in order to give them a fright. I have no doubt she'll be very active as Halloween approaches.

I'm dreading these last 4 weeks. The exam schedule is getting more rigorous. I have one every Friday until end of term. The material on them is data-heavy and will involve a lot of memorizing. Who doesn't hate memorizing? What I can look forward to is finishing that final exam and then hopping on a plane for 9 days at home with family and friends.

I CAN'T WAIT!

Week Four - A Week of Firsts

Got my first parking ticket here and I feel justified in fighting it based on what the sign said when I parked...but I know I won't. Twenty bucks just ain't worth the hassle of going to parking court. I bet the city knows that and banks on it. Grrr.

Today was the first day I walked outside and started shivering like it must be fall. Could it be?!!! I don't dare to hope. I've been looking forward to cold weather since I hear it means that "Cockroach Season" is officially over.

But the most important first was meeting my Very First Patient!

Yes it was our first clinical week in the hospital, and I will admit I was nervous. This surprises me since not much does. We awoke in the wee hours in the morning and made our way as a class to the hospital cafeteria to breakfast and have a meeting with our clinical instructor. This is the teacher who leads a small group of students throughout the quarter through the clinical (hospital and hands on care) experience. Of all the professors here -- and I really like them all -- I feel lucky to have gotten who I did. She's the best!

So we arrived on our floor in our small group and were oriented. Given a tour. The codes to all the locked rooms. Passwords to the computer system. (Basically the keys to the kingdom.) Then we were assigned our patient and I got a little bubble of nerves when I passed her room for the first time knowing I would shortly have to knock on her door like I belonged there and begin forming the Therapeutic Relationship. I'm amused at how skittish I was to do this -- actually making several "fly-bys" past her door, unable to make myself knock until I finally gathered up the gumption to just do it.

I was only there to complete a partial healthcare assessment on her, so I didn't have to make any physical contact or practice my limited "skills" on her just yet. Once I did go in, thankfully things flowed naturally through the questionnaire. She was kind, warm and amiable. I wonder what she thought of me? I know what I would have thought sitting in that bed:

"She looks like a doctor" -- in my lab coat I felt like a fraud. I really only know basic hand washing, vital signs and how to put someone in restraints...yet here I was like someone from Grey's Anatomy.

"A student?! --Oh brother, just let me sleep." -- the woman had just had surgery the day before and now she was having to sit there and answer questions like: what do you like best about yourself? PUH-LEEZE.

Still -- even if she thought those things, she hid it well. I have to say I feel blessed I didn't get an unhappy and uncooperative patient for my first time at bat. I thoroughly enjoyed my day on the floor, even though I was worried about getting in the way of the hospital staff -- the nurses and doctors who "belonged there." When I brought that up I loved my teacher's response. She said it was her belief that the nursing students had every right to be in that patient's room as the staff did. Makes sense, since that's how new nurses are made, and every professional there started at the bottom like I did yesterday.

It's fun and daunting starting something new. I like it.

Week 3 - The Ups...The Downs

Every other Friday is test day here in nursing school, so of course I started out the week full of the promise of a regimented and rigorous daily study schedule. I always start test weeks out that way. Then I chuck that plan and wing it. Of course I would never advise anyone else to do that. Stick To Your Plan. But me? I guess I don't like boundaries...even self-imposed ones.

This week, however, I was sidelined a little bit because of the dreaded insomnia thing. It hit hard Tuesday night and I actually hit a record of No Sleep Whatsoever that night. That put me into a fog and made studying terribly difficult. Luckily the test went well, I think. Will get grades back soon and then we'll know for sure. I'm taking steps to figure out the sleeplessness in the meantime.

Everyone keeps asking about the dorms. Last week I described the periods of wildness from the denizens here, and it can be wild. Though my room is now a cute little haven, one can't ignore the sounds from the hall unless one wants the fan to be set on "jet engine" in order to drown it out. However, I'm adjusting...and the price is right!  :)

Plus I've confirmed something I've always thought about me; I love living in small spaces. LOVE it. I have been mocked for setting my sites on one day living in an Airstream trailer. Some may consider my 600 square foot cabin small...but I have always thought I'd like to try even smaller. Even just temporarily—a trailer...a boat. And now I am putting it to the test in this 9' x 11' dorm room.

Why? I love the simplicity of it. Perhaps I'm still traumatized by the weeks of sifting through all of my personal belongings down at the beach in order to prep my cabin for the renters and get my things into storage. There were hundreds of items I had forgotten I had, or hadn't touched in many years. Now I have all that I need, organized into this little space. And there is little room for clutter, so I can keep it pruned back. I have always said all I need is a comfy place to sleep, a relaxing place to sit, and some place to cook. I have that here and its really all I want. And my rule when moving in was, nothing comes in unless it is beautiful AND functional. (Preferably multi-functional.) What a good rule. I have one bowl for my oatmeal, a pretty one from Anthropologie. One mug for my tea -- the same one I've used at home for years. One travel mug. One place setting of cutlery. It is really quite freeing.

Down with clutter and excessive, useless STUFF!

The other thing I have learned from this move is this: As much as I have had a wanderlust over the last decade, now I know that the beach will always be home base. I don't think I could go for good. I will take time outs to have adventures, but I will need to return to the place (and the people) that feed my soul. I guess I had to leave to know that.

This is the quote I have posted on my FB page. It fits.

"I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage, with my books, my family, and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give." - Thomas Jefferson

Week 2 Nursing School -- Where the Wild Things Are

After a relatively easy first week of lectures and films studying the various laws, governing bodies, professional standards, health & safety requirements for the nursing field, we begin week 2. I will admit, the amount of outside-class work -- they weren't kidding, it is staggering. It is also a logistical problem if you'd like to decamp the dorm room and go hole up anywhere else to get some work done. This is because the textbooks require a dolly. Entire forests were mown down in order to provide them. And since I dropped a cool grand on these babies, I'm damned sure gonna read them.

Now that I'm comfortably nested in said dorm room, I find I'm not the only one. Those following me on FaceBook this week know I have encountered several bigger-than-a-breadbox cockroaches in my room. Nothing like a major freak out in the hallway to bring us nursing students together. The friendly and responsive Environmental Services guy from the hospital informs me that my pets are American Cockroaches. (Nice that they're domestic. The other ones are...German. Nuff said.) Anyhoo, we grow things bigger in the USA...my insect tormentors are upwards of 2 inches long, and not smart enough to get out of the way of a 4-inch stiletto.

Needless to say...despite my new memory foam mattress, I'm still not sleeping.

And speaking of wild things, we've got the 2-legged variety here in the dorms as well. I have dubbed them the Gaggles of Giggling Girls collective. They jump around being silly due to various stimuli: the onset of Jersey Shore on tv, a sighting of a cute medical resident, and various other indiscernible reasons. I see myself as an obvious outsider, however I am welcomed into the fold as a visitor -- a la Gorillas in the Mist. I'm resisting any true bonding thus far, since I'm not sure my self-esteem can handle being dubbed Dorm Mom. Still, my favorite moment with the kids so far was when I disclosed to one of my classmates in the hall that I had a date that night, while a gaggle was walking by and overheard. Much squealing and hopping around ensued, followed by pleas that I let them help me "get ready." It was quite endearing actually.

It seems my design skills won't need to be entirely forgotten. We are tasked with building a Professional Portfolio in a binder over the next two years, compiling our experiences and credentials that will, one hopes, help us find that crucial first nursing job. Looking at the professor's example had me cringing inwardly. While I'm sure her credentials are lengthy and impressive -- the book itself looks like it could be at home in any high school locker. And since my former job had me overseeing multi-million dollar proposal packages, I say pish tush to this softball assignment.

What I'm really scared of is giving an enema to an incontinent and combative alzheimer's patient.

The book I can handle.

First Week in the Burgh

Hey folks!

I'm finally catching up on the blog. I've had a lot to say, and many nudges from friends and family to update, however my first gripe is the heavily filtered WiFi in my building owing to the fact that I live in a hospital, and they take patient records pretty seriously. So I'm reporting from Alexander's, only a couple blocks away, and purportedly one of the area's finest Italian restaurants. You'll be hearing a lot about how I'm eating my way through Little Italy for a while since it's right out my door. After the drive across the fruited plain, where there was a distinct lack of variety on the menu, I'm happy to be back among culinarily diverse options.

Okay where should I start? How about the drive?

After surgery #2 and an unexpected overnight stay in the hospital for mega-doses of great pain control drugs I landed back on the couch to recover for a couple of days. Luckily the move off the beach was behind me. Ordinarily I surely would have had a terrible time leaving the cabin, knowing I wouldn't see the beach (or my tub) for 22 months. However, pain and exhaustion kept me from really even acknowledging that farewell. On day 2 of my recovery I thought about it and realized if my Plan C (...or was it, D?) was going to work at all, I'd have to pour myself in the car and drive away, in 24 hours. So I did. (Although my dear friend and host was skeptical it could be done, and...full disclosure...so was I.)

My son (and co-pilot) and I spent the following nights in Butte, MT; Wall SD; and finally Madison, WI -- driving later and later into the night to keep on schedule. Encountering the world-renowned motorcycle rally at Sturgis was a logistical nightmare in terms of finding lodging, but we did it. I'll admit I find it a guilty pleasure checking out men on bikes. And there were zillions. It was like a candy shop.  ;)

The road trip went by amazingly fast because we listened to 3.25 books on tape of the Harry Potter series and were drawn in. Now we have the remaining books to listen to on the way back in 22 months.

Pittsburgh. PGH. The Burgh. Welcome to the Big City.

After a couple of wrong turns, we arrived in Pitt at 2:30 a.m. on Thursday. Our welcoming party was Chubby Nudie. He was a hairy, bald obese man in his underwear going to his car to retrieve something on Liberty Avenue. We saw WAY too much of his south end. Because we were punchy...this sent us into hysterics.

Then when we pulled up to my building, we heard a loud crash and a drunk girl on her bicycle had fallen in the middle of the street. Giggling. David and I shared a glance and tried hard not to crack each other up. She was fine. Drunk people bounce. And her chain was off so she had to walk the rest of the way. Lord knows we weren't going to aid and abet by helping her reconnect it and there was NO WAY she had the dexterity to do it. She ambled away. So that's Drunk Cyclist Chick.


[Commercial break: the cheese and wild mushroom ravioli in marsala sauce just arrived and I am over the moon! And since on Monday and Wednesdays it's 1/2 price wine here at Alexander's...it's my new favorite place. I sought it out on the advice of a good friend who said I needed to establish routines...I pick this one.]

I checked into my room on the nurse's floor and my boy stayed on the med-student's floor, which is all guys. And now I will commence my list of gripes, just to get that out of the way:

• Living with A/C in a hot and humid place is new to me. I'm either way too hot, or freezing. I haven't found the right setting. And though it's hot enough out to frizz my hair and make me wonder why I showered, I still need to bring a sweater because as soon as I go indoors it is sure to be overly air-conditioned and I'll probably catch a cold.
• No tub. Those of you who know me and my 2 bath a day habit, know that this is a demoralizing thing for me. When will I ever get my reading done? What about my glass of white in the tub? Snoozing? Shaving my legs without balancing dangerously on one foot?!! How do you shower people do it?!! I hate this most of all. I may live in the tub on breaks. Some are suggesting I make friends with the people who live in the suites on my floor. These are seniors in the private apartments. With their private bathtubs, damn them. But I've never been a user, so that's out. (Except for Heather. She has always had a pretty good tub.)
• Did I mention the filtered WiFi?!! No iTunes. No Netflix. No blogging from bed, as per normal. Now the internet is only good for online shopping (thank God) and Facebooking. Which is why you'll see more FB updates from me. It's just easier. I am sadly watching Netflix on my phone! We'll see how this blogging thing goes when it's 3 feet of snow to get to Alexanders. I may need to spring for that thingy that gives me WiFi wherever I go. Just don't want to add a monthly bill if I can work around it.
• Everybody who lives on my floor looks...about 12. And since I feel about 172 around them...this is a big gap. I find myself rebelling by spending WAY too much on dorm room improvements in order to feel like an adult. It. Will. Be. My. Haven. But seriously...I need to stop soon. How many throw pillows does a girl need? Strangely, though I feel like a centenarian right now, apparently I don't look it. TWICE on this trip my 18 year old son and I were mistaken for a couple. I don't really need to add that this sent my son into apoplexy, and he demanded to know if he looked 30 for reals. (Keep in mind I'm 41.) I assured him he did not, and that it was all me.  :)  And speaking of feeling like an adult...how can I when:
• It's a dry dorm. Yes, unless I want to be a law breaker (this early) I cannot bring in any adult bevies. And even if I wanted to, you can't just go to Safeway and pick up a bottle or two while you replenish provisions. All alcohol is sold at liquor stores here. I feel like I'm back in Canada! Seriously...when I was in college in the 80's we had a DRIVE THROUGH liquor store. Now that was neat. So in order to stay on this side of the dorm law I would have to walk a few blocks to a fairly sketchy liquor store and then drink it in my car. (Which may put me on the wrong side of state law come to think of it.) It is no wonder that I have been craving a glass of wine like an addict wants a needle. Which is why I'm at Alexanders...boozy-blogging. If this goes badly I may need to update from Starbucks in future.
  
• Parking. It's a pain. But on the up-side I am an expert parallel parker. But feeding meters every 2 hours my first days here got old quickly. I'm now in the lot provided by the school. The several blocks walk seems fine. Now. Ask me again in the 3 feet of snow.
• Did I mention the heat? I think I did, but clearly I wasn't finished. I stood in line, (svhizing) for my Healthcare Worker's CPR class and asked the instructor if today was considered a pretty hot day on average as I madly fanned myself with my booklet. She looked nonplussed and said actually today was considered cool. Tomorrow's supposed to be a real scorcher and I'm left wondering how much less I can wear before breaking laws for both the school AND the state.
• I could throw a stone at The Hood. Really. My charming, albeit working-class, Italian district borders places where I really shouldn't wander. Yes mom, I unpacked the hot-pink mace. And I had to keep possession of my son's switch blade, since he flew home with carry on bags. Yes!! Very handy for opening boxes. Hope I don't need it for any other reason.
• City people watching. I'm really having fun with this. Heavier women in daisy-dukes and 4 inch heels. Swarms of people in every-color-scrubs around my hospital...some in (gasp) yucky Hello Kitty scrubs. (Why?!) And then there was The Miner. (This is an over-18 observation. Please skip down if you're easily offended.) So on David's last day here I took him to get some *surprise* Italian food. We were sharing some cheese and walnut ravioli in gorgonzola sauce with artichokes and groaning with delight when I observed what had to be a drug dealer guy on the corner. I mean, why else would he spend the whole hour on the corner?! (Says the girl from the burbs.) Then I was transfixed, in that way when you can't look away from an accident, as this guy "readjusted himself" for...uh...had to be 5 minutes. At least long enough for me to realize it wasn't going to end, so I could point it out to my son. Sure enough, David looked over. And stared aghast, as it went...well, on and on. Then I started exclaiming, as the represented female in the group, that a girl can overlook it if anatomy requires a little adjusting from time to time. She can glance away, knowing it would be over by the time she looked back. But this guy was conducting a Mining Operation! Hence...Miner Guy. Sorry. But we shared another laugh together. It was hot, and we were punchy again.
• Oh I have more gripes, but what will I write about next week?  :)

The good parts.

There are plenty of those. I love old buildings and this town has plenty. Mine was built in 1892. I love exploring new neighborhoods and new churches. Plenty of that to come. I am sure I'll meet people, and that will be fun. The Italians love me already. I shower them (and their food) with praise. People here have been Over the Top Nice. I have always found Seattle fairly standoffish. Especially since I moved there from Abilene, TX -- where you are instantly part of anyone's family. Here in The Burgh I have met the kindest, most helpful people so far.

That is, until they get into their cars. Then they are evil.

Well folks, I hate to ignore my friendly server. It's time for that next glass of wine before I go back to my dorm...and the kids. And the boxes I have yet to unpack. Of course, after the next glass, I may just go to bed. In any case, I had better down it so I don't have to walk home in the dark and get mugged.

Tomorrow is the first day of Orientation. In 21 months and 29 days, I'll be a nurse!

Love and miss you all!

Update from the Couch

Satan's babies, the kidney stones on both sides of my body, made themselves known last week, and that is how I ended up here on my friend's couch, instead of on the beach, packing.

Yesterday I went in for surgery so I could rid myself of them once and for all before heading off to school. Though it was a surprise that I was going to need surgery in the last two weeks before my move, somehow the schedule would have worked out if everything had gone according to plan.

But it didn't.

In the middle of my operation, when my surgeon was going to blast one of the suckers with his laser beam -- the machine refused to operate! I was brought out of surgery, only half done with the procedure and told he'd have to go back in when a new machine was found.

Today I am recovering on the couch from surgery #1 and dreading #2, which will happen next Tuesday. Morale is low and my moving plans are shot all to hell considering the schedule didn't have much play in it. When I can concentrate further, I'll be working on Plan B for getting myself to Pittsburgh on time in order to become a nurse.

Life sure does take a turn sometimes. The bright side being, this is one more experience that will give me greater insight and compassion when I begin taking care of patients.

All I can say folks is...Drink Your Water!!

Last Call

Have started thinking about everything in terms of "lasts." Last 4th of July on the beach. Last time I might see that friend. Was that the last time I'm going to see my nieces and nephews? They had better not grow for the 22 months I'll be gone. Will this be the last time I get a My Pie at Katie Downs Pizza?

I'm having a strange sort of paralysis. I have less than four weeks to execute a to-do list that, when I look it over, makes me want to go back to bed. All I really want to do is wrap on a sarong, sit on my deck slathered in spf 42, and listen to the waves. I am trying to figure out how to bottle the scent of home: salty brine, cocoa butter tanning lotion, evergreens and wood smoke.

I have diagnosed myself with Premature Homesickness.

The calendar is certainly filling up. Lunches, coffees, dinners with friends. I feel like a rock band on a farewell tour! I'll have to squeeze in the packing and organizing in between these events. It doesn't help that I'm jetting off to the east coast on Monday. A quick trip to New York to see a friend, then down to Pittsburgh to attend a pre-registration thing. I'm pretty excited to get a preview of what will become my life for the next 2 years.

I dug my way through a pile of paperwork for the school yesterday. I am gratified to know how closely they look at anyone who wants to work in healthcare. Can't just swan in. They want to know if you are a felon. Or a druggie. Today I need to head to the police station to submit my prints for an FBI background check.

Great. Now I'll never be able to go on the lam!

Other than the necessary action items to make sure I actually qualify to do nursing school, I'm not really thinking much about my upcoming east coast life. I figure I'll have about 3000 miles to go over all of that in my trek across the fruited plain.

I'm going to soak up the sun and the fellowship with friends first.

Sweet Relief

It's over! That long and extremely intense combined A & P class is done as of today. I never knew I could physically feel my brain become too stretched and exhausted until this class. It's been 4 days straight of intensive studying culminating in a 3 hour final this morning. Some of the students got together for lunch (and a lengthy bitch-fest) after the test. The instructor wasn't kidding when he said that comprehensive exam was going to be rough. I wanted to bang my head against the desk through most of it. Thankfully he ran the grades right after. I am happy to report an A in 241, and an A- in 242.

Some have said that this class is just a precursor of how rigorous the nursing classes are going to be. I must say I go a little limp at that thought but then I remind myself that its only a 22-month program. AND it will begin after a lengthy 8 week break (starting today!!!) I can do it. Wish I was going to be able to do it close to home surrounded by friends and family, but maybe its better to be away where I can focus. I do hate to miss out on any goings-on around here. The many breaks throughout the year will allow me to travel home and reconnect during times when I won't be loaded down with stress.

8 weeks seems like a lot of time off. Remember summers as a kid? They seemed to stretch into eternity and by the end all I could do was look forward to school starting with excitement. Silly kid.  :)  Now I look at my calendar and gasp at how short a time that really is to pack up and move out of my house, get it ready to rent, get my son ready for college AND myself. AND move across country! (The list is really much much longer, but I won't bore you...)

On the very top of the list is scheduled time with close friends and family, and hopefully some long leisurely days on my beach.

SCHOOL'S OUT...SUMMER TIME!!!

Good Riddance

In the final week of my A & P class, I FINALLY was able to be seen for those pesky kidney stones that happened during the first week of class! After an ultrasound today I learned that one of my satan's babies is no more, having wandered out of my body in tiny enough bits that I never felt a thing. It may have been the tanker-load of fluids I've been downing, and quite a bit of help from above. (Thank you GOD!) Still have one hanging out in my right kidney, but it may decide to hang wallpaper and stay a while. I don't really care, since they called it "non-occluding," meaning it isn't blocking anything. And it doesn't seem to be kicking up a fuss. Fine by me. Plus, if it should make an appearance at some future date...hello, I'll be living the next 2 years in a magnet hospital!

How strange that I studied the urinary system and kidney anatomy just last week, watched as my instructor dissected down into the cadaver to reveal the kidney in place and then today I got to see my whole entire system on the ultrasound. I got to watch the blood flowing *cue rote memorization* in from the renal artery, through the renal medulla, pushing through those tiny nephrons to be filtered and back out again with every heart beat. I actually saw the ureter jets propelling fluid into the bladder.

In my former life, I doubt I would have even bothered to look at the screen during the test. But today I was a bit transfixed by it all. Sad that I'm my own guinea pig, but weirdly pleased that it all came together this way to reinforce my interest in all things medical these days. And...bonus, I came out with 2 working kidneys to boot.

It's nice to know I won't be requiring surgery in these five weeks of summer left on the beach before the big move across the country.

Turning Point

There are only a handful of days I call "Turning Point Days," that happen in life. Days you can point to that really changed everything that happened next. A wedding day. The birth of a child. Leaving a job.

Today is one of those days.

I have been waiting to hear if I am accepted into a nursing school back east and today, while I was in lab getting ready to do a pluck dissection (everything that fills the thoracic cavity: trachea, heart, lungs) my phone rang. Seeing the area code, I ran out into the hall to answer the call. It was the recruiter for the school with the good news that I will be joining their fall 2011 cohort! I think she was as excited to tell me as I was to hear the news (since she usually sends an acceptance letter, but made an exception this once since I'll only have a short time to get my life out west sorted out.) I giddily floated back into class and was congratulated by my A & P prof and fellow classmates.

I thought it would be difficult to focus on the lab, but I have to say they saved the best for last. This is our final dissection, and I found it the most interesting (other than the cadaver.) We got to feed an air hose into the trachea of a fresh set of calf lungs and actually re-inflate them. They blew right up like lung-shaped balloons and turned a pretty shade of light pink. It was really incredible to hold them and feel what they were like empty and full. Then we got to cut away the heart from the rest of the pluck and actually dissect down until we could see through the valves and into the chambers. We had to fill them with water and compress the heart to watch the action of the valves opening and closing. Without question, the hands-on experience of the labs in A & P are SO reinforcing in terms of bringing it all together. Just studying photos and diagrams wouldn't be the same at all.

And speaking of the cadaver -- I wasn't as brave as I wanted to be, but I didn't disgrace myself either. I double-gloved as if I might dig in and root around...but when it actually came time, I stood by and watched others. It wasn't so much the gore that bothered me, but rather the chemical smell they use to preserve the body. It was strong enough that I got a bit green around the gills. Standing next to him was the best I could do. I think if we had had several chances to work with him, I would have become accustomed to it and may have laid hands on eventually. It was rather fascinating to wonder what killed him. He still had a central line attached, and his heart looked about 2 times normal size. Most of his ribs were broken, indicating they had done CPR on him. Heart event? 

Tonight I need to study for the last big exam we have before going into finals in a couple of weeks. This test is going to be a doozy, and yet I am fairly distracted with all of the details now that I know I'll be moving. I am going to TRY and put it aside until after the test tomorrow. After that I'll think about:

- planning out the budget

- renting out the house

- packing up the stuff

- servicing the truck

- getting son off to college

- enjoying the weeks of summer left here on the beach

- what the uniforms look like for nursing students

- what my dorm looks like

- where my neighborhood will be

etc...

Onward!

Blogcrastination

I made up a new word for tonight's blog title. I have hit a studying funk in the lead up to the 2nd part of our finals for the first half of our anatomy class.  I aced the lab final which was all labeling. Tomorrow's is the physiology final...and that stuff is tricky. Still, I can't seem to get my head in the game today.

Maybe because today I heard back from that college I applied to out east and I'm moving further into the application process. They asked me for an interview. Which makes everything so much more real. When I looked under every nook and cranny out here in my area for a place to start nursing school and discovered there were no more seats available for fall, I began to broaden my search. This school has 2 open seats for fall, so I pulled my package together and applied.

If I am accepted I'll be faced with a tough decision.

a) Go!

b) Don't go.

One would immediately think option A. For a woman living on rapidly dwindling funds, it makes sense to get in and get out and get working as fast as possible. Leave home, family, friends, church and just buckle down and plow through a program. (Plus I used to live on the east coast, and love it.)

Option B, not going, means a certain delay before I can even apply to be accepted locally for winter quarter -- and with their lottery selection process, it's a 1 out of 20 chance they'll take me. I could easily be waiting a full year or more to start if I stay in town. (And during that delay, all of my hard-won science knowledge might dribble out of my head.) Still, I wouldn't abandon the kid, who will be attending college locally and could conceivably be home for sunday dinners, laundry, church. Friends and family would still be accessible. But if I stay I'll run out of money and that will be a huge bummer.

Choices...choices. Wait, what's that saying about not counting chickens before they hatch?

___

Random observation sidebar:

I see anatomy whenever I eat food. It's a bit gross. String cheese has been my favorite snack but now its the spinal chord with the white matter fibers running vertically up and down. Vanilla yogurt isn't very far from brain tissue. Never knew how delicate that was until this class. The roast I made today, I noticed the bundles of fasicles all held together with their respective connective tissues. Had to do a little dissection before it went in the pot. I was momentarily grossed out but recovered when it slow cooked all day and filled the house with aroma.

___

Alright...bombing tomorrow's test would put a huge cramp in my style. I should get back to the books...

Night!

Taking a Break to Whine

The lab final for Anatomy 1 is tomorrow. That's all the labeling of all the parts: bones, tissues, nerves, muscles, joints, body movements, eyes, ears... Actually writing the list gives me a bit of anxiety. Anxious why? Well, because no matter how well one has done throughout the class, getting less than 75% tomorrow means an automatic FAIL!

No pressure.

I mean, I just need the class to get into nursing school. That's all.

It's also Mother's Day. I'm a mother who has a cool kid. My 18 year old boy had a big breakfast with me this morning and gave me a lovely planter that he planted up with his choice of flowers. It's now my job not to kill them. Historically speaking, I have kept alive all 2 and 4 legged creatures. All botanical life forms have perished under my care. Which is why I live on a beach...no lawn! Still, very motivated to try this green thumb thing again, for his sake.

Oh...and an update on that TEAS V exam I took last week. As it turns out, I didn't study after all. Was too wiped out. I took the test and obtained an 80% overall score! The national average is 64%. So I'm pretty darned pleased about that. Should look good on the applications...

Well, I could likely procrastinate and think up many more things to write about. Instead, I think I'll study.

Massage...A&P Style

Went into an anatomy quiz this morning all frazzled because I waited until basically the last minute to start studying for it. Started yesterday at 4:00 pm and went until midnight -- which is nothing. I went in feeling the least prepared I have so far. Still I only got 1 question wrong. Shazam! I am realizing I have a talent for quick-aborption-and-regurgitation of material, which is no comfort really, since I must find a way to get it all to sink in. Permanently. Then after only four hours of sleep (the kid had to rise early for rowing practice) and then a quiz, we rolled into a mind-numbing 4 hours of lecture on nerves and action potential. (Now I know it's my least favorite part of A&P, at least so far.) So, after all that I was totally fried, and it was only noon.

I also have a talent for indulging in self-care. I marched right over to treat myself to a gourmet 3-course meal at the culinary school. Seven bucks! You can't even get fed at Applebee's for less! Then, since I was on a roll...I then signed up for a massage at the student clinic on campus. I'm going to have to fold that into my regular routine! It wasn't great, but it was better than...any day without a massage!

Trouble was...and I hope this symptom goes away -- I found myself doing a running commentary in my head while they worked on me; naming all the muscles and bones along the way! I seriously couldn't seem to shut it off and just have a little doze. LAME! Maybe next time I'm going to have to ask the student-masseuse to chat with me the whole time, as a distraction?

It's dinner time now, and all I want to do is take a bath and continue reading Atlas Shrugged for the first time. Then I want to head to bed early. The problem with that is I just scheduled yesterday to take the 4-hour TEAS V exam tomorrow morning! (The school I'm applying to out east needs it a.s.a.p.) I've been reading on the blogs that folks study for weeks for this thing, but I can't seem to muster up much interest in another cram session tonight. I realize this might be a critical error, but I think I'm going in cold tomorrow, and if it has to be my "practice round," so be it.

So bath. Book. Then BED!



(Who are we kidding, I'll take the damned study guide to bed with me...)

[Growl.]



PS: No news on the kidney stone, whom I've dubbed "satan's baby."

A New Twist in the Storyline

Spring quarter started off well. Did a dry-run commute to my new campus the week before classes began. Found the building. Purchased the books. Even caught up on a hundred loads of laundry. I was tired of leisure after spring break (if that's even possible) and ready to get started on what is going to be a very challenging term. I'm taking both Anatomy & Physiology I & II in a combined, ten-credit class which is only offered at another school, and the reason that I will be a commuter for the next 12 weeks. The only other class I'm in is an online Psych 200. I figured I'd burn my last "easy class" this quarter in order to give me the best chance of success in A&P.

So...prepared? Yep.

Like the teacher? Yes. (Awesome!)

Working my butt off? You bet. But seeing great results so far and feeling ahead of the game going into our 2nd week of class. I even decided to sing in the big Easter choir performance at church, even though rehearsals were going to take a bit of time.

So far so good. (If a sound-track were playing, ominous strings would begin now...)

Then yesterday I woke up moaning and writhing in agony and spent the day in the ER. (Not working on the paper that was due, or reading the 4 chapters I need to, or studying for the first big exam next week...or doing my taxes.)

So this quarter's surprise plot twist is...kidney stones!

Lovely.

On my left (and the reason for yesterday's little side-trip) is a whopping 4 x 6 mm stone which passed from my kidney to prepare for it's painful journey out of my body. And on my right, another similar stone is just hanging out in the kidney and could make itself known at any future point in time.

I actually did a little amateur diagnosing yesterday morning between groans -- seeing as I'm developing a rudimentary working-knowledge of anatomy. Not my stomach. Not my liver. Not the lady parts. Left side. Sudden onset of excruciating pain. And seeing as I am usually running a quart low in a perpetual state of dehydration, I suspected kidney stones. (Especially since mom had 'em too.) I am a terrible drinker. (Of water!)

So the nice doctor told me he had been told by former women patients, that passing kidney stones has been labeled worse than the pain of child birth. To this I smirked -- they must have been sissies, since it's likely their babies arrived in the usual amount of time, in the proper presentation. Not ear-first and face up after 36 hours of labor, like my child. (For which he is still grounded...) Plus, I've had my share of pain since then, which I wouldn't care to revisit, and which already beat my pretty good "horrible birth story." So I scoffed and went over with him the kind of narcotic pain meds I am sadly accustomed to taking at this point in my life. (After showing him my scars...the doc took my word for it.)

So yesterday afternoon I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder thinking -- I'm gonna beat this, no problem. Granted, I may have been more delusional than normal since I was high on Dilaudid.

Have you ever Googled "kidney stones?"

Don't do it...especially when you've got a couple just hanging out in your innards waiting to pounce.

The chip on my shoulder has melted.

They look like 3D throwing stars. Or those jax we used to play with. Something you wouldn't want to step on in the dark with bare feet.

It's just a waiting game now. The doc said it could be days or weeks. With pain that cycles from mild to...yikes!

Morale is low today.

I'm back home guzzling gallons of water. Peeing like a race horse and hoping this thing resolves as quickly as possible. I am like a watched pot that won't boil. I get nervous at any twinge that signals the return of the knife-like pain of yesterday. I am basically gearing up for a battle of unknown duration.

I started laughing hysterically this morning at this set-back. Another one, of many that have hit like little road-side bombs since I started this journey. Some just nuisance firecrackers. Others leaving big craters. That's when it felt like my life is like a reality show, and that the producers must get easily bored with the storyline. I guess the original premise for my "show" isn't enough -- that I left a great job, in the middle of my son's senior year to live off meager savings and pitifully small student loans to retrain into a science-based career, single and at the age of 40.

Nope. Those producers and writers of my plot-line must be gunning for ratings, because since this show started we've had a cancer-scare, weeks of pneumonia, scary financial twists, several car accidents and now the kidney stones. It makes me a little skittish to think of what could possibly happen next to make this series a little more interesting.

I imagine the director of this show saying something like this to me:

"Okay, you're pulling an all-nighter. The third in a row. Yeah...wait! Now try doing it with a rib-breaking cough! Better!"

"Okay, you're driving to school in rush hour traffic. Late for a test...yeah. No, that's boring. Try doing it with ice-picks dragging through your guts....Grrrrrreat!!!"

What will they think of next...?

Stay tuned!

Reflections on First Quarter

This will likely need to be a multi-parter, since I'm not sure I want to spend too much time this fine morning during spring break working myself up into an anxious state reviewing everything I learned about this back-to-school-adventure all at once. (Especially as I find myself in a fluffy hotel bathrobe, door to the deck ajar to the beach just outside and the town of Langley ready to be explored.)

The good news is I ended up with a 3.77 for the classes I took at my home school. Better than expected. Got a C in that Biology class from the other school, which I'll have to get transferred over -- but must say I am pretty darned proud of that grade...considering.

Broad brush reflections:

• Still loving wearing casual clothes everywhere. Not having to dress up in the mornings is a great relief. Conversely, since I look like a slouch most of the time, when I do go out, I really enjoy getting gussied up!

• I still feel strange going shopping in the middle of the day when the world is at work. However, those public holidays I didn't get to observe in the private sector are a sweet bonus!

• The reports I hear through the grapevine about how things are going at my former work place have a less stressful impact on me. I no longer feel like a traitor (much) or that I need to swoop in to make sure everyone is okay. Turns out, the world without me motors on just fine! (Lest I were in danger of developing a big head...)

• I'm especially proud of the grades considering: it was my first time back at school in years, the sciences do not come naturally, I had a month's worth of house guests, and I was sick with pneumonia for nearly a third of the quarter. Truthfully, I thought I would bomb.

• Being purposeful about getting together with good friends has to continue to be a top priority. They have kept me afloat and helped me fight this strange isolation of being in school at this age, and having to study when the whole world is at work or at play. I am ever so grateful I didn't abruptly move out of town to another school. Leaving my support system of friends and church would have been fool-hardy. I am really hoping I'll get into a local nursing school so I can stick around.

• I have even managed to go on a date and have several more pending. Never thought that would happen during such a crazy time. Still, made me feel good to get out. I need to really consider if it would be wise to actually launch into a relationship during this time. Likely wouldn't be fair to any poor fella. Hmmmm...

• Money is definitely on my mind. Savings won't last forever and I made too much last year to qualify for a whole lotta financial aid. My mantra? God. Will. Provide. (Amen.)

• And finally, though I'm heading into a tough couple of quarters...I'm considering whether I could carve out some time to volunteer at the hospital as I had originally planned. I'm really ready to connect what I am learning in the classroom with the industry I have chosen. I'd at least like to get some exposure to the healthcare setting in some small way. We shall see.

Those are a few highlights. Oh look! The sun came out and I discovered my new favorite wine...Whidbey Island White. Today I'm getting to that winery and stocking up. Even students need sustenance, right?

It tastes JUST LIKE SUMMER!

Just Call Me Patient Zero

It looks like I've been circulating in a whole new pool of germs, and falling prey to most of them.

While writing my bio midterm last Wednesday night I started coughing and had to excuse myself in the middle of the test. I didn't think too much about it, (other than I was losing valuable minutes!) Well that cough lingered on and a severe head cold settled in. As usual, I proceeded to ignore it -- proving I am the worst patient ever (according to my nurse/sister who is staying with me, along with her husband and kids.)

I continued to drag myself through the scheduled visits with friends I had stacked up for this past long weekend, since I had dropped off the radar screen while getting ready for exams. By Monday, however, I wasn't just dragging with a cold, I turned a corner and got sicker than I've ever been in my life. I now know what "fatigue" means...not just dragging, but STOPPED. In fact, my will went with my energy and I didn't even have the strength to worry about my looming chem exam. I struggled up the 220 steps to get to the doctor, and being out in the cold air made my lungs feel like I was breathing razor blades. Fever, chills, racking cough. I think I cracked a rib from all the coughing, no lie.

Doc says its pneumonia. And whatever bug I had quickly passed to my sister, her husband and my little niece. I'm crossing my fingers that mom doesn't get it...

Just call me Patient Zero.

I've been in bed a week and now have a week's worth of school work to catch up on. Sigh. The only saving grace has been that we've had a couple of snow days, so I technically only missed 2 school days. But it is still going to be a rough go catching up.

Somehow I need to go teach myself logarithms, write up some labs, study for chem and write a psych test...sigh. Well the snow has reminded me that it's not spring (break) yet!

Dropping Like Flies

It's midterm week and I am getting ready for my hated biology exam tomorrow night.

Dread dread dread.

Sounds like a couple of my buddies from class will likely drop before the add/drop deadline this Friday since they are doing poorly in class. Not that I'm doing all that great, but I intend to hang on and fight through, especially since we are at the half-way mark. I keep reminding myself that I just need a C to move on. Still, it makes me sad to see so many of my class mates suffering with this tough prof. One kid is a pizza delivery driver putting himself through school to become a nurse. Very hard worker. Immigrated from the Ukraine when he was a kid, and because english is his 2nd language, he's having a rough go.

Part of me is jealous they are dropping. But I'll fight through that and just press on. As my esteemed ex-husband used to say... anybody can stand on their head in a bucket of sh-- for a short time. (That's what the cadets used to tell each other at the Air Force Academy apparently.

Luckily we have a long weekend coming up, and my sister and her babies are here for cuteness distractions. I'll do plenty of catching up with friends this weekend before digging in for the second half of this quarter.

Counting down the days until this class is behind me.

Trudge trudge trudge.

My Mistake

Okay. 

I got a public talking-to. 

By my professor. 

Seems I grabbed the wrong tube in my biology lab last night. We were mashing up hamburger, straining it off with water, and running tests on in. (Very gory and disgusting.) So we needed to set up a batch of test tubes. And even though he explained the differences between the expensive cuvettes (only for use in the spectrophotometers) and plain old test tubes (to be used for my meat juice,) and even though it was also in my lab write up, I still managed to go for the wrong tubes.

It was like I had kicked his dog.

True, I had just come off 72 hours prepping for his exam, so I may have only skimmed the pre-lab write up. And true, I was operating on very little sleep and a whole lotta caffeine and missed a detail, but come ON man. Throw a girl a bone. So I got meat juice in your cuvette!?  Nobody lost an eye. I didn't release anthrax out on the general public. And we all came out alive.

As it was, I went about my business, finished running my experiment, and am now performing a public service for all biology students who come after me.

Just so you'll know, and never repeat my grievous error...here's a photo that will demonstrate their obvious difference:

Hey...don't say I didn't warn ya.

But seriously folks, he was obviously having a bad day. Otherwise, I enjoy lab with this prof quite a bit. I'm sure I couldn't deal with college kids in five classes and not gnash my teeth at them periodically. 

Plus I'll need to grow a thicker skin. I am going into nursing. I am bound to encounter testy patients, families and medical personnel on a regular basis. And I'll need to learn to roll with it. And I'm going to need to keep my eye on the details!

And I will.

The Calm Before the Storm

I have settled in to the pace of my new world of school now and am finding the transition between my former career and this life as a pre-nursing student challenging on some fronts, and refreshing at the same time.

The main challenge so far has just been the major gear shift I have had to make from an entirely creatively-focused industry to maths and sciences. For 15 years my world has been about design, which is entirely subjective. And as an Art Director, I directed that flow and spoke in terms like "the color needs to be a little warmer," or "I'd like to see a bit more contrast" or "how do these elements reinforce the client's brand message?" Good creatives excel at taking the subjective and applying some kind of rationale behind the design decisions they make in order to sell the work to a client.

None of that is going to fly where I'm going.

Now everything is either right or wrong. It's all linear (at least so far) -- and getting the decimal in the wrong place means you calculated the wrong dose, which could have dire consequences for your patient. The things I do now can be repeated, verified, tested. My creative friends who are reading this now are likely getting a little itchy. Designers don't like borders and strict definitions. They like to color between the lines. The thing is, I have always been a hybrid -- the daughter of an engineer and an artist, I'm pretty balanced between the linear thinking and creative/imaginative worlds. I can play in both paddling pools quite happily. So, the logic of what I'm studying now is new, exciting, and for once -- there is only one answer...the right answer.

That's kind of comforting for someone who has been having to defend the reason why something is more greenish-blue and less purple.

However, my brain is a little slow to make the switch. I have been joking with friends that for 15 years I have been feeding and watering the creative side of my brain, and letting the linear side atrophy and wither. Now I have turned on the fire-hose of information from my math and science classes, just pumping that under-fed side of my brain full of data points. And it has looked at me, raised it's eyebrows and said, "Screw you! You starved me for 15 long years and now you just expect me to carry you to the finish line?!" So now I'm busy giving the linear side of my brain a pep-talk. And we have decided to use this quarter as our warm-up.

Easy does it, linear me -- it's gonna be a marathon, not a sprint.

Week Two at School -- Whatever Was I Thinking?

Short post tonight, much to do.

Scheduling all of my pre-req's into 3 quarters by taking four classes instead of three each quarter just seemed like good sense when I was planning all of this out. When I chat with the other pre-nursing students I'm meeting in these classes and we discuss our class-load, they look at me with that, "are you nuts?" thing when I tell them what I'm taking. I suppose taking this many credits would have been fine if I had been starting from square one, but there are no more basket-weaving "buffer classes" to take. (I already took all those!) So, I'm in all pre-nursing classes -- back to back sciences and math. And I'm really feeling that 20ish year gap since I took calculus.

Just 2 weeks into my first quarter, with the avalanche of homework and memorization ahead of me, I'm thinking being tied to the train tracks might be more appealing.

Train's a-comin' folks.

I Fondled The Scrubs Today

Day 2 of my first week back in school and I have sweaty palms for many reasons. At the top of the list is just getting the classes I need. I may have mentioned this before, but my community college had only 3000 students a couple of years ago, now they have 9000. (I blame the economy. The unemployed are flocking back to school.) Getting classes is tough enough, but for the high demand programs like Nursing, it's a real slug-fest.

I just need ONE more class -- Biology 160 in order to have what I need this quarter. Because the Nursing pre-reqs are sequential, not having this single class bars me from getting into the Anatomy courses for the next two quarters. Unacceptable, since I am living on savings and know I'll be outta dough if I need to tack on an extra quarter this fall. My plan is to bang out all the pre-reqs in 3 quarters, making me finished and ready to enter a the Nursing college this fall (if God only provides me the spot!) I only need one kid to drop the class in order to slide into this class tomorrow. Plan B is to find any open seat at any college within driving distance...but I hope it doesn't come to that. I have commenced "bargaining-type" prayers today.

Next on my list of worries is clearing out the cobwebs of my neural-learning centers and remembering that I once learned how to write a number in scientific notation! I can see already that most days will find me planted at the math tutoring center drilling this stuff into my head. Hate math. Is why I went to art school!  ;)

So anyway -- there I was in the student bookstore to buy my lab notebook (sewn binding required...why?) And I looked up to see the SCRUBS! I have been biting my nails, trudging back and forth between buildings in the freezing cold, with all of the aforementioned immediate concerns on my mind, and then I saw the scrubs. Oh yes...the reason why I'm here. I got a little giddy like the time I was at the Wynn Hotel in Vegas, in line at the coffee shop, and I found myself standing next to Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran! (I was a rabid fan as a teeny bopper. Even dressed up as him for the middle school Halloween Dance! He wore a lot of makeup like any good New Waver would.)

In any case...like a silly girl -- I had been wondering what color scrubs the students at my school would be wearing. (Just like when somebody tells me they just bought a new car, I ask them about the color before I care about the make!) They wear navy scrubs. I highly approve! Slimming dark color, not easily stained with the inevitable fluids that will, no doubt, be splashed upon them.

My sister, who is already a nurse, is looking forward to my many "firsts" during the whole Nursing school season of my life. First bed bath. First injection. And now I see that the first day I don the scrubs will mark a victory over: getting through the pre-reqs, applying and becoming accepted into the program, and countless others.

Seasoned nurses likely grow tired of wearing scrubs, in the same way I grew tired of the business executive ensembles I had to pull together every day of my working life. The grass is greener syndrome, no doubt. As a business woman, rising each morning to spend time time extracting a nearly infinite number of outfits from my over-stuffed closet -- I always envied the Star Trek guys with their agreed upon uniforms. For the guys, with their Dockers (groan) and button-downs, it's not so bad. But for us gals, well -- I for one, will be glad to be rid of that pesky decision each day. For now.

Speaking of the transition from the working world to school...I had some kind of PTSD thing going on over the holidays. Since my former life was scheduled in 15 minute segments, and in every 15 minute block I could expect 50 or more emails to arrive in my bloated in-box, I had developed an iPhone checking habit that bordered on OCD-Rainman-Like behavior. The first couple of weeks sans job, during the holidays, I robotically checked my now-empty calendar and inbox just to stare blankly at it when no new calendar invites were sent, no new emails arrived, and no calendar alerts blinked at me. Then I'd chuckle nervously--assuming something must be wrong with the server, only to repeat said behavior 5 minutes later. I am happy to report that by the end of the holiday, I had weaned myself off the iPhone (unless it was to play Cut the Rope.)

So...baby steps, right?