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!