Snowed in with Cabin Fever

I wonder how cold it has to get before PIttsburgers consider it cold? 

I'm at the diner now and chose to drive instead of walk this morning, considering it's well below freezing outside. Cold enough for me! I trudged the few blocks to the parking lot where my car is located, walked right by it and into the lot, racking my brain to remember where I parked it last. (I drive so rarely now, it takes a minute to recall.) No wonder I walked right by and missed it. It looked like every other car--buried in 5 inches in snow! I finally found mine and unburied it for the short drive to the diner. I figured it was a good idea to get the snow off today, since it's supposed to snow even more tonight and I actually have to drive to the hospital tomorrow, may as well get some of it dealt with today.

In any case, I passed the corner park thinking it would surely be deserted this morning, but of course it wasn't. The hail and hearty deck-hockey guys were out there playing in the frigid cold. It made me smile. How cold before they cancel the game?

I had a severe case of cabin fever this Sunday morning, after having been in the near-empty dorms all weekend and missed my usual friday night out when plans fell through. I consoled myself with Rom-Coms on the telly, catching up on my notes and cross-stitch. Luckily I did make it out Thursday night, unexpectedly. I was invited to karaoke night with a friend and a group of her friends from the hospital in which she works. Got to visit a cute new neighborhood and discover a nice old tavern--The Apple. Her friends were clearly all about karaoke--and I swear they were good enough singers to go professional. I love watching karaoke and singing along! Too bad I can't sing!  :)

There are clear downsides to living in this old building...the fire drills being the most annoying right now. Last year they had something like 36 false alarms, but it still means we all need to leave the building and wait in the park across the street for the 3 fire trucks to come and give us the all clear. The only up-side to this exercise is gawking at the gang of cute firefighters that swarm the building! Nonetheless, I have tallied it up so far, and of the 6 or so drills we've had, I have been pretty much naked when the alarm went off for most of them; just getting out of the shower or already in bed. (I have started getting a little skittish when in the buff, thinking that I will surely hear that blasted bell at any moment.) I'm beginning to take it personally, as if it just waits for the worst moment (for me) to go off. What the alarm doesn't seem to do is go off during the daylight hours, or when I'm fully clothed, or when I'm not even home. Why?

Last night was the worst yet. I had just showered and crawled into bed at midnight when the alarm went off. I glanced at the temperature and, seeing that it was 16 degrees out and snowing, I got myself fully dressed in tall boots and warm coat among much cursing and gnashing of teeth. Other girls chose to dash right out in what they were wearing, choosing the expedient (and undoubtably safer) option, especially had it been a real fire. They later regretted it as they fought hypothermia in the park in shorts and a tee-shirt.

I'm blogging from my counter seat at the diner now that my friends (the old duffers) have finally gone. I love to discuss old cars, the golden age of big band music, the work-ethic of today's young people and various other topics with them. But when they finally go, I get to put on my head phones, dial up some Perry Como (in homage to my vintage diner and vintage friends) and get my work done. Headphones are necessary to drown out the buzz; clanging dishes, shouts of "order up!" from the kitchen, and the gabbing of the waitresses. Headphones also discourage friendly conversation from my neighbors...so I can actually get my work accomplished. Of course, the diner doesn't have WiFi, as I discovered this morning, but I guess I really didn't think it would. It's okay, I brought plenty to do.

This week we went into the Sim Lab and learned all about IV therapy. How to hook them up, the ways to hang medications, give bolus doses through the ports, how to change the tubing. How to draw blood. I was so excited about all this until my clinical instructor told me that students are restricted from putting in IV's at my particular clinical site to which I've been assigned this term! Boo! How am I supposed to practice? By the time I'm actually faced with a real patient it will have been weeks/months since I was trained! I pity my poor first patient for this reason. Because of this, I'm determined to actually take advantage of the open lab sessions they have after class every Friday, so I can at least go practice sticking rubber people...until a real human subject is made available to me. Grrr....

I'll head to Whole Foods later and plan the meal I'll make for friends tonight. Something comfort food, since it's cold outside. I'm thinking a cheesy garlic scalloped potato dish with ham. And maybe pie. Something to stick to the ribs, fill our bellies and fortify us for the coming week. Calories be damned. I really miss cooking and entertaining friends over a meal. Glad to have a friend with a kitchen so I can do so once in a while!

Like a prisoner in a cell...I like to mark off the time remaining in the term on my white board, counting down the weeks until the end, and break. Happy that one week is already behind me, and girding my loins for the remaining nine. Oh well..."It Had to be You" is playing on Pandora, and I have notes to type. 

...Until We Meet Again!

Reflections from Gate B8

Parked by the window at Seatac airport awaiting my flight back to PIT by way of Chicago. Hoping the weather all along my route will cooperate and get me back on schedule.

It's a gorgeous northwest day...blue sky acting the backdrop to our stunning Olympic Mountains in the distance. Finding it very hard to leave home...again. Clearly, my homesick blues have already set in and I haven't even squeezed myself into my teensy coach seat. (What would it be like to fly everywhere first class?!)

Tomorrow kicks off Term 3. I am dreading it entirely. Not sure one week in between terms was enough to refresh my batteries before the hard work begins again. Plus, we will all be returning to the lecture hall, minus a couple of students who didn't make it. It's a bittersweet beginning. I realize we may lose a few now at the end of every term, but saying goodbye is still hard. These are folks we go through tough things with...all-night cramming for exams, scary encounters on the clinical units, and even just the mundane sharing of crappy cafeteria food together. Inevitably...we bond.

We return to find out what clinical rotations we'll have and where. I'm looking forward to that information...very much hoping to be placed at my 1st choice...the big city hospital located nearby, and NOT the smaller, suburban hospital that's a half an hour away. I'm living on borrowed time with the little beater-car I brought here, and hoping to stretch that time by keeping long commutes to a minimum.

I'm not sure of everything we'll be learning clinically this term, but I do know we'll be getting our IV training. I am VERY excited about that! Another skill that will make us more useful on the floor. Also -- I know we'll be getting a rotation into the OR. I'm looking forward to that, but with some trepidation...hoping the experience is interesting, AND that I don't disgrace myself by wussing out when things get gross. Which they will.

Finally, I do dread how busy I will be over the next 10 weeks. Selfishly, I'm hoping my new exercise regime I began when I moved here doesn't get sidelined when the schedule gets full. Taking my runs (nearly) every day is such a mental-health break. I don't like slogging along on the elliptical in the gym when it's too cold or snowy outside, but even that is better than no movement at all. Exercise has been such a de-stressor, and a welcome escape from the dorms.

In any case -- it looks like time to pack up and board the plane. To everyone I was able to see, and to those I missed this time -- know that I love you and will see you soon.

Win Some, Lose Some

For many, today was the low point of nursing school so far. I shall now refer to it as Black Tuesday.

Its the last week of Term 2 and we took a brutal unit test which covered (among other things) acid-base balances, fluids and electrolytes. Hello, SCIENCE! This test wasn't just going to be about concepts, it was about the details. And if you didn't spend time on memorizing a bunch of data, you weren't going to be able to reason your way to the answer. Most of that material was along the lines of, "you either know it or you don't." Many didn't.

Unfortunately, right after that we had our first Drug Exam. I had heard these were brutal, and preparing for it sure was. Again -- it was about a bunch of data; long unrecognizable drug names attached to lists —why would it be prescribed, what action does it take in the body, what contraindications might there be, what signs and symptoms would be associated with those, what nursing care is required? Lists...lists...LISTS!

Even recalling these hazy days of studying, cursing, and suffering that lead up to these two exams gives me PTSD.

For me it's the worst kind of studying. I'm terrible at it. I have a hard time concentrating because it's dry. I embark on mini-acts of rebellion and self-harm. (Like writing curse words on my notes or eating pizza both for dinner at 1:30 a.m....AND for breakfast.) Still, I've learned that I always do better than I think I will, because I have a somewhat dubious gift--I can cram through a bunch of material and the next day go write a test on it and end up with a fairly decent grade. This does NOT comfort me, although many would be happy to have this skill. All this means is I can hold the information in my head for only so long as it takes to pass an exam. Ask me next week...and I promise you, it's gone. Long gone.

I'm also a fairly decent guesser.

When taking a multiple choice test, any time I don't know the answer, I'll pick one, but I'll write a question mark next to the question. At the end of the exam...I'll know how many question marks I had and can sometimes get a pretty good idea of what my score might be. Today was the first day I had an ALARMING number of question marks at the end, and I truly thought it would the first exam I would have EVER failed. (Here at nursing school, and also in my whole life.)

I ended up passing the unit exam with a good grade, but as we went through the test, I realized that I was getting a number of my question-marked questions correct. I still don't know the material, and had no rationale behind why I picked one over the other...truly I thought I was throwing a dart and randomly just selected any answer. They just happened to be the right answers.

The drug exam was a squeaker. Two more questions wrong and I would have bombed it. Failed. 

I don't like how close I came to failing that exam. It was too close for comfort. I also don't like how quite a few lucky guesses got me that decent grade on material I will admit I still don't really know or understand. We'll also be covering this same stuff for the final exam this Friday -- and I'm going into it wondering how I'll study differently so I may end up with more answers I'm certain about, and fewer question marks.

I really don't want to bank on the fact that I'm a fairly decent guesser.

Pretty sure my future patients won't want to bank on that either.

I have one last complaint before I collapse in a boozy heap and conk out from pure exhaustion. (Because NOT going out for several beers today after the blood-bath just seemed wrong!) The timing of those tests stinks. Why both on one day? Especially because of the type of material it was, they could have spread them out. Why wasn't one tomorrow? We've got nothing going on tomorrow. In fact, we didn't even have our FIRST exam this term until week 4...surely by the end of week 2 we could have gotten one exam out of the way and pushed the whole schedule up.

From my perspective, overall organization of the schedule this term needlessly left us with a bottleneck of exams at the end. I've never been one to whine...I know that at times, things will just be hard. However, I do feel that the school didn't really get to see how well this cohort would be able to perform academically had the schedule been more spread out. I raise this complaint because I heard of so many students today who either failed one or both of those exams. I had a little wiggle room in my grade to be able to afford a hit. Too many students did not. I can't help but wonder if we'd all have done markedly better if given a day or two in between such difficult exams.

I know many are taking a hard look right now and asking some tough questions. Am I up to the academic standards needed to get through nursing school? ...Can I continue to hold down one or two jobs and still do it? ...Do I need to make adjustments in my life? ...Do I need a back up plan? ...A safety net?

We all need a break!

Good thing it's a week off coming up. Time to recharge and refocus.

Onward!

Buzzing 'Round Here

You can tell its a test week (luckily not for me) -- the seniors have one this week. Blessedly this week my cohort doesn't have one. Then we have something like 5 tests in the next 3 weeks. You won't be hearing a peep from me after this post. Yes--it's test week. Girls in sweats and messy pony tails flopped over every couch and comfy chair on every floor of the residence. Sprawled in the halls. Smudges under their eyes.

My class was back in clinicals this week. We go on Tuesdays to take care of our assigned patient. That means we do pre-planning on Mondays. The ratio of hours spent planning to take care of our patient, to hours spent actually caring for our patient seems to be about 1:1. Mondays we throw on our "assessment clothing" (career wear) under our lab coats and invade the ward -- looking for information about our patient, usually from the chart. We need to collect about a zillion data points in order to complete our paperwork, which will be due by end of day Tuesday. By the next morning we should be very familiar with what our patient has, how to care for them, what meds they are on (and what they do, what the side effects are, etc) and anything else relevant to their care--even though we have never met them. (We are welcome to meet them and even get our head to toe assessment done the night before...but who has the time?! --Actually it has more to do with interrupting their dinner and their sleep. Plus many of them are coming back from surgery and too groggy to put up with us.)

A person could go blind reading the charts. They are easily 4 inches thick and range from handwritten gibberish, nonsensical (to me) lab results, graphs, charts, and piles and piles of forms. I expect if we laid each page of a single chart end to end, we'd easily travel to the moon. The only good thing is that after weeks of hunting through them looking for the same information, I'm getting quite familiar with where to look. I'm getting faster. But it seems just as I get comfortable with something...they ask us for even more paperwork. So the ratio never really seems to change. One hour of pre-planning for every hour of care. At least for me. But I'm old and slow.  :)

The graphic designer in me is chafing at the poorly designed forms I'm forced to work with. Information design is one of my favorite topics. Its both a science and an art. The healthcare industry could truly benefit by investing in good design. Productivity and comprehension would increase. Error and eye-strain...reduced. Everybody wins! Lord, even the user interface on the "new" computerized charting systems seems pulled right from the early 90's. Nightmare!

Don't even get me started on the signage and wayfinding systems. Cringe!

Tonight I'm studying for a vocabulary quiz on elimination. There are more latin-derived words to describe pee and poo than I ever could have imagined. Speaking of poo -- I encountered my first (and long feared) diarrhea adult diaper change this week, and conquered it. Man...somebody else in my class got to insert their first catheter, while another had a wound vac...how cool is that?! (A wound vac is a machine that basically shrink-wraps draining wounds and applies suction.) And all I got this week was lousy loose stool. I was recently exposed to some pretty gnarly wounds and I just can't wait for more so I can practice my newly acquired wound-care skills.

It is really weird what nursing students think is exciting.

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!