I've been thinking about how nursing school's different from traditional academia. Yes we have exams and lab but it's nothing like a science class lab or anything I've ever experienced. We're assigned hundreds of pages to read each week and without fail each week I do not do it. It can't be helped, maybe if I didn't have a job and had no aspirations for anything resembling a life I would be able to get all the reading done, but that's not the world I live in.
Now, don't get me wrong, I do occasionally peruse my texts, and I carry my ATI books with me almost everywhere, but most of the time the dozen or so books that are 2000 pages long and weigh 10 lbs a piece... are decorating shelves. The lecture outlines tend to contain all I need for the tests. So long as I payed attention in class and took good notes I tend to do fine but even then I usually feel slightly like I'm training for the Olympics but I don't know what event I'll be competing in.
Take this exam for instance.
We spent 4 hours of lecture time going over medication types and odds are I wont be asked anything about the meds, the side effects or the contraindications that was 80% of the material. Odds are I'm going to get 4 different questions on whether or not certain meds should be taken with food or water or whatnot because those are the common sense things real nurses need. It's utterly useless to try and remember all the side effects they list for anticoagulants because when I actually get assigned an anticoagulant I'll inevitably find 17 other side effects that weren't listed and three that were don't fit this med.
It's incredibly frustrating at times.
I'm trying to take school in stride and adapt to this new way of learning but there are times where I miss the comforts of the past year. We didn't have a lot of money, but enough to pay the bills. I had time to go home if I wanted to, time to relax and actually enjoy my hobbies. Time to work out and time to sleep!
Now I barely feel like I have time to breath without someone else wanting something from me.
They expect more from us at school, or someone needs me to switch at work or wants help on their homework or help with their kids.
My online class suddenly requires us to come in for observations and the class I need to register for in the spring is filling up quickly but I don't have time to go sign up for it.
I have guilt spilling out of my ears that I haven't sent my brother a care package in Iraq yet, that I can't get home more to keep my Mom company, that I can't be with my grandparents as my grandfather is going through radiation, that I can't call my friends more often, that I can't help my husband out more around the house.
I'm stretched so thin that I feel inadequate at life right now.
They say to give it your all. Give it all you've got. I'm trying so hard to do that but there just isn't must left in me right now. I gave it all away, lost it, when we lost him.
Saturday marks six months since Dad died. Six months since one of the pillars of my life faded away forever. Six months that I've spent empty.
I get so angry sometimes I want to rip things apart.
I've done things right. I barely ever got in trouble. I did good in school. I didn't drink or do drugs. I went to college. I worked as much as I could. I met a nice guy and we got married. I decided to try an new career before wasting more money in school. I didn't have any children I wasn't prepared to care for. I found the career I was meant to pursue and I'm going after it.
But none of that matters anymore. When we found out Dad was dying I would have given anything to have had a child in high school. To have been able to let my Dad be a grandpa and give my kids the opportunity to know him.
My Dad died and I've always felt that he wondered where this book-nerd daughter came from. With few friends and even fewer boyfriends.
It's only now, in this depression that I can see how I truly am. I miss the outdoors and the solitude that we had in NY. I miss hiking unmanned fields and woods and following animal trails to the lakes and brooks. Flying kites over the hills and wading down frozen streams to catch minnows in the pools.
I hid myself in books because I dream of fantastic things. I wish there really were dragons and hobbits and magic. I used to stand outside during thunderstorms wishing for the power to control the weather. I'd fly a thousand miles if I only had wings.
I miss singing. Uninhibited screeching at the top of my lungs. No concern whether or not I was on pitch or disturbing the neighbors or forgetting the words.
Most of the time I don't like to listen to music now. It reminds me of home. It reminds me of Dad. I listen to books on tape a lot. Hide in that reality instead of this one.
This reality is lacking.
One more day.
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