I am pretty sure I am having an extensional breakdown of sorts. I am officially half way through my third semester of a bachelor program at SPEUSON (Selective Pretentious Expensive University School of Nursing-you know the one). The thought of being “done” and graduating in less time then it takes to complete the full gestational period of intrauterine life should thrill me. So...why am I anything less than thrilled?
I am still trying answer the question from my nursing school entrance application, “Why do you want to be a nurse?” and now faculty is telling me to start preparing for job interviews by January. Ensue panic attack.
Every time I pull on my knee-high compression stockings, slip on my 50 lb Danskos, and wrap my bright pink Littmann Classic II around my neck, I think ,“What the hell are you doing, Kelly?” to which I reply, “Not sure, let me get back to you.” I don't think that answer would really fly in an interview. Truthfully, I am an antisocial extrovert with an identity crisis, high gross-out factor, that enjoys autonomy with authority, and can remain somewhat emotionally detached in the presence of human suffering, so I thought nursing would be that "perfect fit.". But try getting all that to fit on the limited little spaces they give you to write on a job application.
Most days I feel more like my educational experience has been more of a process of elimination than one of growth and enlightenment. For example I now know that I will NEVER purposefully find myself in
- OR
- OB
- Psych
- Peds
Great! Except the only rotations I have left are Med-Surg and Public Health. What if those placements turn out to be just as disappointing as all the others. One thing that has become blatantly clear is that I will not be happy working on a general floor. My ADD gets the best of me.
My current Peds clinical faculty pulled me aside yesterday and politely told me that I was “insecure.” I am not being facetious when I say that remains the nicest thing a clinical faculty has said to me. She remarked on the incongruency of the “clinical” me and the “academic” me. Not that there was anything wrong with my clinical skills or anything. Just that academically on paper, I’m kinda a rockstar, but in person around patients, I’m more like a member of the road crew. My words here, not hers.
That’s high praise since I have been told by other clinical instructors that I need to work on “connecting more with my patients”, “being in the moment”, and being "less distracted”. The other day I was at an ambulatory site with a clinical instructor I had not yet met who said to me, “Wow, you have 2 kids and are a full time student?! Do you have a husband?!”. To which I answered yes, and explained that he is also a full time students with 1 full time job and 2 part time jobs. Her response, “You must REALLY! struggle.” Me: “Not academically, I’m just a really crappy mom,” (Mentally bludgeoning instructor to death with her clipboard).
