First day vs. last day

Yesterday was the last day of class for my R.N. program. I'd love to say we were all feeling surreal and full of respect for the major accomplishment we're about to complete, but the lecture was on genitalia and at one point the professor definitely drew a penis on the powerpoint, so you can just imagine. Also, we had an exam first thing and we all hate everything by now, so we just want to be DONE.

I went back and found the post I wrote on my first week of school. I will now reflect on it:

 "Homework" [as an English major] consisted of reading the text and being prepared to analyze and discuss during class. I grew tremendously as a writer during those years, both academic and non-academic, and I learned to think critically and analyze anything written. Those are skills.

Still having to read and think critically, but in a far more important way now than I ever did then. 


But now I'm learning skills. As I told my brother on the phone yesterday, it's a crazy, amazing feeling to walk into class knowing nothing, and walk out 4 hours later knowing how to do things. 

I do know lots of things, but I don't really think about them anymore. They're just things that you have to do. Still cool, though, I guess. But a lot of the times, it's more of a pain than excitement...

Getting CPR-certified was another eye-opener. You suddenly have this weight of responsibility--if you see someone go down,  more than likely you're the only one who's going to know how to respond. That's a lot of pressure. I constantly think about giving CPR, different scenarios in which it might happen, and run through the steps over and over in my head.

Yeah, I never do this anymore. I've been re-certified twice since then and done so many mock codes that I'm blue in the face (blue, get it? Code Blue?) Fortunately, I've still yet to have to do CPR, though a friend of mine did when he was shadowing in the ICU one day. Does it scare me? I mean, in a way, but mostly I know it's just something that must be done. 


This weekend I have to write a paper about Why I Chose Nursing/What Nursing Means to Me. I have so many feelings about this subject, some of which I'm not sure belong in that paper. Such as: I like knowing things. I like having facts in my head like secrets the rest of the world doesn't know. When someone asks a question, I like to know the answer.

HA. I don't remember what that's like. 


 I like being asked for an opinion because I'm the most qualified to answer.

False! I am now my family's substitute for proper medical care, and even though I always start by saying GO TO A FREAKING DOCTOR, they still prefer my opinion. I do manage to fit in GO TO A DOCTOR about ten times per conversation, though. 


Anatomy and Physiology makes me giddy. I'm going to know the name and function of every part of your body. It's like a secret language, an In club that only certain people are part of.

Yeah, I lost my membership to that club. Know the name and function of every body part? HAHAHAHAHA. 

It's amazing.

Okay, that's still true. 

Also, we're going to have a cadaver lab in mid-October and I am so excited.

That was totally awesome, I do admit. 



So am I a bitter old almost-RN now? No...but yes. And I haven't even started my career! 

Happy trails! I have 2 weeks, 2 finals, and 6 standardized tests, and then I'm outtie!