Day X

A long, long, long time ago, I had my first day of clinicals. That day, I touched, prodded and poked my first patient. 500 hours of clincals have passed since that first day, discounting all the hours spent writing care plans, brooding over care plans, screaming at care plans, burning care plans, rewriting care plans, brooding over the rewritten care plans and screaming at the rewritten care plan again.

I kid you not.

Today, I had my last clinical day ever as a nursing student. Supposedly I am ready to go out into the world to poke and prod other patients. But before that, I have to rewrite my lastest care plan, brood over it, scream at it and finally, turn it in...

FOR.

THE.

LAST.

TIME.

Amen.

Long Live the NOKIA (part 2)

Two years ago, before the horrible phenomena called NURSING SCHOOL and NON-STOP STUDYING occurred, when I was a happy-go-lucky sophomore in college, without a care in the world, and the freedom to party every night if my carefree heart so desired, I dropped my NOKIA (spelled with capitals) into the toilet bowl.

Feel free to click on the link above and read the post. It written when I was a funnier, clumsier person.

Well, that phone survived me another 6 months before the display started to die on me and I inherited another NOKIA (spelled with capitals) to replace the NOKIA that got dropped in the toilet bowl. Well the new NOKIA served me for a good year and a half before I decided to test out its rumored indestructibility. I decided to wash it.

And no. Unlike what some people think, I did not go to my sink and wash it because I thought it was dirty.

What actually happened was that I was doing laundry at midnight (what better time to do laundry), after studying all day at the library...and on my way to the laundry room, I spied my sweater on the couch and  impulsively threw it into the laundry basket. Evidently my brain was not working at that point in time because my NOKIA was in the pocket of that sweater and got thrown into the washer with the rest of my stinky clothes.

That was how it got a bath. And that's how the circuit board got roasted.

So guys, NOKIAs are sturdy phones. They survive toilet bowls, 3 foot drops and being smooshed into 352 pieces. But they don't survive 30 minute hot water spins in washing machines. It just doesn't work that way.

Pictures of you...pictures of me...

Because I feel the need to prove that I do sometimes have a life...

My last break. Ever.

I am a senior in college with no intention of ever obtaining another degree (according to me, not dad), and this spring break is potentially my last break. Ever.

And I wasted it.

Doing homework.

And now its gone.

Forever.

Goodbye.

Out of that 9 day vacation, 36 hours was spent at clinicals doing nursey things. 12 hours on my research paper. 6 hours on my poster presentation for that research paper. 15 hours doing homework which is still not finished. 10 hours writing resumes, applying for jobs and things of that nature. And 15 hours at work.

Ah well, at least I got to spend 24 hours goofing off in Dallas with my equally goofy friends.

Senioritis.

Underneath the serene facade of this nursing student in her last semester of college,

There's a crazy demon clawing to get out.

Hello senioritis to the max.

7a-7p

So working a 12 hour shift isn't as bad as some people make it out to be. Heck ya I made it through. Of course it maybe-perhaps-could be because of the 36 ounces of a certain caffienated beverage in my system.

Over and out. Goooonite.

I have a rant...

I have a rant. I have a ran about the combination lock to the laundry room at my apartment complex.

The lock is stupid.

The lock has an IQ of a baby chicken.

The lock deserves to be put in a mental asylum.

Because you see, the combination lock refuses to work on the first, second or third try. No, it buzzes and beeps but never unlocks till 5 minutes later.

Which would be fine if it happened on a nice warm summer evening, when the sky is clear, with the stars clearly shinning through the atmosphere, and crickets cheerfully chirping in the background.

But when temperatures are below freezing, and all you are dressed in are pj's and a random jacket you grabbed from the back of a chair, it would be nice not to be stuck on the cold end of a door, punching in numbers and freezing my hiney off.

Or maybe I should just stop doing laundry in the dead of the night in sub zero temperatures.

Maybe I am the one with the IQ of a baby chicken.