The Office

Since my kid brother moved out a few weeks ago I converted his old room into my study.  It's primitive, don't get me wrong, in fact, the lamp is just for show. (I usually study by daylight)  Really, what more do you need then a table and chair?  Maybe some padding for the chair... 

 

essentials. 

Today I had a check off for administering meds and assessment report.  Fortunately, because of the weather the assessment report has been pushed back to Thursday.  Normally, check-offs are done in pairs.  Since I was the only student early to clinic I had the opportunity to go into check off alone.  For this skill, we were given a list of 6 meds for a patient and then had to spew off the mechanisms, interventions, side effects, calculate doses, etc.  I didn't spend a lot of time in preparation, partly because I knew the general information already, and partly because I was exhausted with tests and whatnot.  I walked into the exam room and sat down with the prof. and started in.  I knew the information and had cards prepared but I didn't want to read off the cards so I did a lot of mumbling and talking-it-out.  The prof was really great about everything and we even had some aside conversations about the drugs, real life experiences, etc.  In the end I received an "O" (outstanding) on the skills check-off.  I earned an "S" (satisfactory) in hand washing and somehow I got an "O" in medication administration?!   I certainly would not have given myself an "O".  At one point during the check off I wanted to stop and tell the prof. to mark me as "U" (unsatisfactory) and I would attempt the skill a second time.  I'm frustrated that I didn't preform as well as I think I should have.
Thursday is orientation at the clinical site and afterwards, we have our last skills checkoff; independent skills and systems assessment.  It's about to get crazy...

"There is a sacredness in tears.  They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.  They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.  They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love."  
-Washington Irving

life

• finished first week of school.  63 weeks left.
• car broke down on way home from first day of school.  Was without a car for a week.  I have an awesome mechanic who was able to diagnose a faulty distributor and plugs, able to repair the problem and do an oil change, thus prolonging the life of a car with 250,000+ miles.  
• new friendships made at school + dividing homework assignments up and swapping answers = a little less stress.
• awesome classmate, Alyson who lifted my spirits up with a unexpected walgreens bag containing a new scientific calculator for dosage class, two valentine pencils, chap stick, and peanut butter and chocolate protein bars (a must for the late night patho. class)
• paying for a grande coffee and receiving a venti because they were out of the grande cups
• michelle's book comes out in march!  don't let me down, j :)
• interviewed for the city newspaper regarding school nursing program
• excited that University is opening the second medical school in the state.  Haven't decided what that means for me.
• meeting new warehouse manager for FAME and discussing ideas to get medical supplies from Louisville to headquarters.
• learning to protect my time (read: say "no") in order to read and study.
• still hesitant about my new assignment but remembering that God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called. 

Jan 11- May 5---> Spring semester classes (15 hrs.)  If completed successfully, continue on to:
May 6-June 4---> Maternity
June 10-July 13---> Pediatrics
July 15-Aug 13---> Med/Surg. II
Aug 14-Aug 22---> Summer "Vacation"
Aug 23---> Fall Semester begins if summer semester is completed successfully.

I know how you feel.

A week ago I attended Rob Bell's book tour,  Drops Like Stars.  Zondervan describes the book as 

 "an exploration of the complex relationship between suffering and creativity, driven by the belief that there is art in the agony."  In his presentation, Rob touched on different arts such as the art of solidarity, art of disruption, and the art of elimination.  My biggest take-away from the night came from the art of solidarity.  As part of Rob's well rounded message, every person in the audience had an index card and in their non-dominant hand wrote the words, "I know how you feel."  Rob asked a series of questions, "Have you ever been addicted to anything?", "Have you asked yourself, 'How am I going to pay the bills?'", "Have you ever been betrayed?"  After each question you were to find someone that you didn't know and switch cards with them.  In a matter of minutes it was evident that although many of us think that we are alone in our struggles, we are anything but.  

Another thought of Rob's that I resonated with was this, "When I suffer, this too will shape me.  The time will come when I will have to begin to entertain the idea that there is a new tomorrow and that I will be ok."  Despite the efforts that we put into place to plan tomorrow and the weeks and months ahead.  We don't expect a curve ball to be thrown or a wrench placed into our plans, but when that happens there will be a period of shock, feelings of defeat, a time of contemplation, etc.  It is then that we will pick up the pieces, because even the failed pieces are important; and we will start to think that perhaps there is a tomorrow that we have not planned and something great is waiting to come out of it. 

The art of solidarity.  Just last night I looked at my note card and wondered how could Jesus know anything about how I am feeling.  Does He know how it feels to be used and to be forgotten?  Does He know the pain of words that stab like a knife?  Does He know loneliness?  Has He been robbed of joy and trust?  Tasted failure?  Does He know what it's like to try to work with an uncommitted person?  It wasn't long before I was reminded of how Judas gave him up so easily; how Peter denied him three times, the many who cursed his name and the millions of uncommitted people today who he desperately wants an intimate relationship with yet they would rather remain lukewarm and not buckle-down for anything too serious.  Yeah,  He knows how I feel. 

In the end I wonder how many of us forget or don't realize that God is screaming alongside us when the difficult and unexpected happens.

 my notecard.