I absolutely love my job.
My preceptor is fantastic... she is literally everything I aspire to be... Super competent ICU nurse/retired flight nurse. Plus she's witty, kind, and swet. Kind of like having a motherly figure in the ICU. Which is definitely a necessity some days. She's there for me with literally whatever I need (work-related or otherwise) and is super encouraging. I feel like we could be friends. Just a wonderful person.
And today, for the first time since I started, I feel like I might be a real nurse. For the first time, I never had a sense of "holy-shit-I'm-drowning" which tends to occur each morning as I'm scrambling around trying to be everywhere at once. Including breakfast break (which Kathy is pretty insistent on). I think the big goal of breakfast break (besides actual breakfast) is to make sure you're getting that few minutes of peace and quiet, to just... be. I've never needed something so much. I can go blank for 10 minutes (usually mid-drown) and then come back, ready to do it all again with so much more energy than before. Which is quite possibly a combination of the solitude and caffeine from the coffee I usually slam.
I love the freedom I have. Kathy lets me do things my way, regardless of consequences obviously barring harm to patient life. But if I fail, it was my idea. Learn by doing. And Kathy paid me the biggest compliment today, probably without even realizing it. She told me I was a "delight" and followed it up with, "I really think you're gonna be just fine here." So. Happy. I really was a little worried. That I wasn't going to catch on. That I wasn't going to be good enough. That nobody wanted to have the new grad nurses around, since they haven't been for 5 years. But... for the most part, everyone's really cool. And for that, I'm super grateful.
It's not all sunshine and roses. I've left out most of the parts where something goes wrong and I feel incompetent. Kathy has obviously caught on to my "if it's not perfect the first time, it's a fail" attitude. She reminds me that I can't be as good as I wanna be 100% of the time. That's probably one of the hardest things I'm gonna deal with. Because I simply don't see why not.
We've had a few younger patients pass away as well and this is also especially difficult. It reminds me a lot of being in the PICU. You go home and you can't stop thinking about the patient and the family. Obviously I can't do this. I'm going to get mentally and emotionally exhausted very quickly. So I need to learn how to leave work at work.
Leave work at work, and realize I'm never going to be perfect.
But I think I can do it. I know I can do it. It truly is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. I've found that thing I was meant to do. And I'm so completely happy doing it. I truly am blessed.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Things That Make Me Happy This Week
This week, I will legitimately be a nurse to a critically ill adult. Granted I still have a preceptor, and will until September, but... up until this point, the nurse in charge of a baby-sitting me has always taken over when things got hairy. Now, I better know what to do (or find someone who does) pretty quickly. Does that scare me? A little. But it makes me a whole lot more excited too.
My bestie got a 36 hour vacay and chose to spend it with us in Fargo. Christa got in late Friday night and stayed until early afternoon. We spent the day walking around downtown, playing made-up drinking games on the lawn outside, and then getting way too dressed up for a Redhawks' baseball game, before going downtown for the evening. It was absolutely wonderful. Such a chill day followed up by a fun evening.
My new roomie loves plays as much as I do. So Linds and I have chosen to look into season tickets for the Theatre B as well as going to MSUM's Straw Hat shows this summer. This is my own personal way of trying to culture myself. And gives me a tie to the thing I loved most about high school. Kid in a candy store.
I have a live recorded vid of Boondocks of my phone. Little Big Town came to the Red River Valley Fair Friday, and tickets were only $7. While the weather was crappy and mildly dangerous, we stuck it out to hear the song we had been waiting for. They're such a good show, and just as my friends and I were deciding we really should find shelter because death by lightining sounds messy, they played Boondocks. I can die happy.
Kristy is married. One of my very good friends, Kristy, fell in love with a foreign exchange student from Norway a week before he had to return home. They dated via Skype and extended visits to each other until she moved there in October of last year so that they could be together. The two of them were married July 2nd in a beautiful ceremony in Lillehammer, Norway. I am so happy for her... the pictures are gorgeous, she makes a beautiful bride, and she now has a letter in her last name that isn't even in the English language.
My bestie got a 36 hour vacay and chose to spend it with us in Fargo. Christa got in late Friday night and stayed until early afternoon. We spent the day walking around downtown, playing made-up drinking games on the lawn outside, and then getting way too dressed up for a Redhawks' baseball game, before going downtown for the evening. It was absolutely wonderful. Such a chill day followed up by a fun evening.
My new roomie loves plays as much as I do. So Linds and I have chosen to look into season tickets for the Theatre B as well as going to MSUM's Straw Hat shows this summer. This is my own personal way of trying to culture myself. And gives me a tie to the thing I loved most about high school. Kid in a candy store.
I have a live recorded vid of Boondocks of my phone. Little Big Town came to the Red River Valley Fair Friday, and tickets were only $7. While the weather was crappy and mildly dangerous, we stuck it out to hear the song we had been waiting for. They're such a good show, and just as my friends and I were deciding we really should find shelter because death by lightining sounds messy, they played Boondocks. I can die happy.
Kristy is married. One of my very good friends, Kristy, fell in love with a foreign exchange student from Norway a week before he had to return home. They dated via Skype and extended visits to each other until she moved there in October of last year so that they could be together. The two of them were married July 2nd in a beautiful ceremony in Lillehammer, Norway. I am so happy for her... the pictures are gorgeous, she makes a beautiful bride, and she now has a letter in her last name that isn't even in the English language.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
White Trash Weekend
As I mentioned prior, I went home to Dickinson for my very last Fourth of July as a free (read: unemployed and impoverished) woman. While we can all sit around and speculate what happened (again read: alcohol suddenly becomes appropriate for any event), it's difficult to understand what it's going to be like until it actually occurs. And even then, it's hard to believe it's real life. But yes, ladies and gentlemen, I grew up there... I call it home... and even I can't explain it.
This 5 day stretch has been deemed by the Convention and Visitors' Bureau "Roughrider Days" because we can't seem to let go of the fact that Teddy Roosevelt stayed here for a couple days once. We hold tight to the quote about how the Badlands "made him what he was today" (it's all we've got... ND needs something to be proud of..."TR once walked on that grass over there!") If you're really interested, we've written a musical production that is performed every night from Memorial to Labor day in the summer in Medora. Most of us who have grown up here can even sing you a song or two. Or, if bribed with money and/or beer, could reenact the charge up San Juan Hill for you (If you don't know what this is, shame on you. Please google it).
While 'Roughrider Days' is all fine and dandy, I think White Trash Weekend is slightly more fitting. Why? Here's a random sampling of the weekend's events:
You can start by attending 1-4 different rodeos (beer is provided). I have no other information on this, because I, on principle, do not attend rodeos. I was scared shitless as a toddler by the rodeo clowns who blew things up. I did not, and still do not, enjoy loud noises. I also haven't forgotten the clown's name. Dr Ben Crazy. Took me a good 5 years before I didn't scream going to the doctor because I was afraid that fruit loop would show up.
A number of bars also do outdoor beer gardens (Raise your hand if you aren't from southwest ND and still know what a beer garden is). One actually blocks off an intersection in the middle of the road to do Party on the Pavement (too bad if you wanna use that intersection... it's outta commission for a full three days). Party on the Pavement has a different live band every night. Everyone who is anyone over the age of 21 goes. You drink a little too much, you dance to the music, and you do it with your grandma. Why? Because you can. Beware, however. You never know who you'll meet there. Ever consoled a high school teacher who thought she was a bad mother? How 'bout fought off a guy who is convinced you sold him tickets to a concert... and now you're besties? No matter what you choose to do, just remember... that old woman grinding on that pole is probably someone's mother.
Then, if you get bored of that, we try and bring in a band. It's never someone who is currently popular... they're usually someone who WAS popular, or someone we claim is going to be popular soon (don't judge... we got Rascal Flatts before their homerun "God Bless the Broken Road"... look who's laughing now). They also are always a country artist, so if you don't like that, it's really too bad for you. Again, this is something I have never attended, as I'm not an avid country music fan and I would much rather party on the pavement. But this event is open to all ages. So, when you wanna get drunk but have no one to watch the kids... (disclaimer: this author in no way encourages drunk driving/letting your children see you puke on yourself... but it happens more often than not, it seems).
The parade is always Saturday morning, regardless of the date. When I was younger, I used to love catching candy. However, now that I am older and obviously more mature, I like to ride on floats and throw the candy. Or at least, I thought I did. Kids have gotten a lot meaner since I was 6. They now fight with each other and steal things out of each other's hands (the parents don't stop it... some of them are often trying to subtlely steal candy out of their children's bags) I also don't recall running up to floats, demanding candy/frisbees/whatever items they had. I waited my turn, and if I got it, fine (Again, I don't remember my mother doing this either, but we had a few who would come up and shriek in your face, "Lady! I SAID I wanted a frisbee!")
The last day of the weekend is the Demolition Derby. What are we demolishing? Cars, obviously. The drivers build cars out of spare parts and then run them into each other. How do you win? Well, your piece-of-shit car has to outlast the other piece-of-shit cars. If you start on fire, you're automatically disqualified (much to the chagrin of the audience... both loud crashes and large fires get long applause from those of us who pay to attend). Also, it is helpful if you can dress in "derby" attire. Not kentucky derby... Hats here, are baseball caps. And dresses are usually worn a size or two too small without a bra. Guys wear a nice cutoff denim vest and mullets are encouraged. I can't explain to you WHY I go. Just know that I do, and I enjoy it very much.
Just because the city doesn't sponsor it does not mean it can't happen. One of my favorite Roughrider Days events is family barbecues. Not my family, since they usually go out to the cabin, unfortunately (or fortunately...I do enjoy boat time). So I have to crash other family barbecues. Like my best friend Christa's. We had a whole new experience there this weekend. She accidentally sprayed pepper spray in the kitchen, and then turned on the water to wash her hands. Apparently this makes it more potent. Which sort of converts it to tear gas. So now we're all gagging, coughing, and army crawling to safety (had I been a betting woman, I would have bet that someone would puke in the front hall before reaching the freedom of the outdoors). Well, all except Mat and Tom, who were exclaiming that nothing could make them leave the kitchen. We were all in agreeance that this was our first time ever being maced. Well. Almost all of us ("Not me."--Tom Merkel)
White Trash Weekend is a wonderful time. Even though I've had the opportunity to do other, classier (albeit more boring) events, I have always turned it down to go home and partake in Roughrider Days. I am very insistent that I have more fun than you. And would love so very much for you to experience it for yourselves. Put in your time off now. This is not a weekend you want to miss.
This 5 day stretch has been deemed by the Convention and Visitors' Bureau "Roughrider Days" because we can't seem to let go of the fact that Teddy Roosevelt stayed here for a couple days once. We hold tight to the quote about how the Badlands "made him what he was today" (it's all we've got... ND needs something to be proud of..."TR once walked on that grass over there!") If you're really interested, we've written a musical production that is performed every night from Memorial to Labor day in the summer in Medora. Most of us who have grown up here can even sing you a song or two. Or, if bribed with money and/or beer, could reenact the charge up San Juan Hill for you (If you don't know what this is, shame on you. Please google it).
While 'Roughrider Days' is all fine and dandy, I think White Trash Weekend is slightly more fitting. Why? Here's a random sampling of the weekend's events:
You can start by attending 1-4 different rodeos (beer is provided). I have no other information on this, because I, on principle, do not attend rodeos. I was scared shitless as a toddler by the rodeo clowns who blew things up. I did not, and still do not, enjoy loud noises. I also haven't forgotten the clown's name. Dr Ben Crazy. Took me a good 5 years before I didn't scream going to the doctor because I was afraid that fruit loop would show up.
A number of bars also do outdoor beer gardens (Raise your hand if you aren't from southwest ND and still know what a beer garden is). One actually blocks off an intersection in the middle of the road to do Party on the Pavement (too bad if you wanna use that intersection... it's outta commission for a full three days). Party on the Pavement has a different live band every night. Everyone who is anyone over the age of 21 goes. You drink a little too much, you dance to the music, and you do it with your grandma. Why? Because you can. Beware, however. You never know who you'll meet there. Ever consoled a high school teacher who thought she was a bad mother? How 'bout fought off a guy who is convinced you sold him tickets to a concert... and now you're besties? No matter what you choose to do, just remember... that old woman grinding on that pole is probably someone's mother.
Then, if you get bored of that, we try and bring in a band. It's never someone who is currently popular... they're usually someone who WAS popular, or someone we claim is going to be popular soon (don't judge... we got Rascal Flatts before their homerun "God Bless the Broken Road"... look who's laughing now). They also are always a country artist, so if you don't like that, it's really too bad for you. Again, this is something I have never attended, as I'm not an avid country music fan and I would much rather party on the pavement. But this event is open to all ages. So, when you wanna get drunk but have no one to watch the kids... (disclaimer: this author in no way encourages drunk driving/letting your children see you puke on yourself... but it happens more often than not, it seems).
The parade is always Saturday morning, regardless of the date. When I was younger, I used to love catching candy. However, now that I am older and obviously more mature, I like to ride on floats and throw the candy. Or at least, I thought I did. Kids have gotten a lot meaner since I was 6. They now fight with each other and steal things out of each other's hands (the parents don't stop it... some of them are often trying to subtlely steal candy out of their children's bags) I also don't recall running up to floats, demanding candy/frisbees/whatever items they had. I waited my turn, and if I got it, fine (Again, I don't remember my mother doing this either, but we had a few who would come up and shriek in your face, "Lady! I SAID I wanted a frisbee!")
The last day of the weekend is the Demolition Derby. What are we demolishing? Cars, obviously. The drivers build cars out of spare parts and then run them into each other. How do you win? Well, your piece-of-shit car has to outlast the other piece-of-shit cars. If you start on fire, you're automatically disqualified (much to the chagrin of the audience... both loud crashes and large fires get long applause from those of us who pay to attend). Also, it is helpful if you can dress in "derby" attire. Not kentucky derby... Hats here, are baseball caps. And dresses are usually worn a size or two too small without a bra. Guys wear a nice cutoff denim vest and mullets are encouraged. I can't explain to you WHY I go. Just know that I do, and I enjoy it very much.
Just because the city doesn't sponsor it does not mean it can't happen. One of my favorite Roughrider Days events is family barbecues. Not my family, since they usually go out to the cabin, unfortunately (or fortunately...I do enjoy boat time). So I have to crash other family barbecues. Like my best friend Christa's. We had a whole new experience there this weekend. She accidentally sprayed pepper spray in the kitchen, and then turned on the water to wash her hands. Apparently this makes it more potent. Which sort of converts it to tear gas. So now we're all gagging, coughing, and army crawling to safety (had I been a betting woman, I would have bet that someone would puke in the front hall before reaching the freedom of the outdoors). Well, all except Mat and Tom, who were exclaiming that nothing could make them leave the kitchen. We were all in agreeance that this was our first time ever being maced. Well. Almost all of us ("Not me."--Tom Merkel)
White Trash Weekend is a wonderful time. Even though I've had the opportunity to do other, classier (albeit more boring) events, I have always turned it down to go home and partake in Roughrider Days. I am very insistent that I have more fun than you. And would love so very much for you to experience it for yourselves. Put in your time off now. This is not a weekend you want to miss.
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