an introvert's journey into the world of nursing. a journal of science, venting, and storytelling.



Well, fuck me. 

Had three patients at the start, d/c one, one stroked out, gained a medical pt. I thought I did okay. I did all the meds, rounds, new orders, assessments, discharge teaching x2, got a cantankerous old patient up and walking and up to the commode when she just wanted to sleep x2, reacted and responded to stroking patient and family, gave report to ICU (“good report”, said nurse who thinks I’m an idiot (NWTII)). 

I was feeling okay with myself around 1830 as I was almost feeling like this was okay, that I was okay, that things were going to be okay finally. 

"How many more orientation shifts do you have left?"

"Are you going to ask for more?"

"If you explain your reasons, they’ll give you more."

I have four shifts left. No, I wasn’t going to ask for more based on how things went tomorrow and the next day (today doesn’t count). What are my reasons for asking for more shifts? I thought I did okay today. Yes, everything is new and scary, but I finally am getting a grip on things, I thought?

FUCK me, I have to go back tomorrow and prove myself. I feel like such a fucking loser. I wish someone would give me some concrete feedback!!! J said “you did good today!” on Day 3/4 when I had two patients. NWTII said I gave a good report to ICU. No one has ever said, “you should work on your time management skills”, or, “you should spend more time doing x/y/z”… what am I doing wrong that is so bad no one has brought it to my attention?

I don’t think anyone likes me, either. J booked off her last two mentor shifts with me. M and J and NWTII disagreed about who should “take” me. I feel like I have to force my way into breakroom chatter. No one ever talks about their personal lives with me unless I specifically ask to their face one on one. No one has invited me out to these famed breakfasts after night shift. No one wants to get a coffee with me. I’m pretty sure people are talking about me behind my back. The UA is the only nice one who will engage me or ask how I am. 

I have two new bites. My place still looks like a garbage dump. I haven’t done my dishes. Most of my food is carbs or totally spoiled. My dad is going for surgery on the 3rd and I won’t be there. My best friend is having a big party on the 5th and I won’t be there. 

I miss home. I miss my family, my friends, my hospital! Should I go back to Victoria? L got a FT position at SPH. I feel like such a fucking idiot. Why on earth did I leave!? People keep asking me and it’s harder and harder to give them an answer. 

i got a job offer! for a position that i’m really interested in, but in an area i’m ambivalent to… waiting for an interview for a position i would kill for in a location i’m thrilled about. i called to ask for an earlier interview, but i haven’t had a response yet… argh.i am really just happy to have a job offer in general! but i want to be prudent about what’s best for me at this time…

I didn’t fit in and wasn’t good at very much. So I decided to become really good at learning.


first days are always hard. instructor seems like she picks favorites, and rides the asses of those who aren’t those lucky few. insane expectations and no background in ER. frustrating. told us the same story 5x about shoddy nursing care and how we always need to be ~perfect~. sorry lady, we’re all humans (last i checked) and we need to know that we have someone on our side if we fuck up or need support. did not get any of that today; she became passive aggressive with a classmate for asking about dress code. when people are too scared to ask questions, they don’t ask question, then mistakes are made from assumptions. you are perpetuating a culture wherein mistakes are insidiously happening. 

manager seems awesome, receptive, and intelligent. excellent. 

i feel so mentally exhausted from today i just want to scream/cry/sit in a bath until i shrivel into a human prune. boyf is as supportive as he can be, but all i really want is a hug and a shot of whiskey.

i start tomorrow. first day, let’s try this out. the place is packed, the flu and gastro running rampant around the city. fuuuuck.

Long distance is so goddamn hard sometimes. One partner will likely be busier than the other, and the less busy partner should accomodate, right? I’m tired of being accomodating. I’m tired of dropping everything so we can talk when you have time. I had things I wanted to do today, you deciding out of the blue that you wanted to talk to me after four days of nothing, me dropping my plans, and then you signing off early because your friend came over early. You didn’t even apologize. 

I know medical school is hard, and I know it’s so exciting that it’s the only thing you want to talk about (other than all of your medical school friends, of course), but can’t we talk about me sometimes? There’s nothing terribly exciting going on with me, I know, but it would be nice if you just let me talk, without interrupting, for a little bit. 

I wasn’t invited to your best friend’s birthday celebration. I hate that you asked; I would have told you if I was. 

I’ve stopped telling you I miss you. For your benefit and mine. It’s nothing you can do or say to make it better, except for dropping out and coming home. If you say nice things, you make it worse. If you say mean or funny things, you discredit my feelings. When you say you miss me too, I don’t believe you. 

I’m afraid you’re romanticizing me. That you remember my good qualities and not my bad, that you love the idea of me and not me. 

You want me to visit you in December. Again. You sweetly offered to pay for half the ticket. I don’t like taking money from others. I loved visiting, but I don’t want to get used to it or to depend on you so much. I hate what I’ve become since you left. I legitimately just want to scream at myself. Dependent, lazy, sad sack who’s alienated her friends. I feel like I felt on the bad batch of birth control- mood swings, anger and sadness without justification, crying at the drop of a hat, tearing up when watching any kind of romantic couple on television, ugh. I thought I was in a mental health crisis, then, and now I am trying to convince myself that I’m not. Seriously, this is not who I am. I am independent, rational, and smart. I can’t believe a fucking relationship turned me into the type of women I find so weak.

And I don’t care if Bon Iver is cliche. 

i know today’s a full moon and all, but like every patient today was like “DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT SURGERY I’M HAVING?!” when i asked them if they knew why they were here. it’s for your safety, champ, i don’t want the overzealous med students to amputate your elbow when you need a lap chole. yo’ welcome.

people were also either super nice, or totally depressed and anxious. talk about a bipolar unit, yeesh. also: worked with cranky 1 (who took the time to teach me something knew, ask for my help, AND thanked me for the help!!!), cranky 2 (who checked on me and made sure i was doing okay), and cpt. clueless (still clueless)… progress! Smiling like an idiot: 1, being bummed out at work: 0. 

nursing is so damn hilarious/not hilarious all the time. I grabbed a man’s genitals yesterday because a he bled significantly from his nether-regions, and, of course, my automatic is to apply pressure- sorry dude, being sacked is better than bleeding out (not that I would know from experience…!)

of course, patient next to this gentleman is freaking out because I didn’t come back right away and he can’t wants me to finish putting on his socks, RIGHT NOW!!! while dude #1 is bleeding. dude, if the floor is turning red, and it’s not because of you, count your blessings!

i find blogging hard sometimes because i want to present this fabulous person who has a super life and is totally on top of her shit, but that person isn’t me, and it turns into this awful exercise in creative writing (barf). here’s to honesty (and beautiful peonies, my favorite!).

i find blogging hard sometimes because i want to present this fabulous person who has a super life and is totally on top of her shit, but that person isn’t me, and it turns into this awful exercise in creative writing (barf). here’s to honesty (and beautiful peonies, my favorite!).

it would be super great if slippers were socially acceptable footwear outside of the home. i mean, come on, they are koala shaped and match my cardigan, at least i am wearing pants.