Nursing School Chronicles - Survivor's Guilt

It has been a long minute since I have posted a Nursing School Chronicle.

I can say with all sincerity that this will be my hardest one. 

Let me recap.  We were in Med Surg.  The most dreaded, feared, warned about class to fear ever.  Things were difficult.  Things were hard.  And that was expected.  And planned.  Jobs were quit.  Children and Husbands/Wives were neglected.  Lives were placed on hold and uprooted for this one class. 

Nursing School.  Sometimes it feels like living on an island.  And on this island is a tribe.  And you want ....no.... need to be part of that tribe.  Because being part of that tribe ensures that you can always take care of your family, that you can make a difference in your community, and that your work would be pleasing to the eye of your God.  But there are sacrifices, initiations, and other tribe members that are not so sure they want you there for what ever their reasons might be.  Med Surg is like the initiation where you walk across the fire with barefeet, you aren't allowed to sleep, you get the tattoo and then the fire-y brand across your back.  Med Surg is where you lose your friends...who have become your family....who you have seen more than your family.....to the traps and the pitfalls that lay ahead.  And the traps and pitfalls that were laying in your path don't care who you are or what a wonderful person you can and will be.  And you press forward praying that those behind will forge on and never give up.

I was embarassed to post this.  But I have to tell you the truth.  I have to tell you what happened.  We failed.  Me.  Shorty.  Barbara. Sholana.  We all failed Med Surg.  BUT please believe me when I tell you.  I would not tell you this only to whine.  It was not fair.  There were miscommunications between the teachers who taught the class.  There was a test that I feel sure was graded incorrectly.  Tutoring was scheduled during our clinicals.  If you miss clinicals you failed.  The class wasn't passable.  There were 20 students in our class.  At the end there were 4.  Three people only passed because one teacher was giving higher grades on an essay while the other gave 80s across the board.  No matter the content.  It was a gamble that 3 people won.  The one girl I don't expect she will ever fail and I am happy for her and proud of her.  But even she passed with a grade much less then what she was accustomed to achieving. 

There was a protest.  Of the day classes.  OF the night classes.  REmediation was offered. This was the 2nd or 3rd time people were offered remediation for this class taught by the same teachers.  Go figure.  I completely understand that people will be lost in Med Surg.  But not like this.

Remediation was granted.  I was glad for that.  I did not at all believe that my grade represented my body of work. 

But remediation was not an easy way.  We had to go to remediation 2 - 5pm  everyday this week as well as take our Acute Care class, one quiz, one test.  4 tests for remediation on the whole class.

I pulled it out.  I survived.  I got an 82, 84, 93.7, and an 87.  But I do not believe it was because I am any more smarter, better, more dedicated than any one else.  I just gambled better.  That is it.  Simply put.  I did not do anymore than anyone else.

I will try to continue this without weeping on my key board and shorting it out.

I made it through.  Shorty made it through.  Barbara and Sholana.  They did not.

AND it hurts so bad.  And this is why.....

Last week the company I work for lost a third of it's business.  This week they are looking to cut costs in anyway they can.  I am feeling the effects of this.  On Monday.....I thought I would break down during work.  Who was there for me.  Barbara and Sholana.  I am at work breaking down in my cube.  Barbara calls.  Gives me support.  Tells me to get it together.  Tells me she believes in me.  And I get it together and I believe again.  I get to class and I am about to fall apart again.  Just before the test.  Realllllly bad timing to fall apart.  All I can think about it how much of a failure I am and have become.  Sholana.  She takes a minute.  Reminds me that everything will be ok (with the special Starburst candy......wink, wink Sholana)  That I have got it in me.  I was not strong enough to make it through.  They gave me the strength to make it through.  They are not going through with me.  They deserve to be here.  I do not deserve to be here.  They missed it by fractions of a point.  I would not be here were it not for them.  They are my heart.  They are my sisters. They are my family.  And I have to go on without them.  And I will do it.  Because of them.  With even more resolve than before.  Because I must.  Because they made it possible for me.  I cannot let them down. 

A good friend of mine says often...."I knew the job was dangerous when I took it."  And I did know.  And I didn't know.  I ought to know and I will know even more as time goes on.

I would like to thank you all.  One day....if it is in God's will....I will be a nurse.  I know who helped me get there.  Sholana and Barbara.  My patients.  The Snarkalastra.  My sister.  My very dear Gather-y friends.  This term has been rough.  We have given up a lot.  We have sacrificed so much.  We gambled with our lives.  I don't have much.  But I have got you.  And having that.....surely must have pushed me through.  This girl from the other side of the tracks might actually jump the tracks and beat the train.....because she had good people behind her....pushing her through. 

Sholana and Barbara.  If nothing else changes.....I will see you in Psych.  I love you both so much.  Me and Shorty will make you proud.