OUR FIRST DAY OF NURSING SCHOOL

As soon as my eyes opened that morning, I remembered what day it was.  My feet hit the floor and immediately, a swarm of butterflies began break dancing in my tummy.  I kid you not.  That’s exactly what it felt like.  There was no time to think about that, though.  It was time to start what would be my normal weekday routine for the next nine months.

B and I roused all the various children, got them washed, brushed, dressed, fed and ready for the school bus.  We both felt slightly queasy and said silent prayers that we wouldn’t upchuck in public, surrounded by strangers.

We dressed in our finest welfare attire – our least tattered jeans and cleanest tee shirts – and made ourselves as presentable as we could.  After we saw the kids off, we hopped in my old beat-up, broken-down red Honda and headed off to school ourselves.  We had no idea what to expect, and were both still bundles of nerves.

We walked into our classroom, sat down next to each other, and began to look around as others entered the room.  Hey, what’s going on here?  Some of these folks look like teenagers.  Well, that’s because they were.  This school had an arrangement with the area high schools whereby students could enter the LPN program in their junior year, and by the time their high school graduation rolled around two years later, they would also have their LPN diplomas.  What a deal!  Personally, I could not imagine taking on that kind of responsibility when I was 16 or 17 years old.  Hell, I was having trouble taking on that kind of responsibility NOW!

As B and I sat there and watched more students file into the room, I found myself just praying that I wouldn’t be the oldest relic in the class.  “Please, God, let a few senior citizens wander in.”  At last, a few geezer types answered my prayer, along with some 20- and 30-something types.  Another silent prayer - “Thank you, God!”

After a few minutes, Mrs. B-1 (soon-to-be our favorite instructor) entered the room.  She was very professional and business-like and proceeded to tell us how things were going to be.  We would attend classes for four hours each weekday afternoon.  Mrs. B-1 would teach for two hours, and then Mrs. B-2 would teach the other two hours.

We would have a quiz from at least one instructor each day, but more likely from both of them ... IN THE SAME DAY!  We would be expected to come to class prepared to know the material from the previous day.  We were permitted a specific number of absences each school year, and were expected to schedule any necessary appointments around class time.  Excessive absenteeism could equal being dropped from the program.

We would conduct ourselves as adults and professionals.  From this day forward, nursing school was our job and we would show the students in the other programs that we were involved in SOME SERIOUS SHIT HERE!  Okay, maybe that’s not exactly what Mrs. B-1 said, but that’s pretty much what she meant.  Geez Louise, these people were NOT messing around.

We would elect class officers.  We would get a short break midway through class every day.  We were to take care of any hunger issues and bathroom requirements during that break, but we were NOT to leave the building.  (Ruh roh – no smoke break, huh?)

Our first-year clinicals would begin during the spring quarter, each Thursday at one of the local nursing homes.  Our second-year clinicals would begin in the first quarter, each Friday at one of the local hospitals.  Clinical hours were 7 AM until 3:30 PM, just like real nurses.  We would each be assigned a patient and were responsible for that person’s care during the entire shift.  We would make our own transportation arrangements.

Just about that time, I began to ask myself why I hadn’t signed up for the computer science program.

Enter Mrs. B-2!  Right from the get-go, we learned that she loved to talk about her nursing and personal experiences.  She seemed to have a more laid-back attitude than Mrs. B-1, which was a huge relief that day, but we would soon tire of her rambling, abstract approach to teaching in the days and weeks to come.

Finally, blessedly, CLASS DISMISSED!  B and I were exhausted – so much information swirling around in our teeny-tiny brains.  Little did we know.  Seriously!  We didn’t have a clue.  As we headed to the car and made the 15-minute drive home, we had little to say.

This was to be our life for the next two years.  Were we really ready for this?  Too late now.  Neither of us wanted to be the first to admit that we had doubts.

Next up:  Our second day of class