I remember my pinning ceremony. A lot of time and hard work had finally paid off and I accomplished something. There were many times throughout nursing school that I didn’t think I would make it. There were times when I second-guessed myself if I even wanted to be a nurse. Learning everything about the body, diseases and medicines was sometimes too much. I remember my instructors always reminding us all about the responsibilities of being a nurse, morally, ethically, and legally. It is a lot.
Still, at my pinning ceremony, it was more about the accomplishment of finally passing and celebrating the moment. Then, it was time to find a job. I felt so professional and grownup going to interviews and filing out applications. Yes, it was stressful but also exciting. I felt like my life was fixing to finally begin. And when I got my first offer (which I took) for a position on a Med/Surg and Oncology unit, I jumped.
My mother had just died a few years before with colon cancer. She lived about 2 ½ years after her initial diagnosis. She had surgery and did chemo. It was a huge learning experience. One that would help me in my new and first position as a nurse. With my recent experience with my mother, I honestly didn’t want to pick Oncology, but I figured it picked me. I figured it was the universe’s way of helping me deal with my mother’s diagnosis, disease process and death.
I remember my first ever preceptor: Dorothy. She was terrific. I am so glad I had a great first preceptor. However, I do remember leaving after that first day and feeling so overwhelmed. I was terrified and not really excited at all. Plus, I knew I had just barely touched the tip of the iceberg of information that was my responsibility to learn on that first day. There was so much pressure!!! My mind was going a million miles an hour and I remember being so mad that my instructors didn’t prepare me for what I was feeling. I had never truly understood the whole picture of being a nurse and I had only worked one full 12-hour shift!! Imagine was I would feel like after a week!!! A month!!!
The first step was simply learning where everything was located on the floor. Then, you had to remember every damn different code for every damn different door. I have always thought having different codes to get into different doors on the same unit is just dumb. The second step is getting the plan for your assignment. Which rooms? Where are they? Who is in each? What are they here for? The family in 523 is a dick, great! I remember feeling lost just trying to clock in. You could only clock in 8 minutes prior to the start of your shift, they wouldn’t accept you to clock in sooner due to overtime restrictions. I remember getting to work 15 minutes early, standing by that damn timeclock waiting for the acceptable time to scan my stupid badge. I just wanted to get to work!!! (only at work am I 15 minutes early, everywhere else in my life, I could give a shit).
Next is each patient’s MAR and scanning into the Pyxis and dealing with the pharmacy to get the meds that aren’t in the Pyxis. I had to look up the extensions for every unit, pharmacy, and the lab. These are things I never dealt with in clinical. I might have watched a nurse do it but never did it myself. Even if I did, if I stumbled or didn’t know what to do, the nurse took over. But now I am that nurse!! I can’t pass the buck!! HOLY SHIT. It was at about that moment that I realized everything in clinical that I observed or minimally assisted with was all now on me. Me alone and I had to remember all this crap!! I just spent 2 years in a nursing program trying to learn everything about a person’s body, meds and labs and disease processes!!!! WTF?!?!
My first 6 months were very difficult. There were days I was lost my entire shift. There were days when I didn’t know what med I was giving a patient. I know my charting was the longest in nursing history (other nurses complained about my excessive charting). I got yelled at, intimidated, initiated, hung up on and peed on. Probably puked on too, I cannot remember now. It was hell on earth and almost every night when I tried to sleep, I had the most horrible nightmares where I constantly woke up in the middle of the night to what I thought was a beeping IV. During that 6 months or so, I was still trying to find comfortable shoes and figure out how to wear my hair. Having good shoes and a hairstyle that works for you an entire 12-hour shift is one of the most simplistic yet important things to accomplish. It took me those 6 months to barely get into a rhythm of any sort of routine. My mind was constantly reviewing the Rolodex of info I learned in nursing school while trying to update it at the same time with info I was learning every hour while at work.
I do remember about 6 months in, my charge nurse looked at me and told me I was going to make it. It was after some disastrous code or incident with a very sick patient. I didn’t fall apart, I fumbled around, but didn’t stop trying. Whatever it was it finally got a positive response out of someone who had been a nurse for some time. It felt good. I felt like I had passed some sort of test. It gave me a confidence that I had never felt before.
The next day, my charge nurse called me a pussy after I couldn’t start an IV on a patient. Vicious cycle…
