Stephanie Thorvalson, RN: Now What?

Patience is a virtue I do not possess, folks. I know, I know. It's been eleven days since I passed boards, and not that I expected a job to land in my lap instantaneously, but... come on! Eleven days is a blink of an eye, I realize, but considering it's been over a month already since I graduated, this down time is really starting to wear on me. I'm doing my best to enjoy the time, have bonded exceedingly with my books of crosswords and sudoku, and have been able to sleep in more over the last month than in the last two years. But I'm starting to get freaking BORED here! Reading my nursing journals and catching up on what's going on out there via nursing blogs is only whetting my appetite, contributing to my overall anxiousness to just get out there and start. doing. it. This one, Nurse Me, is the worst. Reading all of these ER stories is just torture. I wanna jump on the bed and do compressions! I wanna push the atropine! Come on! Pick me! Pick me! Ooh! Ooh!

Hasn't anyone decided, as a New Year's Resolution, to go ahead and retire anyway, despite the economy?

Won't somebody give a nurse's husband their job back so the nurse can cut back to PT and open a spot for me?

Please?

Thanks for considering it.

"Gopher: First thing to be done is to get rid of that bear. He's gumming up the whole project. Owl: Dash it all, he IS the project!"

Don't think of an elephant.

Hard, isn't it, now that the task has been put to you. Thus, my dilemma. The minute I tell myself to do something in particular, or not to do something in particular, the immediate response of my brain is to pose alllll the reasons why I should do (or not) the precise opposite. Specifically, the moment I say I'm going to be strong and stick to my guns, the guns melt and vanish into vapor. And here I am, empty-handed, asking myself, "Now what?"

(“Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it.”)

Answer? Friends, family, perhaps. People who will help me to stay on the right track. People who know me well enough to remind me of what my ultimate goals are when they seem so out of reach, or when I'm soooo tempted to slap a band-aid on a gushing head wound simply because the head is oh so lovely and I like to be helpful with the gushing and all and what? No band-aids available? That's okay! I'll just tear my clothes off and rip my t-shirt into strips! There! What? I'm naked? And it's January? But, look! The gushing! It stopped! Well, it... slowed... Oh, dear... And I'm naked... Damn, it's cold out here... AND WHY WON'T YOU SUPPORT ME ON THIS?!!!

("Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?")

Or here's another possible answer: ABCs. Airway, Breathing, Circulation. Airway comes first. Done! I've got one of those. Then Breathing. Okay, let's work on that one... THEN cardiac. Therein lies my problem. Always wanting to put the cardiac ahead of the stopping to breathe.

(Eeyore was saying to himself, "This writing business. Pencils and what-not. Over-rated, if you ask me. Silly stuff. Nothing in it.")

It's too quiet around here.

And Maddie and I have been reading Winnie the Pooh.

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."

It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal.

(Ed. note: All quotes by A.A. Milne.)

I still get by.

What is, What Ought to be

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the bands which have connected her with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitles her, a decent respect to the opinion of that certain other requires that she should declare the causes which impel her to the separation.

I hold these truths to be self-evident, that all people are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

***

Forgive the lofty language, but I happen to be watching a documentary on Thomas Jefferson while concurrently contemplating yet another dissolution in a long line of dissolutions, partial and/or complete, in my most recent relationship as well as those dating back to the distant past. Hearing these words (edited just a bit for my purposes), I was really struck by how they apply to relationships, and to the dissolution of them.

Is it a coincidence that the above words, which I heartily agree with and which define me as an American, are the same words that make me an independent woman in terms of my relationships with men? Ignoring the irony of Jefferson's original words - the fact that these rights are mutually exclusive, quite possibly unattainable, and only guaranteed in his day to white, land-owning males over the age of 18 - and assuming it's true that these sentiments are to apply to the individual as well as to the many, is it too much to ask that these rights be applied to my personal relationships, 234 years later?

I don't think so.

Carry on, then.

"If it's a temporary lull/Why am I bored right outta my skull..."

First, the good news: I survived my graduation party with no injuries to report, have since been to Florida and back, rinsed off my midwinter blues in the Gulf of Mexico, and developed a new sudoku addiction. In lieu of nursing texts, my nightstand is now stocked with candles, nicotine gum, and a book of crosswords. My sister gave birth to a healthy baby girl on the 7th and is healing and bonding as much as can be expected for a mom with a toddler in the house. On the other hand, my grandparents were in a car accident last week, which resulted in a temporary move to Rockford for the two of them, my grandfather at my mom's house and my grandmother trying to figure out how to feed herself with two broken arms in rehab. Could've been worse, and I'm grateful they're doing as well as they are, but I'm a bit worried about the strain it's putting on my mom. A weekend in Rockford turned out better than expected, but I'm sure I'll be going back again this coming weekend to hopefully ease the transition of my grandmother's potential discharge to my mom and stepdad's home. We're lucky to have each other, all of us, but I'm pretty sure that moving in with their daughter and son-in-law was not on my grandparents' To Do list for 2010. Meanwhile, the house in Paw Paw sits, empty of people, full of 60 years' worth of paperwork, memories, projects, and various debris my Depression-era grandfather can't seem to part ways with. It's a reminder of what's important, what isn't, and of how transient and temporary these little boxes we build to house our lives in really are, despite our best efforts to create a feeling of safety and permanence for our children, our children's children, and the ones who follow after that. When all was said and done, my own father's home is currently already on the market again, the owners who came after us unable to cover the mortgage, let alone properly nurture the earth, waters, and wood my father spent 30+ years cultivating. To everything (turn turn turn)...

In the meantime (ha!), my NCLEX date has been set for this Wednesday, offering a healthy dose of pre-test jitters mixed with an "Oh christcanwegetthisoverwithalready" semi-release. The feeling of accomplishment that came with graduation, the ability to officially call myself a nurse was quickly dampened by the realization that I'm not a nurse, not really, until the boards are behind me and I have a freaking job. Estimated applications filled number somewhere between 30 and 50, yet my phone and email remain eerily quiet. Assurances from friends in the field that I'll get an interview as soon as the initials "RN" are added to my appellation are appreciated, although they do little to pay the bills or alleviate the cabin fever I've developed. It's pretty sad, getting excited at the prospect of emptying my grandmother's leg bag, just to have an opportunity to exercise skills I feel are all too quickly slipping away, skills that were taught to me by a woman who passed away two weeks ago, too young, too soon.

So in short, this particular January has forced me to close my doors, but I'm not braced so firmly as to not crack open a window.