Just Keep it Pushing, SKC

I sometimes felt I have created my own time wrap. Today was the first day of my second semester, two more semesters to go and then graduation for my Master’s Degree in Nursing, and this journey has been hard as hell.
 
I was thrilled walking into my Monday class, I have only one for this semester, this is the class that mental quipped you to proceed you in the cornerstone of your major, to me, it is a remedial course.  
 
The classroom was extremely limited in student’s attendance. Most students preferred to opt out the first week. However, there were several students, and to add to my dismay, some of these students were much younger than me.  
 
I just celebrated my twenty-eight birthday on February 5, and I felt out of place, in addition, I am the only brown bean in the pot.  
 
The sheer look of young exuberance, and the eagerness to further there yearns of being a Nurse Practitioner displayed in their youthfulness.  
 
I arrived, tired and somewhat late from maintaining a gregarious nursing staff and listening to several demanding and self-absorbed physicians. My mind was not quite prepared to read a class syllabus. I was still weary from Chicago back to New York jetlag and a lack of proper sleep.  
 
As higher learning students, we all came together upon the class introductions to assist each other in doing what needs be done to obtain our Master’s Degree in Nursing. Such kindness, and compassion, and the need to reach out to me exceeded my expectations. When you are a nurse, you do not practice disparity built on race, genders, religion, or ethnicities; for me, the only need is to heal broken souls or extend my heart, humblest condolences to the families when some souls are beyond the mend to repair.  
  
This is the first time I really glanced around and had to summon the fact, by June, I will be graduating after years of studying, quizzes, tests, and digging deeper in my pocket for tuition and books.  
 
Then the doubts zoomed in. Am I really ready to stand in the role as Nurse Practitioner (APRN), I realized after I complete my internship, and over five hundred hours of supervised clinical training, and then a board certification examination, once employed, I will be prescribing medication for people who are diagnosed with Mental Disorders, will I be professionally equipped, what role as a caregiver will I be?  
 
The dream sounded so grand when I was in my first year, who knows what tomorrow brings, you know how you just go through the motions, one day at a time and if you make yippy and if you do not it was not from a lack of eve trying, meaning time waits for no one, my time is winding down, and I feel so helpless and small knowing instead of me overseeing physicians, I am one step of joining the ranks, well as Nurse Practitioner ( APRN).  
 
How am I going to listen to someone who has mental illness, when I have my own mundane challenges, will I know how to separate theirs from mine and play the role as the practitioner, and not some mother hen, who is not even a mother, at the moment.  
 
Just when I was out of ideas and out of patience with myself. My professor advised us all, we will be assigned our own preceptor next Monday, and I will be working closely with him/her in my field of major.  
 
Now my palms were beginning to sweat, you would think I am used to it, I have been in the medical field for years, until now, I always had people above my profession status making choices for the greater good.  
 
Being a Nursing Director does not relive the foreboding, that uncertain feeling if I am biting off more than I can chew, due in part, the physicians and my nursing staff makes my look good in the eyes of being proficient in my daily supervising duties.  
 
Oh, this feels so much like when I am running a twenty-six marathon and that last mile. you psychologically begin to feel the uric acid burning in your knees, the sensitive blisters to your feet, needing watering, when you are well hydrated and you just want to stop, and reason with yourself, at least I ran that is the closet analogy I can compare it to, that same feeling is how I felt today.  
 
The students who were there including myself, received three case files, which I am familiar to from my first year, but it is much different, I must dictate my own mental diagnosis, and a form of plan. It is a classroom study assignment to see how we will be paired with our preceptors how absurd is that.  
 
The only reason I continue on is I get to see my ninety-six year old grann in June and it has been years since I visited Haiti to wrap my arms arounf her and to thank her for all her support, and financial contributions knowing, I have myself.  
 
 
SKC, BSN, DON