11 November 2010

Almost 3-0

So, it's apparently been a gazillion years since I've updated this blog.

Not really. Just four weeks. But when you're in nursing school, it feels like a gazillion years.

Full-time school will do that to you. That, and the fact I turn the big 3-0 in two weeks.

Spousal texts, dated 11-1-10:
Me: Happy birthday month to meeeeeee!!! (I like to celebrate all month long. It's tradition.)
M: Happy 30TH birthday month to uuuuuuuuu!!! hahahahahahahahahaha.
Me: Oh snap, JERK!!!
M: Muhahahahahahaha

I guess I deserve it. I made a huge deal over him turning 30 (a-hem, a couple years ago), and I was super-sweet, reminding him that he was married to a 20-something. And that I was still in my twenties. And the twenties are awesome.

Love.

Anyway, a lot has happened in the past month. I'm sure you all know by now (if you follow me on Facebook) that I'm going to be an Auntie in April! Or March. Or whenever my sister decides to push that kiddo out. She and Cole came to visit during my fall break in October, and we had a great time catching up on everything. And buying nursing tank-tops. And stretchy maternity pants that look like they would be really comfortable for the days I have 8 hours of lecture.

This is us at Eckert's, a really fun pumpkin farm/apple orchard place.

And yes. We like to wear plaid and be farmy once in awhile.


The happy parents-to-be.
 

This is the picture that made me do several things:
1. Wonder who in their right mind made plaid popular again.
2. Wish I wouldn't have given away my entire plaid 8th grade wardrobe.
3. Color my hair back to it's original shade. Maybe it's just the pumpkin, but my hair has an orangish tint. Ew.
4. Go back on Weight Watchers. Maybe it's just the pumpkin, but man, my cheeks are just as round as it is.

While Erin was home, we had a fun girl's shopping day with mom. And guess what? Remember my post about a month ago about new running shoes? Mom surprised me with them as an early birthday present! See, blogging really does make a difference in the world. :) And due to those shoes, I came in 3rd in my age group in the Sullivan 5K last weekend.

And yes. There were more than three people in my age group.

I have another 5K tomorrow night, and I'm a little nervous over a sudden shin splint that developed seemingly overnight. It hurts. I keep telling myself that I'll just walk this 5K, but I know me. When I get to the starting line I get all competitive on myself. I can't stop running. I know that if I do, I'll feel really guilty and weak at the finish line. Thoughts will go through my head like, "It's only 3 miles! Why did you stop and walk? It's ONLY 3 MILES!! You're weak! Keep running!"

And now you've just experienced a psychotic episode by Addie.

In other news, I started my pediatric clinicals at the end of October, and have discovered that I have the incredible ability to make a child cry just by walking in the room. What is it with me and kids? We just don't seem to mesh very well.

But I know that it's not fun for a kid to be in the hospital, and just being in that bed surrounded by beeping machines and anxiety-filled parents would make anyone cranky. I try to get them to smile during a procedure. During vital signs. When the Wiggles are on TV (they freak me out too. I can't blame the kid for crying at that one.). This rotation has definitely gotten me out of my comfort zone - I'm not the best at holding babies anyway, and add what seems like a hundred tubes and wires coming out of them and you get an Addie that's about ready to hyperventilate.

I think the thing that is my biggest challenge is the fact that they are babies. With adults, you can explain the procedure and why you're doing what you're doing. With babies and little kids, all they see is you coming at them with a weird thing around your neck and a cold disk you place on their chest. And then you stare at them for a full minute while you try to count their heart rate - not easy on babies who's hearts beat like butterfly wings.

And another confession: I LOVE, absolutely LOVE, my psych rotation. I love all of my unpredictable, absolutely fascinating schizophrenic patients. I want to put them all in my pocket and bring them home with me. I never in a million years would have thought that I would have become attached to psychiatric nursing, but I love it. Maybe it's because I can relate (see psychotic episode above for reference). Is it bad that I can totally follow a schizophrenic's train of thought? I can honestly see how they can make their connections from one random thought to another very easily. They are so sincere about it, and it makes me want to be their advocate, to protect them from people who laugh. Who don't understand. Who think they can't be helped. Who think they are a waste and a drain on society. 

The people who point and laugh and have no compassion are the people with the real problem, if you want my honest opinion. These patients are amazing. They have so much to share and give, if only the world would give them a chance.

Career choice? Possibly.

Speaking of choices, I put my request in for my comprehensive clinicals in the spring. My name is in for the VA hospital (working with veterans who deserve the best care possible, with a little mix of geriatrics and psych thrown in), and for Med/Surg which will give me the chance to work with geriatrics/oncology. 

I want to be EVERYTHING! 

What I don't want to be is 30. Yet. Give me a couple more years, and then maybe I'll be ready. Maybe.

Today I love: An entire day off from class.
Today I don't love: Spending an entire day off from class studying for Monday's test.