I’m Even Signing My Checks This Way Now

Just call me Christina, RN.


I passed! The results appeared sometime late this afternoon, and I was surprised to see them so quickly. (But you can bet I checked three times this morning, and six times during the afternoon.) I can officially call myself a registered nurse, and add “RN” after my name, anytime, anywhere.

And no, I can’t tell you what that strange rash on your hand is. Or if I can, I’m probably just looking it up on WebMD.

This also means when I work tomorrow, I can wear the lovely necklace that my incredibly sweet and way-too-thoughtful friend Karen sent me:


Yay!



Wishing For A Cheat Sheet

Early this morning I took what was perhaps the hardest and most frightening test of my life. At 8:00am, I arrived at a plain-looking office building on the other side of Columbus to take the NCLEX, also known as the licensing exam that is the final step to adding those little “RN” initials after my name.

I read through the introductory materials the receptionist handed me, then had my ID checked, was fingerprinted and photographed, stored my purse, contents of my pockets (yes, I had to turn out my pockets) and watch (no watch allowed) in a locker, and stood at the door waiting to take my test. I was then fingerprinted again at the door, had my ID checked again, and was then seated at my computer workstation, where video cameras tracked my every move and microphones recorded every sound. If I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly was after all of that.

Truthfully, I was nervous. Despite studying for it here and there, I felt completely unprepared for this exam. It’s an incredible amount of material to know all at once, and while I had planned out a study schedule over several weeks, life got in the way and very little scheduled studying happened. My hands trembled as I clicked through the tutorial.

For those who aren’t nurses, here’s how the test works: it’s a computerized adaptive test, meaning it changes based on how you answer each question. The first question is a mid-level question in difficulty. If you answer it correctly, it gives you a harder question next; if you miss it, you’ll get an easier or equal difficulty question. It continues to track the level of competency you’re at with each question, until it reaches a point where it is certain, with 95% accuracy, that you are either at a minimum level of competency to be a nurse, or will not reach that level by the end of the test.

There are 265 questions maximum, but the test can shut off anywhere after the minimum of 75 questions. In other words, the test keeps going until it knows for sure if you’re passing or failing. (A few unlucky ones get randomly selected to take the entire test, even if they’ve achieved competency early on, for control purposes.)

From the very beginning, I felt I was in over my head. The questions seemed to pick apart my knowledge and focus on all of my weak points. Medications I didn’t know appeared before me, with no hints as to what the med was for. I was asked several questions where I had to choose the patient I would assign highest priority to, when each answer seemed just as high a priority as the next.

And I had several of the “alternate style questions” – essentially questions that aren’t your typical multiple choice, choose one answer type – and several of those were the “choose all that apply” questions. I hate those questions. If you miss one of the correct answers, you miss the entire question.

Where are the medication math questions? I wondered. I’m really good at math! As the question numbers gradually creeped up, I started to panic, realizing I was answering without being sure on more questions than I felt comfortable with. I got closer to the magic #75, and I silently tried to will the computer to keep giving me more questions so I had a better chance to show my competency. I know I can prove I’m a good nurse, just let me keep answering questions and get to the ones I really know!

Then it happened. I answered question #75, and the screen blinked and turned blue. After a few seconds of wondering if I somehow summoned the Blue Screen of Death, the grey background appeared again, with the words, “Congratulations! You’ve finished the NCLEX!”

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I sat there unsure of what to do next. There’s no way I did well enough to warrant the shut-off at 75 questions. But I also couldn’t face the possibility that I bombed the test so badly that it determined me a complete failure at only 75 questions. The trembling in my hands appeared again as I answered the demographic exit survey questions and meekly raised my hand to call the testing assistant into the room to let me leave. I felt sick as I gathered up my belonging and walked to my car.

Just to add to the suspense, I won’t know my results for a day or two. So instead I sit here and replay the test in my head, wondering if I will keep my job if I failed. If I do fail, I can retake the test in 45 days, but they might not want to wait that long for me.

I’m normally a fairly laid-back person. But I’m a nervous wreck right now. The Board of Nursing should run ads on their license check web page – they’d be making a fortune from my refresh rate right now.



The End of the Week Comes So Quickly Now

(Looking for Haiku Friday? Go visit Janny – she’s hosting this week’s Haiku Friday for me. And I’ll have a long-term solution for my Haiku Friday hiatus set up by next week.)

Wanna know what it’s like to go two years working part-time from home, then suddenly go back to work full-time, pulling 12 hr shifts that are really 12.5 hrs, which is really 14.5 hrs when you add in the commute both ways?

It’s pretty friggin’ hard.

I’m exhausted. Completely exhausted. I come home each night, intending to warmly reunite with my laptop and type out a thought-provoking post. Or at least throw out a cute photo of one of my kids.

But instead I come home each night, walking gently on my sore feet, read through my e-mail, try to reply to a few of them, check Twitter to lurk on any conversations going on, and then go to bed. On my days off, I want to sleep in. I feel foggy headed all day. My daughters climb all over me, but I don’t have the energy to wrestle with them.

I know this is not permanent. Not only do I have a new job, but I’m also trying to learn an incredible amount of information in a short period of time. Unlike some jobs, the learning curve is high in nursing and mistakes can cost lives. (Or in the world of medical paperwork, mistakes can cost the hospital a payment, which is nearly as bad as costing lives sometimes.)

Or maybe I’m just reacting to a week where we’ve had patient after patient appearing at the doors. That whole full moon and laboring women superstition? It’s all true. And then they turn into werewolves.

Either way, I think I’ll be back to my normal routine in a few weeks. Which means that I picked a lousy time to start a new job, considering I’m one of several local mom bloggers featured in Columbus Monthly magazine for August. (On newsstands now, locals! Go buy your copy!)

If you’re new here, don’t judge me by August. I promise I’m more interesting than this.



The Fork in the Road

So aside from going to BlogHer (which I do plan to get back to talking about soon), life has been more than a little crazy for me.

Right before BlogHer, I was offered the job I was hoping for. I’ll be an RN in a labor & delivery unit at a small hospital in the greater Columbus area. I started the job on Tuesday, and while I’ll be working night shift eventually, I’m on day shift during my training. The pay isn’t as high as it is in the larger hospitals, but the atmosphere of this unit really called to me. OK, and the fact that they were the only ones to offer me a job. That helped, too.

I still have to pass my license exam, too. That’s coming up August 17. So forgive me if you ask me a question and I rattle off, “Normal potassium levels are 3.5-5.0” to you. I’m only a little frazzled.

The schedule is an adjustment for me. It’s been two years since I held a job I could explain to people in only one sentence. (So yeah, I work as a blogger. It’s essentially a freelance writer, and I work from home and set my own hours and yeah, it’s a real job. Well, sorta. It sometimes pays, but sometimes it’s only from ad revenue. What’s ad revenue? Well…) Working for 12 hours straight takes some getting used to, although that single-sentence description is quite nice.

And it’s the first time that I’m spending a significant amount of time away from Mira. I quit my part-time job when she was born, not only for nursing school but to be with her, too. We had to put Cordy in full-time daycare at three months old, and I hated myself for those seven long months she was there. I felt like I missed seeing her grow during that time, and I vowed to never do it again. I got to spend all that time with Mira, however. And now she’s two, begging to go to her summer camp five days a week. She’s ready to venture out into the social world of preschoolers, and she doesn’t need me as much. Which means I need to accept that and find a way to not need her as much, either.

That’s not all the change that happened this week, though! Nooooo, not for Aaron and I – when it rains it freaking pours and hails and produces hurricane force winds here. For not only was I offered a job, but then a few days later, Aaron was offered a job! Hallelujah and rainbows and smiling babies!

Aaron’s job offer was for an office job on the opposite side of Columbus from us. At first we were giddy with excitement – new job! They’d let him dress casual! We’d finally have a stable, steady double income! The pay isn’t the best, but money is better than unemployment, right?

But wait – there’s more! Then Aaron got an interview with a company to do freelance work! Much higher pay, too! At the interview, they really seemed to like him, and it’s very possible he’ll be offered a chance to do projects on a semi-regular basis with them.

Months of no job, and now suddenly job prospects everywhere. I’ve been waiting for change for a long, long time, and as you know this past year was a special kind of hell. Now that we’ve got our change, though, why do I find myself screaming, “Whoa! Too fast! Slow it down! I CAN’T HANDLE ALL THIS CHANGE!”

So we’re now trying to process everything. That first offer for a job for Aaron has some trade-offs we’re just now realizing. The hours would require a babysitter, and that sitter would need to work weird, sporadic times and need to transport the girls to their various therapies and activities. The cost for a sitter, along with gas for the 45 min. commute, would eat up much of Aaron’s salary. Plus it’s a 45 min. commute each way. Suddenly the giddyness is wearing off.

But the other position isn’t a sure thing yet. And if it does become a sure thing, it’s only freelance work – no amount of hours are guaranteed – making it not really a sure thing. But it would pay more, so we could budget appropriately for the lean times. Assuming he’s offered the position, of course. Aaron would also be home with the kids if he took this option, making sure they get to therapies and school and whatever they may need.

If. Assuming. Possibly. The control freak in me is going crazy with the lack of certainty right now.

We have to make a choice now about which road to take. The riskier choice, which still has one parent home at all times, but no guarantees on any money greater than my salary (which is enough to cover bills and necessary items), or the stable choice, which could still result in no more money than my salary, plus needing a sitter, but a stable job with some chance for advancement and more money.

Have I mentioned I’m lousy at making decisions? I can’t even pick the fastest checkout lane at the grocery correctly – how can I participate in making a life-altering decision like this?

Someone tap me on the shoulder after all of these changes pass so I can pull my head out of the sand, will ya?



Roller Coaster of Life

It’s been such a busy 36 hours here, full of ups and downs and uncertainties. I’ve barely had time to sit down long enough to process it all.

The good:
Remember that job I applied for in a local small hospital? I got it! I’ll be working in the Birth Center as a labor/delivery/postpartum nurse. I’m thrilled to be starting my nursing career in a specialty I’m interested in, and the smaller hospital size may work to my favor.

The bad:
It’ll be a long commute – over 45 minutes. And I was a little surprised to realize that the starting pay is equal to what I used to make as a technical writer five years ago. Ah well, it’ll be worth it to be working with mamas and babies.

The good:
After Mira’s well-child check when she turned two, we were told to schedule an appt. with Children’s Hospital for a speech evaluation. Mira had an evaluation with Help Me Grow last fall, but her pediatrician wanted to see a more aggressive therapy schedule. After waiting over a month, we got an appointment and Mira spent the morning with the speech pathologist today. She was amazed that Mira can speak in full 3-4 word sentences. We heard the word “gifted” again.

The bad:
Although she can speak in 3-4 word sentences, good luck trying to figure out what those words are. Mira is a smart little kid, but she was diagnosed with apraxia of speech. It means that somewhere between her brain and the muscles in her mouth, the message is getting garbled, resulting in poor muscle coordination with her mouth.

It’s nothing that therapy can’t fix, although I’m not looking forward to the fight we’ll have trying to convince the World’s Most Stubborn Toddler to cooperate in even more speech therapy.

The not-so-good:
Cordy’s had a rough week or so. She’s been extremely uncooperative, rude and had several outbursts when frustrated. The culmination was at summer camp today, when she freaked out at swimming time, refusing to go into the water, pinching another child, and then when she had a full-out meltdown, she kicked her teacher and then lost control of her bladder, peeing on her teacher. Not her best day.

The uncertain:
Tomorrow Cordy goes in for surgery. It’ll be early in the day, and as long as the hospital has wireless I’ll probably be tweeting to keep from going insane from worry. I’m sure her tooth has been hurting her – maybe it was the reason she’s been acting out so much? – but the thought of my little girl undergoing general anesthesia is hard to bear. Cordy often has strange reactions to medications, and I don’t know which way she’ll react to what they give her.

I’ve had nightmares for days about something going wrong, then waking up in a full panic attack, trying to stop the tears. Were this Mira, I would not be as worried. Don’t get me wrong – I love Mira just as much, but she’s an amazingly tough kid. She’s never seemed as medically fragile as Cordy. Ha, I can’t believe I just called Cordy fragile. My Amazon warrior princess?

So spare a thought for Cordy in the morning, and hopefully I’ll be reporting that her surgery was quick, routine, and we’ll be home in time for her to watch Word World.

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