My nursing license is not current and it bugs me.
I have a lot on my plate with the kids issues and homeschooling, and no plans to go rushing back into nursing, but I like the security the license gives me. I like knowing if Todd suddenly could not, I could support our family. So, I have finally made up my mind to take the boards again. And who knows? A part-time gig might be nice a little further down the road.
So….recently, I was at a Catholic nursing school, taking an NCLEX review class. It was awesome. Twenty hours of review. That’s a long time to be sitting in an auditorium being tuned in, and I wasn’t bored once. The teacher was so good! It was like watching a gifted musician performing in the zone. Dude was born to teach NCLEX review. I didn’t walk out feeling ready for my boards, but I walked out feeling like I know exactly what to study. It feels good to work my brain that way again.
(If you are interested it was Mark Klimek’s NCLEX review class. Worth every penny. Even if you’re not in Ohio and have to travel).
So, as I said, this is a Catholic nursing school. It was lovely. Stained glass windows flanked each side of the auditorium. The acoustics were good. The seats were comfortable and roomy.
During the 15 minute breaks, there were mad dashes to the rest rooms. There were serious lines, with hundreds of nursing students at the review. I happened to hop on an elevator and find a bathroom on another floor, no line, no waiting. Given my poop-a-phobia, I am an expert at finding secluded bathrooms. Now I’m not saying I pooped there, but had I needed to, I could have. In private.
During the very last break, I was quick out of the auditorium. There were no lines. I decided, just this once, I’d use the bathroom everyone else was using. Walking in, I was first, and made a b-line to a stall. Tinkling, I reflected on my amazing bathroom karma. I had not waited in a line all weekend! Go me!
As I exited the stall, I couldn’t help notice the slant of a male tush sidled up to a urinal. And then another one. What the?
I was in the men’s room.
I broke the first rule of nursing, and hightailed it out of there without washing my hands for fear of seeing something I shouldn’t (I then cut the ladies room line and snuck in to wash them).
Now given all I’ve shared, is it just my potty on the brain, or does the blessed mother in the stained glass look like she’s surrounded by intestines?
All weekend, every time I looked up at that window, I couldn’t help but think it. The blessed mother, praying for positive bowel sounds. Been there. Can’t let your post-op patient go home ’til you hear them.
Maybe I really am a nurse after all.