Thursday, June 01, 2006

Thank the Lord, again.

Once upon a time I was going to be a nurse. Fortunately for me, someone was guiding me in another direction, although I didn't realize it at the time. The signs were there... but I didn't think of them of signs at the time.... or perhaps I read too much into the instances that occured to help cement the decision to NOT continue with post secondary education, at least not in the nursing field.

There are a couple of instances that come to mind....

My art teacher asked me what art school I was going to, because I would have gotten some scholarship award. ( I wasn't going to art school, and besides I saw many great artists emerging from our class). Hmmmmm.

I took a bunch of "junk" courses (including algebra twice) and of course art in high school... so I had to go back to night school to get my pre-req's for the "nursing school" that I was planning on attending.....

Like the fact that I repeatedly enrolled myself into Algebra 11. I believe I was on my fifth kick of the cat of Algebra, when one night we were writing our final exam... and there was a massive snowstorm. WE had three hours to write the exam, and all I could think about was how was I going to make it home alive, and conquer all the hills in between the school and home. After about an hour into the exam, and another two inches of snow, I called it quits. I told him I didn't think I had had much success with this exam, so it's best to go home and cry now, before I crash, then I would really have to cry.

Then there was the occasion that the stalker sister-that-hadn't-turned-stalker-yet and I were completing our Biology 12 in the same night school class. Things were hustling along quite nicely. The lovely and crazy biology teacher separated everybody in the class, so that not one person could see another person's paper. He even double checked as he wondered through the class. To his satisfaction he gave us the exam, and off we went. The "not-yet-stalker" sister and I were the first out of the class. WE whipped through the exam in 45 minutes, she was out first, and I followed her moments behind. The trouble was we had 2 hours to write the exam. The stalker sister and I were both very perplexed. We thought we had missed pages, but we had gone through the exam twice, both of us. So then, we had to wait around for the rest of the people to finish, because we needed to ask if we had missed something. WE hadn't.. WHEW. But wait... I whewed too soon. The following week, we recieved our marks. I think I had two wrong, but what is this I see, but a line scratched through my mark, and a fail written on the exam. The sister got the same thing, she even got the same two wrong as I did. To our surprise the biology teacher thought the "not-yet-turned-stalker" sister and I had cheated. He told us just that "you cheated". We then had to recreate the events of the exam, and show the biology teacher the impossibilities of our non-cheating ways. He did point out the fact that we left at the exact same time, way to early to boot, and had the same two answers wrong. Well, call it what you will, we didn't cheat we told the guy, and we were offended that he thought we had. We had to spell out to him that we think alike, sound alike, although now adays... we don't act alike... (in stalker terms).

There was another sordid affair with the chemistry teacher. Things were going well in that class, we were making our attempts at chemistry, and even passing the exams that they passed around without any finger pointing episodes.... then one day.... I didn't feel well. I thought it was all in my head, and I was just being lazy. "Buck up little camper, things will get better". (Silly fool was I!). I ended up contracting the chicken pocks. FOREVER. ... well it seemed to me that is. But I missed many many days of chemistry nightschool class, and many assignments that (you needed to be in class to complete them, curse that attendance factor!!). I had just made it back to class, still sporting some of my spots, when something began to go awry in my mouth. ( Little did I know that was the beginning of a very long road living in the denstists chair... to this very day). For days and weeks this carried on, ... I would be fine, then my jaw would hurt, then my tongue would hurt, then the roof of my mouth would hurt, then nothing would hurt, and then I would be fine again. I not only missed many chemistry classes, I also missed many days from work. I was actually did visit the dentist and the doctor... neither of them could find an immediate cure to my predicament. (OK, later it became apparent that it was actually my tooth that needed a root canal...but the symptoms didn't present themselves in the normal way, hence the "dentist-on-call" tapping my very NOW sorry tooth with her upside down mirror). OK... holy super f_______ screaming hell did that hurt.. but I didn't say that....I only wished I did.... ( and I can say that because I have given birth without drugs...., .... not that I didn't want drugs... they refused to give them to me......) anyways.... between the chicken pocks and the axe caving through my face that I was now going through, the husbandman and I were also in the process of buying our very first house. Somehow in the midst of everything, the chemistry class was way beyond my grasp of recouping, and I cut my losses.

I actually cut my losses on the whole nursing profession and said "POOF" begone! ( My sister carried on to become a nurse, and she is an excellent nurse... beyond excellent.. in fact just today I remarked to her that she is ultimately the best "death nurse" I have ever heard of.... seriously really folks... yes, I called her a "death nurse".... because she makes it so freaking easy to die, and honestly welcomes people into the afterlife, and frees them from burden, despair and any pain that they have, and sets their spirits free to roam in peace and tranquility, and holds 90 year olds mothers hands, when a freaking high maintenance family all get up and leave, when mom is just about to make the grand exit, she tells people that their job is done now, and it's time for them to go, she washes and shaves lovely old gentlemen so they can meet their loved ones at the pearly gates all smelling lovely, brisk and clean... I kid you not... she does all that)..... which brings me to the very point of the title of this post......

Last night, I had a really crappy sleep, really crappy... I wasn't awake enough to get up and wander around the semi-renovation home zone, and yet I wasn't asleep enough to stay asleep.... and my eyes kept popping open. So by this morning... I was just so glad that it was morning, and even happier that I wasn't a nurse, that wayI am not continually juggling my days and nights. I can't do this "sleeping" on a regular day. Oh, and another afterthought... I am even more thankful that didn't become a nurse... because there is nothing I enjoy more, than sitting around a circle of older folks discussing hamburgers, and a debate about whether or not onions should be served raw or cooked, on the inside of the bun, or on the side.....

Yes, I thank the lord again....

2 comments:

Michelle said...

I hear you on this one! Urrrgghhh, those shifts....yuk :(

Anonymous said...

There's nothing worse than a night like that. I went through 6 months of nights...just like you described. I took up drinking! JUST KIDDING!!!!!! Keep smiling D!