My First Check Off, Thankfully Not My Last

This was a short week. We had Monday off for MLK day. This leaves me with the feeling that I still don't really know how rough this is all going to be. Two easy weeks in a row. 

I say easy, but . . . Wednesday I had my first skills check off. This was the first opportunity I had to lose my spot in nursing school, and the amount of internal pressure I felt was immense. I'll jump to the end of the story to save you all from feeling anxious for me. We had to make a 90 to pass, and I made a 97. I passed, so breathe easy as you read on. The skills we had to perform were simple enough: oral temperature, pulse, respiration rate, blood pressure. You are awarded points for successfully completing all the various tasks. Some of your points are dependent on simple things that you have to do before or between tasks. Walk in, wash your hands, introduce yourself, make sure you've got the correct patient by checking an imaginary armband on your partner, have them tell you their full name and date of birth, provide privacy by drawing an imaginary curtain closed . . . There's a lot of miming, so it's easy to forget things. I practiced all my skills as the day came closer, and I felt really confident going into that room. I had butterflies in my stomach, but I felt good. I mimed knocking on the door, and introduced myself while I was sanitizing my hands. I asked my lab partner for her name and birth date, and when she said her birthday my lab instructor said, "Your birthday is July 17th?! Mine is July 21st! We're both cancers." My lab partner responded with something about Leos, and birthdays, and I just stood there, feeling like a deer in headlights. I was completely disrupted. I didn't know what I had just said, or what I was supposed to say next. I was lost and confused. My heart started pounding, and I could feel the pressure in my head building. The clock on the wall that had been unobtrusive before was suddenly pounding in my head. It was all I could hear. I took a deep breath to try and center myself, and regain my focus. Out loud I said, "What did I just do? I checked her armband. What do I need to do next? Temperature? Temperature. Okay." I grabbed the electric thermometer from the table in front of me. I narrated my actions, and then realized I'd forgotten to mime closing the curtain for privacy. I backtracked, and closed the curtain, then proceeded. We're supposed to count pulse and respirations at the same time, but I couldn't see my partner's chest rise at all. I asked if I could crouch down so I could see better, and started over. Then I realized I'd forgotten to ask my partner all kinds of background information about whether she'd had anything hot, cold or caffeinated in the last thirty minutes, her activity level, her emotional state, smoking . . . ugh! I hopped up and asked her all the appropriate questions. I had been derailed, and I was still not back on track. My blood pressure was skyrocketing. I was starting to feel ill. I could no longer find my partner's pulse because all I could feel was my own blood throbbing in my fingers. I switched arms. I found her pulse, but couldn't consistently distinguish between hers and mine. I flubbed finding her estimated systolic reading. Which meant I didn't inflate the blood pressure cuff high enough when I was trying to get her actual blood pressure. I had to do it over. I was so far off that my instructor had to tell me how high to inflate the cuff so I could get an accurate reading. I felt faint. I don't know if I was documenting everything correctly because I felt like I was becoming detached from my hands. I got an accurate blood pressure, and although I did it in a schizophrenic manner, I managed to do and say all the right things in the end. Praise the Lord. 

I felt absolutely ill for the rest of the day. My head was pounding. My stomach hurt. My resources were depleted, and my muscles all felt weak and exhausted. As soon as I got home I climbed into bed. I think I ate dinner with my family. I must have helped my son with his homework. It's all kind of a blur. Thursdays are my day off, and I spent this one in my pajamas. I had a decent cry -- the first of many, I'm sure. Thank God it's over. Next time should be easier.