The Operation

I was standing next to my unconscious patient, when it happened. Grey dots gathered; blurring my vision. Breathe, I told myself. I knew I needed to let the others know what was happening, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even slide down to the floor. All I could do was to hold on to the operating table. Everything went black.

Anyone fancy a makeover? 

And you would think I passed out. But I didn’t. No, instead I was caught in this strange inbetween. I was completely powerless, but I could still hear the nurses and doctors talking. I couldn’t make out the words they were saying, but I held on to their voices. I was not going to become the student that fainted before the operation even started.

Eventually one of them noticed that I had gone white as snow. I was placed in a chair, and up my legs went. My ears were ringing, and I was blinking like crazy. Blind as blind can be. Slowly, ever so slowly, the world came back to me. I could make out “you’re not the first one.” Gradually, shadows replaced darkness, and grey figures replaced shadows.

I sat outside for several minutes afterwards, watching my feet.

I can’t explain why it happened. Perhaps it was the new smells. Perhaps it was the face-mask. Perhaps it was my sky-high expectations. I’d been looking forward to the operation for so long – imagine how I felt when I messed up so early on. I was scared they wouldn’t let me come back in. However, after dutifully drinking several glasses of juice, they did.

And for the five and a half hours the operation took – I actually enjoyed myself immensely.

The Children’s Ward

In our second year, nursing students are assigned to a ward for two months. I received the children’s ward. This is my fourth week working there. It is exciting, it is educational, and at times it is funny – but overall I can’t say that it is fun.

At the entrance of the ward – A snake.

We laugh, we play, we run around – children and personnel alike. However, that is only one part of it. The next might consist of pain that I can’t relieve, and of tears that I can’t dry. I can go from one room, where all is well in the world, to another, where the world seems at a standstill – about to end.

I love children – love their innocence, free spirit and unfiltered minds. I love working with them. Except for when they’re very, very sick. I find it difficult to hold such tiny hands in mine, and feel them getting colder. Perhaps one adapts after a longer amount of time, and learns how to handle it better.

Aside from the hurt I experience, and the contrast of moving back and forth between getting better and getting worse – this is still a month I will look back on and appreciate. I have learned a lot of things – even if one of them is that I might not be cut out to work with this age group.

The Exam

The examinator called my name and I stepped up. “The assignment is to change the stoma and teach the patient how to do so himself.” I was overjoyed. Over the last few weeks I’ve spent hours upon hours practicing the different tasks we could receive, and this one I felt confident in.

My patient ❤

The exam began. And it went wrong from the beginning. Suddenly I couldn’t remember the order of things. Suddenly I couldn’t explain my actions. I drew a complete blank on the first two questions she asked me. My pulse quickened. My breathing became shallow. Nothing about my hands resembled the firm, yet gentle, touch of a nurse.

With real patients I’ve never wavered. But with this doll? My hands were shaking.

“Tell the patient what you’re thinking,” the examinator said. Our eyes met. I didn’t need her to say it out loud to know what she was thinking. I refused to give up though. I struggled onward and made awkward conversation with the doll. It went a little bit better, but not nearly good enough. The last minutes were miserable ones.

I’m sorry for the awful treatment this time, but at least you know that I know better.

The nerves really got the better of me this time. What’s worse, I can tell you exactly where I went wrong. When push came to shove I choked – I couldn’t show my knowledge when it mattered. Have any of you ever experienced something similar? If you haven’t, be glad, because it downright sucks.

Torture to Peaceful Music

I had a bad day yesterday. First I overslept by an hour, then I was completely unfocused at school – and to top it off, I overcooked my yummy-looking fish.

There was only one solution – yoga. I used to do it regularly, but that’s years ago now. However, I’ve been thinking about getting back to it. Stretching, lots of breathing, and relaxing – sounds like what every stressed out student needs, right?

Wrong. Oh so very, very wrong. Twist this way, bend that way, and get those elbows to the floor! It was torture to peaceful music. To make matters worse, my mokey mind refused to shut up. It kept going on about push-pause injections, and oh-my-god-this-pose-hurts.

Perhaps some days are just like this. No matter how hard you try, it just won’t do. Thank goodness for tomorrows. Thank goodness for sleep being twist- and bend-free. And thank goodness whoever invented the “Destroyer of universe”-pose, is far, far away from me.

If we were having tea…

Because I don’t drink coffee. But I do have so much to tell you.

It’s been several weeks since I suddenly stopped posting (again). I’m back in Norway, back in school, and have already had my first exam. In two weeks I have another. Ususally we have our exams at the end of the semester, but the second year Nursing students will spend months at the hospital, so the idea is to get the exams out of the way.

The days are becoming shorter and shorter, but feel longer and longer.

I don’t blog that much about it, but studying Nursing is hard. In this week alone we have done (on each other): peripheral venous catheter, sub q pain pump, several different injections, and nasogastric tube. There’s been a lot of blood. Suffice to say, I’m tired at the end of the day.

It took a couple of tries, but everyone finally found a vein!

Despite the struggle, I’m happy. I’ve started dancing again, I’m spending more time with the people I care about, and ultimately doing more of the things that I love. I just often find myself exhausted. I wish I had more energy to blog. I haven’t even answered all of your amazing comments. I have read them though, and appreciated Every. Single. One.

Thanks for sticking with me through it all!

Lastly, I just want to wish you well. Feel free to tell me about what you’ve been up to since I’ve been gone! And if you’ve had a bad week, remember it’s almost Friday. It’s almost Friday!

Netflix, how could you?

Some days I’ll do anything to avoid being productive. Cue Netflix. However, the other day I had a nasty shock.

Netflix has cancelled their production of my favorite show – Sense8. The last season, season two, left the viewers with a massive cliffhanger. Now I’m never going to know how it turned out. My only comfort is that I can rewatch the first seasons again and again (and again).

It feels like I’ve been robbed. Robbed of future good moments, of intense excitement, and of heartfelt agony and triumph for and with the characters. Which show am I now going to look forward to with the same childish joy? Which show can I turn to, that can provide me with the same crazy plot and lovable characters?

I might be overreacting, but how could you Netflix,

HOW COULD YOU?

In loving memory of the greatest show Netflix has ever produced.

A Day to Breathe

Some days it’s okay if the only thing you did was breathe.

And sometimes, it’s okay if that’s what you wish you did – and hope to do tomorrow.

Dreaming Again

If I could go anywhere – where would I be headed right now? In this instance, probably back to bed. My classes really start too early this year. But if I look past that, where?

The first part of 2016 was all about dreams. I finally traveled Norway, I volunteered in Australia, and I did more of the things that makes me happy. In the last part of the year I started Nursing School. It was a roller coaster of emotions, but eventually I settled in in my new home, and I guess you could say my new life.

Nothing is easy, but most things are possible

When I dream, I dream big. I want to go to places I cannot get to. I want to experience things I probably never will. To me, dreaming is innocent, dreaming is for everyone, and dreams are not meant to be contained. For a while last year I stopped dreaming, stopped because I thought it would make me unfocused, because nursing is a dream – and dreaming two at once is simply too much to ask.

My heart is almost always restless

Today I realized I was wrong. Of course I can dream several dreams at once. I can want to travel the world and still want to do my best at school. I can dream about Antarctica at the same time as I try to understand neurology. Dreaming is scary; it is frightening to open oneself up to the possibility of failure – of never seeing the dreams through. However, dreaming also makes one creative, and so this year I resolve to travel, even though I’m studying. I resolve to find a way to make the most of 2017.

And to share it with all of you.

365 new days

365 new chances.

Home for Christmas

I have come home for Christmas, and hope all of you are surrounded by your loved ones too!