The alarm clock reads 6:30…I slowly roll over to my face my current companion in bed and I find myself staring into a pair of deep brown eyes – 6:30!?!? Zoe looks a little frightened. I check my ‘crackberry.’ Yep – 6:30. Oh my gosh, I was supposed to be awake an hour ago – I’m supposed to be at the hospital right now. What happened!?! Adrenaline, mixed with frustration, surges through me. I set my alarm clock last night, but apparently, just forgot to turn it on.
Two scenarios run through my mind as I thumb through zillions of papers in my notebook, “Where is Barbara’s number? What am I going to say to her? Should I just tell her I’m sick and take the whole day off?” Whew. I find her number. Before I know it, my clinical instructor answers her phone. “Barbara, it’s Amanda…” The tears start creeping up into the corners of my eyes and my voice starts to break – “I just woke up…I don’t know what happened…What do you want me to do?” Barbara calmly, almost comically asks, “How fast can you get here without breaking any speeding limits?” “It will take me 30 minutes to get there…I can be there in 45 minutes.” She sweetly says, “Calm down and stop your tears…be here by 8:00.”
A huge sigh of relief escapes as I get ready to face my day. I realize that I only would have been hurting myself if I would have lied about being sick. After all, I stayed up (and Skyped with Hillary) and did my homework, including an extensive patient workup. I didn’t do all of that work for nothing!
I put my white scrubs on and then start the process of ‘putting on my face.’ I giggle to myself as I remember Akbar telling me, “Amanda, it’s makeup – not magic.” Well, it’s definitely magic this morning! It doesn’t help with the bad hair day, but whatever.
I walk into the nurse’s station at 7:35. My nurse doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m there an hour late. Awesome! She goes with me so that we can introduce ourselves to my patient. Before I know it, the lunch trays are here. I’ve already given my patient approximately 5 medications PO (which means “by mouth”) J along with three injections. I’m starting to feel a little comfortable with a needle in my hand…watch out!
The charge nurse is talking with my patient’s “roommate.” The post-motorcycle accident guy will be going home later today. Diabetic guy will be around until at least Monday. “Excuse me, Mark” I find myself saying to the charge nurse. I scoot past him and the door – Diabetic guy’s lunch tray in hand. BAM! Coffee and chocolate pudding are on the floor and have splashed up all over my white scrubs. I can feel my face turning as red as the sharps container hanging on the wall. Mark, the charge nurse, doesn’t laugh at all. “This happens all of the time!! I’ve ripped tons of scrubs with that stupid thing.” I’m playing everything back in my head. My sleeve got caught on the door handle, when I moved, everything else moved, but me. Mark goes and grabs some towels to clean up my mess. As he walks back into the room, BAM! His sleeve gets stuck too. I’m still wondering if he did that for my benefit. I giggle to myself wondering what Justin is going to say when he hears this!
I clean everything up and replace Diabetic guy’s cup of coffee. I run off to join my classmates at lunch and feel the need to instruct them about watching out for those trick door handles! They all say that they can barely notice the coffee, which has now dried onto my scrubs. It’s true – you only see it if it’s pointed out. But, I know it’s there and feel like everyone’s watching me!
After about 90 more minutes with Diabetic guy, I tell him that I’ll see him in the morning. He responds, “I’ll see you tomorrow, God willing.”
He instantly reminds me of my best friend, Akbar, who always says, “Insah Allah (if God wills it).
As soon as I get home, I ask Gabe if he has any Spray & Wash and declare that I’m going to need a lot of it.
He looks at my scrubs and laughs as I give him the rundown of what happened.
As I walk to the laundry room, a little boy and his parents are walking to the pool. He stops on the sidewalk and says, “Hey girl! Are you coming to the pool too?” “No – I have to do some laundry because I have to get up really early tomorrow.” “Girl, what’s your name?” “Amanda. What’s yours’?” “Joseph.”
I look at Joseph and his sweet little smile helps me remember why I chose to be a nurse – a pediatric nurse. Insah Allah.
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