Saturday, January 15, 2011

The Dreaded First Day of Clinicals - Story of a Grown Woman Being Ridiculous

It's not upon me just yet, but next Saturday, January 22nd, I will step in to some sort of medical facility wearing my white scrubs, my "LPN Student Nurse" patch displayed proudly on my crisp white left sleeve and...

I don't know!

Now, if you know me at all, you'll understand how much "not knowing" drives me crazy. But here's a vivid vision for you to sink your teeth into of how I've imagined it might go:


The house is cold. Faint thunks are coming from Maddie's room as she bangs her toys against the wall after we've told her a thousand times not to. The soft morning sunlight glows through the window and touches my unopened eyes. I clench my jaw to stifle a morning breath yawn and do one of those full body in-bed stretches.
Ahhh, Saturday morning. Maybe Thad can get up with Maddie today and...
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
My eyes pop open in a sickening rush. (Insert profuse use of very naughty words)
I was supposed to be at clinicals at 6:30! It's...I turn to look at the alarm clock, which is flashing as if laughing at me, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, you're late, power out, ha-ha.
I spring out of bed, bawling and yelling at myself, at Thad, at Florida Power and Light. I go to the bathroom and cry. I try to put on my make-up, and cry harder.
Maddie run's in the bedroom, wearing her usual morning attire: bright red tights with a hole in the toe, plastic princess shoes, and a Buzz Lightyear pajama top. "Whas wrong, Mommy? You cryin'?"
After I reassure my poor kid that I'm okay, I dress too quickly, forgetting that my scrubs are white and that blue panties probably weren't the best choice, I grab my stuff and fly to clinicals, pulling in the parking lot and almost running over a nurse who will probably be my boss one day, and a nice looking elderly woman in a wheelchair who doesn't even realize she's outside, let alone in the path of a pshyco student.
I make it in and find a very perturbed Instructor who tells me I'm lucky he's not sending me home.
The day proceeds with me making every possible mistake imaginable. Everyone is laughing at me (which is more than likely the blue panties, though I won't find this out until I get home and Thad makes a joke about it).

How does this story end? Well, I wish I knew. If I had a better understanding of what was involved in clinicals, I'm sure the story in my head would continue, but it pretty much stops here in my head, too.

But there is always the real clinicals. And I believe the non-fiction version of that first day will be more entertaining, because somewhere beneath all the frantic worrying, I truly believe it will be one hell of an experience.

An awesome one.

I just need to remember to stay away from blue panties.


  1. But, see, now, you've imagined the worst... so that's all taken care of, and you get to let it go now! Besides, they probably won't let you actually damage anybody. At least... nah, I'm sure they won't. Really.

    P.S. Battery-powered or wind-up alarm clock. Great anxiety-reducer.

  2. LOL!!! Kate you crack me up, I can just see it now! Well, I am going to set the regular alarm clock, my cell phone alarm clock, AND Thad's cell phone alarm clock. I'll pre-set the coffee maker, have all my stuff in one place, and I will hide all other colored panties except white or tan.

    Yeah I should be good :p