A Distant 2nd

Can you hear me now? Good!

I'm next on the list. If one more person out of the 48 current students has a change of heart or mind, I will take their place and begin nursing college in one week. If not, well, someone has to miss the cut off.

People keep reassuring me someone will drop out. My friend Amanda said, "Don't you think at least one of them enrolled just so they could get financial aid?" Perhaps. In the meantime, while I wait and hope for an unforeseen illness or injurious assault on one of my would-be classmates, I still have to proceed as though I am starting, that way if one of the current students falls, ill or otherwise, I will be ready.

For starters, last week I had to go to the College of Nursing's orientation. I spent the weeks leading up to the orientation hatching plans on how to eliminate my competition—intimidation, bribery, tragic stories of my sickly children who may not live if I don't become a nurse soon. There was a time in my life when such things would not have been out of the question. I was not above a bit of badmouthing or backstabbing to get the girl, (sorry, Jeremy). But in the end I decided to leave this up to fate.

At the orientation we were congratulated, encouraged, fed, and fingerprinted. It was weird to mingle among all the real students. I felt like an imposter. I felt compelled to admit, "My name is John, but I'm just an alternate." Prior to this day I had felt proud of what I'd achieved. Suddenly I was looking at 48 students who had not only achieved it too, but had done it better. I came in 49th place out of 48. It made me feel a little ashamed, like I wasn't quite good enough to get in, but I still could if one of the real ones dies. I decided to keep my status to myself mostly.

The problem is, as was the goal of orientation, I ended up meeting a lot of the students. We talked about our fears and expectations. It was a bonding experience. Everyone was excited and nervous and just looking forward to getting on with it. Only, I had to leave that day unsure if I would see any of them again. They are all going to go on together, regardless of what happens to me, and it made me not only jealous but also sad. I'd known I wasn't officially in. I already had my sights set on January. But then they let me show up and get treated like an incoming student, only to turn me back around and expect me to wait for four more months.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I had to spend my weekend studying. Starting tomorrow I have to attend a four-day intensive that preps the incoming students for clinical work. You see, I am expected to keep up, school-wise, with the other students until I am officially omitted from the program.

The studying isn't so bad. Most of it covers skills that I have already acquired through my job, much of it obvious. The freaky part is the DVD that came with the manual. On this DVD are step-by-step tutorials on how to do things like make a bed or give someone an enema. Not that I'm squeamish or embarrassed by the more personal topics, but I was surprised to see that the makers of the videos elected to use real people, as opposed to medical dummies. And they don't cut around the icky parts either. Need your vagina cleaned? Well let's see it!

As I watched I got to thinking about the people involved. Are these real nurses? Are these real patients? If not, are they professional models, and if so, what was their agent thinking? Perhaps they are real patients who have agreed to play a critical role in health care education. In any case, I just can't imagine signing on to have my body prodded in front of a video crew on a set that looks suspiciously like it might double as a hospital in porno films. To say nothing of the production quality. I don't think it's asking too much to do a second take on the segment about penis cleaning since, in the first one, the 'patient' got an erection. (Granted it wasn't a rager, but it was definitely hovering when the male nurse let go and stopped rubbing it. Who knows, maybe that was the best take?) My point is, shouldn't an instructional video show proper technique and leave out the inevitable variables that will arise (pardon the pun) on the job? In other words, if we are not supposed to arouse our male patients when cleaning them, this confusing detail should not be included; if we are, this ought to be made clearer, (if only to explain my low scores on patient evaluations).

Obviously I am focusing on the highlights. Most of the videos are as bland as they sound—handwashing, aspetic technique, assisting with meals—covering things I do everyday at work. I can only pray it will get more exciting when I go to class tomorrow to practice our new skills*, hopefully, on dummies.

And then I wait, perhaps for a few days, perhaps for a few months. Either way I am really doing this. I have taken the education thus far very seriously, but it has only been recently that the decision to change careers seemed concrete, that I would one day really be a nurse. As I watched the video nurses roll their patients to their sides to apply ointments or remove catheters I thought, "That's going to be me someday."

* The punchline to all of this is that the nurses don't do any of this stuff we're studying. I do it. The techs do it. In a pinch, I'm sure the nurses have to help bathe or clean patients, but for the most part they administer meds and do specialized wound care. They just don't have time to give 10-minute back rubs or do range-of-motion (ROM) exercises. That's what the assisting staff is for.