Thoughts on 9/11

Of course, I remember, as do we all, where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news about 9/11. What I had forgotten until now was that it was the events of 9/11 and the aftermath that reinspired me to want to go to nursing school. If there was going to be a disaster, or an anthrax epidemic, or some other horror to be gotten through, I wanted to be one of the ones taking care of other people.

Shortly after 9/11, I applied to the Johns Hopkins school of nursing (where my great-grandmother had been in the first graduating class and where I was working at the time). I was very excited about the possibility, but JHU apparently was not. I was not accepted, and I thought, "well, I guess I just wasn't supposed to do that." I put the idea aside for 7 1/2 years and did other things. Then on February 13 of this year (yes, Friday the 13th), the company where I was employed lost the contract I worked on. My good friend, Marge, who also works there, brought up the possibility of going to nursing school. I thought, "well, maybe I should give it one more shot." And the rest, as they say, is history.

So, the third week of school went pretty well. One stressful day in 3 weeks is a pretty good average. Next week is our first test, and I'm busy studying for that. Working on a presentation that's due the following Monday along with another test, and then finally, a third test the week after that. Then I'll only be a month away from my first clinicals. I've gotten my uniforms all ready and most of my supplies - stethescope, etc. Dale gave me a nice little watch with a white band to wear for work.

I can do this.