Week #1: Nursing in the Stone Age

"Just report to your unit at 6:45am and look for [such-and-such]. She'll tell you where to go from there...." was pretty much the best info I got from my recruiter regarding my first day of orientation. Baptist Medical didn't give any more information than that. Nothing about what I should wear, paperwork to bring, or where exactly I was supposed to go. (ting-ting-ting! Warning bells chime from a distance...)

I arrive at the hospital at 6:40, and found my way to PCU right on time. Leaving my timid inner-introvert in the elevator, I marched up to the nurse's station and introduced myself. "I am supposed to meet Ms [such-and-such] at 6:45. Do you know where I can find her?" Three faces in front of me simultaneously turned glassy-eyed. After a few awkward seconds, one of them said, "[such-and-such]? She won't be in her office until 8:30." A few more awkward seconds. The guy who spoke jumped from off the table he was sitting on and told me to follow him, he'd take me to someone who'd know what to do with me. (ting-ting-ting! The warning bells creep in....)

We take the elevators back down to the first floor, and he takes me to the nursing supervisor's office. I introduce myself and same aforementioned glassy-eyed expression comes over her. I have your name on a list somewhere, she says with a sincere grin. We just didn't know when you were actually coming. After leafing through a few pages in her staffing book, she finds me. She hands me a few papers and a 5-item test. After I was done with that, a 10-item exam to test my competency to use the blood sugar meter they use on the units. She must have seen the what-the-hell? expression on my face (I had never seen that type of meter before), she hands me another piece of paper, with another cheeky grin. "Don't worry - here are the answers. They'll teach you how to use the machine when you go upstairs later. It's really easy." (ting-ting-ting! The warning bells sounding a ominously closer now.)

I was having a gnawing feeling in my gut after I finished "answering" my competency exam and so I asked, "um... are you guys gonna have a classroom orientation?" She then (almost apologetically) says, "no, this is the only orientation day you get. I'll let you spend half the day at CCU and the rest of the day in PCU. We'll put you with a nurse." Part of me was saying cool! I don't have to twiddle my thumbs in the classroom listening to some lady in a suit with 80's hair talking about how "Customer Service is Number One In This Hospital" for the umpteenth time. But then again, nothing can beat twiddling my thumbs while getting paid travel nurse pay. Oh, well. I'd never really done it this way before, but who cares? (New hires usually get 4-6 weeks of orientation to the unit. I get one day. Bring it on!) (ting-ting-ting! Trying to ignore the warning bells ringing in my ears.)

I get to the unit and they pair me with another traveler who had been with them for more than a year. The CCU is brand new, with wood floors and spacious rooms with state-of-the-art beds. Come time to pass meds, she and I have a laugh when she shows me their narcotics drawer. She punches in a 5 digit code and pulls out a handful of plastic zip bags fastened by 3 metal rings. She pulls out the pills she wants and hand-writes the end-count on their narcotics log.

I finish the rest of the day, barely getting through the 12 hours. Partly because I am usually asleep around that time and partly because the job itself was a walk in the park. I got in touch with a few other travelers and they told me that after I look past the little annoyances of working in the stone ages, this hospital was a pleasure to work for. Looking around me, I agreed with them. The staff all worked as a team. The doctors did not prance around like they owned the place. The nurses seemed genuinely concerned with each other's lives. I looked out the window and saw the gorgeous weather outside. (ting-ting-ting! I am in love. )

Week #1: Housing Blues

"Murphy is Alive and Well in Jacksonville"

I've been in Jacksonville, FL for 3 days now. So far the entire experience has been a testament to Murphy's Law - one after another. And yet, I am still [amazingly] ecstatic to be here. Must be something in the beach air....

I arrived last Saturday at my housing complex. I was expecting to move into a 2nd-story apartment unit, since I had been given the apartment number "211." After being given the keys and signing my life away, I realized that the "2" of "211" was actually the building number, not the floor. My unit was on the back of the building, right beside the major highway that I had just come from. I called the weekend on-call person for the agency and told her that I had specified a 2nd floor apt. After apologizing for the mix-up, she asked if I could sit tight until Monday, when the housing department will be back at the office. Zonked out from working a 12 hour shift, packing everything in 3 hrs and driving for another 2.5hrs (in that order, respectively) I said "okay" and hung up. And fell asleep on the couch.

My reason for wanting a 2nd story apartment is mainly for peace of mind: I'd like to be able to open the window blinds without the constant nagging thought that - with the inside of my apartment being considerably better illuminated than the outside - I'd be like one of those vignettes in Spaceship Earth at EPCOT Center to passers-by (or even worse, stalker-types).

Also, the only obstruction separating me from the highway are bushes and trees, and it gets a little bit creepy when coming home after dark. I'd have to turn my back to the bushes when unlocking my door, and I'm into code orange the whole time, expecting some crazed flasher jumping out of the [beautiful fall-colored] foliage and showing me his [completely unimpressive] "goods". Of course, I secretly smile to myself and say Come on out, buddy. I dare you. I'll show you what I learned at Krav Maga class.

See why I'm glad to be at the Jacksonville and Jacksonville Beach area.

Pre-Travel Heebie-Jeebies

Finally received paperwork for my new travel assignment via DHL today - my second travel contract. I should be asleep right now but I am wide awake, my brain preoccupied, trying to stop that nauseating feeling of panic slowly creeping in.

What in the world was I thinking? I ask myself.

Starting all over, being "that strange new girl," fumbling around with paperwork, having to beg passers-by what's the [friggin'] code for this door?. People mispronouncing my name, me not remembering theirs. Packing / unpacking, not knowing where anything is. Strange bed, strange shower, and which one is my house key again? Another hospital, another city, another apartment. No friends, no family close by. Just me.

Then, after the little brat in me has stopped kicking and screaming, a quiet voice says, You wanted to travel, didn't you? Then suck it up and do what it takes.

"Pushing through fear is less frightening
than living with the underlying fear
that comes from a feeling of helplessness."
- Susan Jeffers, author of Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway