I did something today I had been meaning to do for a while...I went to the gym. For the past week I had been so busy with school, work, and school (yes, I meant to mention it twice), that I had no time to myself to do the things I so love doing. Working out happens to be one of those things. I love feeling my muscles tighten up as I think about the future of my washboard abs (oh wait, that was my dream). I love running on the machines and feeling all my problems and Twinkies sweat away. But most of all, I love the feeling of getting to the gym, because getting there is the hardest part. Walking into the building is a chore all its own.
Your brain is telling you to run, and I don't mean on a treadmill. It says "turn around now or else you'll regret it." And yes, sometimes you do. Your body feels fatigued and broken after a workout, but that's a good thing. It allows your body to build itself back up. I'm not sure if you know this, but when you do a physical activity, your muscles are using and "eating up" all the extra food and energy reserves you have. If you work out hard enough you begin to burn off so much that it outweighs how much you put into your body, and therein lies the beauty of weight loss.
Well, as your muscles literally break themselves down, there is more room to build them back up to a level greater than before. You take in protein, which adds strength to previously weak areas of your body. As time progresses, you usually see an outward difference in appearance and performance.
I gave you this long health lesson to portray an idea. Sometimes, in life, we go through rough spots. A lot of times these rough spots look like they are impossible to bypass or even trudge through. We see the impossibility of our circumstances, and like so many infants do, we plop onto our bums and start crying. We complain that this or that isn't fair, or this or that is too hard. We decide to stay put instead of going to the gym. The less we face our problems, just like the less we go to the gym, the less fit we get emotionally and spiritually.
God, being the loving Father he is, puts us through times in order to strengthen us, to build our spiritual muscles. Our circumstances break us down to the point that we have to go to him and say, "well, um, I kind of can't do this alone...can you help?" And again, as the loving Father, God comes in and shows us (trains us) in the ways to spiritual strength. As that happens people will see an outward change in us, not like bigger biceps and tighter glutes (although I welcome both). We will produce good fruit, a healthy relationship with Christ, and a love for others that overwhelms those who aren't saved.
It takes time, there is no doubt. And there are days when we just want to stay where we are and indulge in the delicious and fun ways of this world. But as God strengthens us spiritually, it gets a little easier. We will never be perfect (we all miss our days at the gym), but with God as our trainer, we can become great spiritual athletes and run the race well...all the way to the finish.
The Chronicles of a Student Nurse, 1.2
Today was our first big test in theory class, and man was it a doozy (sp?). I hadn't really studied much for it, which worried me a lot. I had done a few practice problems that were similar to the critical thinking ones that would be on the test, but other than that I think I had read three or four chapters out of a total of like 100 (ok, maybe it was 19. No seriously, it really was 19 chapters).
Anyways, it is needless to say that I was a little freaked and anxious. I knew that whatever score I got I was stuck with for the rest of the semester and couldn't shluff off any more. I got on campus plenty early and saw all my friends frantically cramming. Now, I need to say something here about test-day cram sessions.
Honestly, how much can it help? Say you studied 5 hours the night before, trying to cram as much information into your already crammed-full brain, drinking two or three cups of coffee, until you passed out on the couch from overload of info. You woke up and rushed to school, only to grab the exact same book with the exact same info that you had read 2 hours before (amount of sleep pending). I just don't see how looking over the stuff some more that didn't change over a night that has caused you to lose countless hours of sleep can help. Logic says it would hinder you.
I obviously didn't bring my book.
We were all uptight as could be, just wanting it to all be over. Most of us expected to fail even though we put on a happy face and told each other "I'm shooting for the A." Who knows how many people had already cried over the fact that this test , and the four or five following it, could make or break how far we made it in the program.
Now, it may seem like this whole thing is a complete over-exageration. But keep in mind that we were still in the dark. And the mind plays tricks on you in the dark, making you think things are a certain way, which they aren't, and making you see things you think are there, which they aren't. So, even though we may have had a chance to redeem ourselves on a later test, we were just seeing the current crisis and nothing more. Sound like our society at all? Maybe, maybe not...
...long story short, I passed along with the rest of my crew. We went to celebrate at Pei-Wei. The end (for now).
Anyways, it is needless to say that I was a little freaked and anxious. I knew that whatever score I got I was stuck with for the rest of the semester and couldn't shluff off any more. I got on campus plenty early and saw all my friends frantically cramming. Now, I need to say something here about test-day cram sessions.
Honestly, how much can it help? Say you studied 5 hours the night before, trying to cram as much information into your already crammed-full brain, drinking two or three cups of coffee, until you passed out on the couch from overload of info. You woke up and rushed to school, only to grab the exact same book with the exact same info that you had read 2 hours before (amount of sleep pending). I just don't see how looking over the stuff some more that didn't change over a night that has caused you to lose countless hours of sleep can help. Logic says it would hinder you.
I obviously didn't bring my book.
We were all uptight as could be, just wanting it to all be over. Most of us expected to fail even though we put on a happy face and told each other "I'm shooting for the A." Who knows how many people had already cried over the fact that this test , and the four or five following it, could make or break how far we made it in the program.
Now, it may seem like this whole thing is a complete over-exageration. But keep in mind that we were still in the dark. And the mind plays tricks on you in the dark, making you think things are a certain way, which they aren't, and making you see things you think are there, which they aren't. So, even though we may have had a chance to redeem ourselves on a later test, we were just seeing the current crisis and nothing more. Sound like our society at all? Maybe, maybe not...
...long story short, I passed along with the rest of my crew. We went to celebrate at Pei-Wei. The end (for now).
The Chronicles of a Student Nurse, 1.1
So, here we are, fourth week in. We had hospital orientation yesterday and all I can say is wow! Here's how it went down. I set my alarm for 4:45, allowing for a small 15-minute snooze button period. At five, I was up and out of bed, running mainly on fear and anxiety rather than the bowl of frosted flakes and glass of OJ. I donned my smurf-colored scrubs (don't even ask), and I was out the door at the earliest hour I remember ever being awake in my life.
There is an ethereal glow you can sense in those early morning hours. It might the mysterious glow of dawn about to come over the horizon, but I suspected it was from the bright moon shining through the clouds and the yellow street lights glancing off the swaying trees. As I got in my car I said a little prayer that went a little something like this: "God, don't let me fail. Please don't let me kill anyone (whether I'm doing something with the patient or not). Lord, don't let me cry in front of anyone. Give me strength. And, oh yeah, Jesus...don't let me look like an idiot. Amen."
I drove on the highway and made my exit no problem. After parking at the garage and hoping the fact that the ticket machine was out of order wouldn't stop me from getting out at the end of the day, I met two classmates and crossed the not-so-busy Harry Hines to the lobby where, miraculously, everyone made it on time. Our teacher asked us for our paperwork (which I had spent hours doing, quadruple-checking, and praying over so that I wouldn't forget anything), and I held my breath as I handed it to her. She scanned it, said "thank you"; I let out a quick whimper of thanksgiving, and that was the whole ordeal.
She gave us a quick tour of the hospital and told us we would be following around the PCAs for an hour and a half. Our group dropped off each pair one-by-one at our assigned floors and we said our goodbyes. We were dropped off second to last, and by that time the shift change was underway. Everyone was running around and, even though it looked like mass chaos, somehow everyone knew where they were going and what they had to do. My excuse and answer for the perpetual deer-in-the-headlights look these next two years is going to be, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a student." It sounds like a fool-proof plan to me...
After hours of conferences, a scarfed-down, yet completely savored, lunch, and 30 minutes of quick chart readings and assignments, we were done. As I left the hospital with a headache like I had never had before, blood-red eyes that I had to force to stay open due to lack of sleep, and a mind so crammed full of new information it was about to burst, I walked out with a look of triumph on my face. I smiled as I thought about how I survived my first day of many. But I'm not allowed to think of that right now. I told myself that if I wanted to survive...
...it would be one day at a time.
There is an ethereal glow you can sense in those early morning hours. It might the mysterious glow of dawn about to come over the horizon, but I suspected it was from the bright moon shining through the clouds and the yellow street lights glancing off the swaying trees. As I got in my car I said a little prayer that went a little something like this: "God, don't let me fail. Please don't let me kill anyone (whether I'm doing something with the patient or not). Lord, don't let me cry in front of anyone. Give me strength. And, oh yeah, Jesus...don't let me look like an idiot. Amen."
I drove on the highway and made my exit no problem. After parking at the garage and hoping the fact that the ticket machine was out of order wouldn't stop me from getting out at the end of the day, I met two classmates and crossed the not-so-busy Harry Hines to the lobby where, miraculously, everyone made it on time. Our teacher asked us for our paperwork (which I had spent hours doing, quadruple-checking, and praying over so that I wouldn't forget anything), and I held my breath as I handed it to her. She scanned it, said "thank you"; I let out a quick whimper of thanksgiving, and that was the whole ordeal.
She gave us a quick tour of the hospital and told us we would be following around the PCAs for an hour and a half. Our group dropped off each pair one-by-one at our assigned floors and we said our goodbyes. We were dropped off second to last, and by that time the shift change was underway. Everyone was running around and, even though it looked like mass chaos, somehow everyone knew where they were going and what they had to do. My excuse and answer for the perpetual deer-in-the-headlights look these next two years is going to be, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a student." It sounds like a fool-proof plan to me...
After hours of conferences, a scarfed-down, yet completely savored, lunch, and 30 minutes of quick chart readings and assignments, we were done. As I left the hospital with a headache like I had never had before, blood-red eyes that I had to force to stay open due to lack of sleep, and a mind so crammed full of new information it was about to burst, I walked out with a look of triumph on my face. I smiled as I thought about how I survived my first day of many. But I'm not allowed to think of that right now. I told myself that if I wanted to survive...
...it would be one day at a time.
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