The Hanging

Per instructions by the nursing school director, I made an appointment to see my counselor to find out what kind of trouble I was in. She told me it was her obligation to represent me in a hearing which was being called to determine whether my difficulty with the nursing instructors had merit or not. The idea sounded professional enough and the two of us prepared my formal complaints and what we thought would correct the situation (like a skills lab to learn how to do a blood transfusion, for instance).

The day of the hearing came about and Olga, the director, sat at the head of a huge maple conference table, with Cruella seated to the left of her and my counselor and me at her right. Cruella sat across from me with no expression at all while I explained my problem with the threats and lack of skills lab and even outlined how well I had done when I attended the over-the-hill branch of the nursing school. Unmoved, Olga denied my request to transfer back to the other school, “We just don’t do things like that,” but said she would look into having better skills training done before we got to the hospital to do the real deal on real people. However, she said “all” the instructors were on the same page with questioning my ability to be a nurse and I would have to undergo intense observation and testing. The noose had been placed around my neck.

My counselor and I walked out of the hearing not sure if it went well or not. We were happy that the skills lab situation would most likely be improved, but questioned what was in store for me. I knew I could take the skills test because I had passed them all before, but at this point I didn’t really trust any of them.

Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed at the skills test set for me. The once friendly skills lab instructor suddenly turned cold during my test, and had set up tubes and vials totally unfamiliar to me (and no longer used at the hospital). I was given outdated syringes and watched and timed while I tried to figure out what went where and what it was called. The intensity of the test caused me to totally blank out on medication names that I otherwise knew by heart and my nervousness and prednisone jitters got the best of me. I flunked the test and the noose tightened

Going back to the clinical floor of the hospital while Kittie watched me like a hawk didn’t go any better. While my peers got to spread out and work on their own, Kittie scrutinized every move I made. I finally forgot to check a name band on a patient before giving her a med, and that was it. Kittie went wild with “What am I going to do with you? I’ve tried so hard to get you trained and you just can’t cut it!” Right. She tried really hard at something, but it wasn’t at training me to be a nurse.

Kittie brought me inside the break room and said a hearing would have to be set up for me to be expelled from the nursing program; that I just wasn’t nursing material. It took every ounce of strength I had to sit there and listen to her. It was apparent that I wasn’t going to win this battle. I have a personal policy of not being where I’m not wanted, and I clearly wasn’t wanted in this school. So I got up and said, “I’ll save you all the trouble – I QUIT!” And I left the room, then the hospital, then the parking lot. I didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. The noose had been tightened all the way.

When I got home I sat in a living room chair and couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure what my next move would be since the dream I had been chasing for several years was over. Now what?
Cheers!
TPP