To Blog, or not to Blog...and about WHAT?

Yes, I know….I’ve promised several times to resurrect my blog. But this time I’m determined. The direction, however, is a bit unclear. I suppose it’s a good thing to have multiple ‘passions’; do I blog about baseball (especially since the Red Sox have decided to rekindle the flame this year)? The blog was originally about being in the trenches of nurse education, where I am still slogging away. But since I’m on sabbatical (thank you, Endicott College) and my project is just about finished, maybe a hiatus from all things academic would be preferable.

But then…there’s hiking. My friend (virtual, electronic friend) John Compton blogs about hiking, and has rewarded his readers with some incredibly interesting information about more obscure hikes. In addition to blogging about beautiful views, conditions of trails, etc., he’s pointed his readers to hikes with unusual ‘twists’…obscure hikes often overlooked by all but the ‘locals’. The first hike that I did on his recommendation was to Mt. Surprise over in Maine, where there still exists wreckage of a plane crash. Not able to find it on our first trip, he graciously gave me explicit directions to the site. Although its not a ‘secret’, really, it IS a place at risk for vandalism and those who respect and treasure this site are not prone to publicize it.

Check out John's blog:   1HappyHiker  He has some great photos and ideas for hikes (although, really, John?  The snake photo did not exactly encourage me to get out in the woods this week.

Because many of his hikes are well within the ability of those of us of a ‘certain age’ who are beyond peak bagging but not yet ready for the rocking chair, he’s been a great resource….thus spurring me to dedicate this blog mostly to the trials and tribulations of the aging hiker, with an eye towards encouraging older or differently abled hikers to get out on the trails this summer.

"Boy, I'd like to have YOUR job!" I wish I had the proverbial nickel for every time I've heard that recently. Of course, for those seeing the obvious life of leisure that I am now leading, its understandable. School has been out for a week, and the endless summer is stretching before me. My Facebook page is beginning to yield photos from this mountaintop or that, 'check-ins' at baseball stadiums, airports, and pubs. Ah, the life I lead! I don't fault the envy of some people, even the bitterness of a few. For the perception is, indeed, that the life in academia is one of plentiful days off, periodic week-long vacations, and, of course...the three months off in the summer. I will not try to refute the fact that there are definitely benefits to my job. I DO enjoy what I do (about 95% of the time) and can't imagine doing anything else right now. But, as any teacher who does his/her job correctly will tell you, the schedule during the school year is not one to be envied. There are times I long for a job where I can 'punch out' at the end of an eight hour shift, and not have to think about work again until I punch in again the next day. Days when I spend two unproductive hours driving home, knowing I have at least four more hours of work ahead of me when I get home. (Frequent comment from husband: "Are you STILL on that computer?) Weeks when I have multiple three hour long classes (that's a class that's three hours long, not three one-hour classes!)which take at least that long to prepare. Of course, my audience of yawning, bored, i-Pad and laptop armed students, are spending all their time on Facebook or texting, because face it, folks, its hard to 'entertain' for three straight hours and keep them all engaged. I bore myself sometimes. And the truth is, teaching is only a small part of what I actually do as a college professor, which is hard for most people to understand. Meetings, committee work, office hours, trying to do research or publish (which although isn't specifically 'required', is definitely part of my job) takes up probably more time than actually preparing lectures and standing in front of a class does. But, I digress. The point is, if the job of teaching was a 48 or 50 week a year job? Well, then you could 'take this job and shove it', because the toll that would be taken on one's mental and physical health would be outrageous. The pace would be grueling were it not for the summers off and the interspersed vacations. (Full disclosure....summers and school breaks are not totally 'off'...students email constantly with requests, and preparing for the fall semester starts at the beginning of August). So, if you ever feel tempted to say to me "Boy, I'd like to have YOUR job", I'd like to invite you to spend a week in my shoes...say, oh....mid February. After all....how hard can it be, right???

Yes, its that time of year....

Panic is setting in for our senior nursing students...new grad jobs are hard to find. Understandably, students are frustrated...cries of "Its not fair, I've worked SO hard!" and "I've sent our fifteen applications, and haven't gotten ONE interview" are echoing the halls. So, here's some advice to all you wanna be nurses out there. First, get over it. Welcome to the real world of the state of the economy. For years now, although the unemployment rate has been high, new grad nurses have enjoyed the luxury of being able to pick and choose from among a plethora of job offers. But now, for the first time in many years, health care is being affected. Understand that you are graduating with some basic skills, a license (hopefully) but you are still an expensive proposition for hospitals. It costs a LOT of money and time to orient a new grad to the point where they can work autonomously. Its all a matter of dollars and cents, don't take it personally.

So, what can you do? And although my students are sick to death of hearing me say these things, I am going to go down the list once again.

#1. NETWORK, NETWORK, NETWORK! Hospitals offer CEU programs. See a hospital you like? Call and ask what they're offering. Go to a program, introduce yourself to everybody and anybody. The person you impress MAY be your future nurse manager. Contact former students of your program who are working...they may have inside info of available jobs and would be happy to put in a good word for a fellow alum.

#2. Sent in an "online application"? Well, that's very nice...but follow it up with a hard copy. Preferably handed to the HR office in person, if possible. Hospitals get hundreds of online applications; take the time and effort to deliver something tangible.

#3. Do the research. Find out the name of the administrator (clinical leader, nurse manager, etc) of a unit on which you'd like to work. And send him or her a copy of your resume directly, with of course, a personalized cover letter.

#4. Don't be put off by "experienced nurses only" or "not hiring new grads". Hospitals may SAY that, but a week later may be in a position where they would be interested in considering your application. Apply ANYWAY.

#5. And this is probably the most difficult concept of all for students to accept. Be prepared to SETTLE. Please don't overlook positions in MD offices, clinics, rehabs, long term care, and (now, don't roll your eyes..) community health. I know its not your dream job, but you know what? The longer you sit around with that scarlet "NEW GRAD" logo emblazoned on your shiny new scrubs, the more competition you will have. A year from now, you'll still be a 'new grad', and your ambitious friend who took the job at Sunny Acres Retirement home will be an experienced RN who will have the opportunity to nail that hospital job.

So, good luck to all the about-to-be-new-grads out there. I have confidence that a year from now, you will all be working your butts off, looking back fondly on your last days as a nursing student, and longing for the academic schedule with its long winter break and summers off. And no doubt, you'll be making all your former nursing instructors proud.

Losing Davy Jones

The news didn't generate the public displays of wailing and grieving that were triggered by the deaths of Elvis, John, Michael, or even Whitney. But for the millions of fans of Davy Jones, the loss is being felt deeply and profoundly. And it is indeed a 'loss'; certainly not the dimension of loss being felt by his wife, his daughters and the rest of his family; but for us, a loss of a different kind. Those of us who spent two years of Monday nights watching the original show, buying Slicker lipstick by Yardley, writing "Mrs. Davy Jones" on the inside cover of our notebooks, have lost a part of our adolescence.

Reruns on MTV allowed us to share this with our own children, and many of us were fortunate enough to take these children to Monkees concerts...the concerts, of course, that we only dreamed of going to when we ourselves were twelve. Except for the reunion tours, Mickey, Peter, and Mike all kind of disappeared from our lives over the years, but Davy...he grew up with us.

We didn't see his name in the tabloids...didn't hear about brushes with the law, drug use or stints in rehab...stories that littered the careers of other celebrities, because there were none. He appeared at casino shows, state fairs, theme parks...always allowing us a trip back in time. Music critics have always found the Monkees and its members easy targets, but nobody made fun of Davy Jones more than he himself did. His shows were pure entertainment; song, dance, and groaningly bad puns.

The last two shows I attended, I was fortunate enough to sit right in front of the stage. I can tell you than nobody had any more fun than Davy did. Although I was lucky enough to meet him once, I never felt I could say I 'knew' him. But through Cindy Bryant and her Purple Flower Gang, I've come to know people who DO know him, and have found out that with Davy, the stage persona and the real persona weren't all that far apart. He genuinely, truly, cared for his fans; he was the real deal.

All this makes his death even more sad, if that is possible. Davy wasn't done yet. We knew that they'd never be another reunion tour; after all, tours are tough business even for the young bands. But there were going to be more solo shows, and I guess that is what I'm having the hardest time with. There will be no 'next time'

So, while people gather in Beavertown, PA this weekend for a fan-organized memorial service, those of us who can't attend will mourn Davy in our own way. Sharing fond memories with others who love him, playing his music, and remembering the boy who made our hearts skip a beat, who grew into the man who was loved and admired for his loyalty to us, his fans. And we will be smiling through our tears, grateful for someone who has brought us so much joy.

Rest in peace, Davy.

Things I am thankful for.....and Sports Adventures

Thanksgiving, of course, is a time for reflection. Naturally, there are the 'usual' gratitudes: I'm thankful for my three daughters, wonderful husband, my parents (and the fact that I'm so fortunate to still have them), and my work 'family'. But there is another family to which I belong, and to which I am forever grateful. It's a bit of an unusual family; not one of blood ties, certainly (unless you count the Red Sox blood flowing through our veins), but a family whose members gather once a year in Ft. Myers to play baseball at the Sports Adventures Red Sox Fantasy Camp. We all originally went for the same reason, I think...that is, to have an opportunity to 'play' at being a real major league baseball player, if only for a week. But the similarity stops there. Some of us, perhaps, were college baseball players being scouted by the majors, yet a career ending injury destroyed our dream. There have been others who have faced serious illness who have given this gift to themselves to celebrate their recovery. And for a handful of campers, Sports Adventures Red Sox camp has given the opportunity they were denied as young girls growing up in the pre-title IX days. There are almost as many 'stories' as there are campers. But since this post is about gratitude, I will tell you why I am grateful for being a member of this Sports Adventures family. It is a family of kindness; we celebrate the births of children and grandchildren, marriages, retirements and all the good times. We mourn when we lose a member of our Sports Adventure family, and we support each other when we lose a member of our real families. Every year we enroll a few new family members, are happy when they tell us 'this was the best week of my life'. We embrace and tolerate each others differences, quirks, moods, and (sometimes) practical jokes that go awry. We forgive, forget...and then go out and play two.

So, as we go into the holiday season, and we count our blessings, I know that, for a group of us, Larry Marino and his awesome organization will be on our list. And, of course, we're all counting down the days to our next 'family reunion' at the end of January!

ER: 2:00 am

I am not deaf, I am not blind.
I am not immune to your words, unkind.
My clothes are soiled, and I need a bath.
But what have I done to deserve your wrath?
It’s cold outside, and I have no bed.
I’m really not sure when last I was fed.
I DO know my name, and (maybe) the date.
But who is the President of the United States?
That’s always the hard one; I used to know.
Carter, I think? No, wait, don’t go!
I can tell by your face what’s going on in your head
“Just another drunk vet who’s gone off his meds”.
But I once had a home, and a family, too.
And a job, and a car, and future, like you.
I have a college degree, and I’ve written two books
So please refrain from those disgusted looks.
Because there’s really no difference between you and me
Except a little bad luck and some brain chemistry.

Time flies....

1975
“Marry my daughter? The answer is no.
Too young, no job, years of college to go.”
The father stood up, and pushed back his chair.
Sized up the young man, barely nineteen, with long hair.
“I’ve made my decision. Young marriages don’t last.”
The boy walked away, with his eyes downcast.

2010
The boy, now grown, takes the father’s arm
Helps him over the rocks, keeps him from harm.
The climb has been steep, despite the tram ride
But at the top of the mountain, there waits a young bride.
With another young groom holding her hand.
She smiles as she sees them, her grandpa and her dad.

New Grad Jobs.

So, I've been totally delinquent about keeping up with my blog, but I promise to be a more conscientious blogger in the future. Main topic of chatter with my students right now (other than the looming NCLEX!) is the current lack of job opportunities for new grads. Now, having a few (!) years under my belt in the nursing world, I've seen ups and downs in the nursing job market, but my students, being Gen Y-ers, only know the current job market, which is admittedly, pretty dismal for the students graduating this year. Not sure how best to reassure them that 'this, too, shall pass' when in many cases their expectations of what they will accept for a first job are pretty exclusive. In other words, they really want (and expect) to be offered an ICU, ED, L&D, name-your-favorite-specialty job, and don't understand that maybe..JUST MAYBE..they might have to 'settle' for something less than their ideal job. Its not a generation that is used to settling for anything; not their fault, for sure, but something society, and many of us as parents, with their best interests at heart, have unwittingly caused.

So, I guess the best advice I have to offer them is to aim high..but be open to other opportunities in nursing. They have many more years ahead of them to work, and any experience they get now (yes, even if its in a Nursing Home...although they are all shuddering at the thought of that!) will only make them more marketable nurses when something else opens up. And who knows...they might find their true calling may NOT be in the ICU, ED, L&D, name-your-favorite-specialty. Its time for you all to spread your wings and FLY! There is so much available to you in the field of nursing...don't limit yourself!

Be an informed consumer!

In medical news, the CDC is calling into question the 'safety' of the Gardasil (cervical cancer) vaccine...this is after repeated assurances to consumers that this vaccine was safe to give our young teen daughters. (http://abcnews.go.com/Health/CancerPreventionAndTreatment/story?id=8356717) One can assume that this vaccine underwent the lengthy FDA approval process, yet now, we as consumers are being provided with the news that this vaccine may not be as 'safe' as initially reported. However, this post is not about the Gardasil vaccine, but about the H1N1 (swine flu) vaccine, which is being rushed through the approval process in order to be approved for distribution this fall. (To read about the vaccine testing and approval process, go to http://www.cdc.gov/vaccinesafety/basic/safety.htm ) We're being asked to cheerfully roll up our sleeves to receive not one but TWO separate injections that 'may' provide protection about a flu which could 'possibly' mutate to become a more virulent and deadly illness. Am I the only one who remembers the mid-seventies Swine Flu vaccination fiasco, where the vaccine program was halted after millions of people had already received the first injection, and the side effect of Guillian Barre Syndrome (ascending paralysis) was discovered?

This is in no way meant to discourage people from receiving the vaccines this fall. However, each individual MUST take responsibility for making an informed decision regarding the H1N1 vaccine. There is an abundance of information on the valid information on the Internet (stick with the sites from reputable organizations, i.e. .gov or .org, or from various medical associations). Get educated, then make an informed decision for yourself and your family!

The more things change...

Many years ago (more than I care to remember!), after much pleading, my father agreed to take us (my two younger sisters, my mother and me) to a Boston Red Sox game. The year was 1966, the year the Impossible Dream Team was just a glimmer in Tom Yawkey's eye. I was a faithful watcher of televised games, always in black and white, of course, and often listening to Ken Coleman broadcasting the play-by-play late into the night on my transistor radio tucked carefully under my pillow. Younger readers of my blog may not believe this, but in 1966, attendance at Red Sox games was so pitiful that tickets were easy to obtain. My father bought the tickets at McCarthy's Smoke Shop in Brockton, and I began the painful countdown until the day I would get to see my favorite players in person.

The big day finally arrived, and off we went, Mom, Dad, and three daughters ranging in age 11 down to age 7. I remember the noise, the colors, the crowds, and the excitement, all swirling around me. But what I was not in any way prepared for was the site that greeted me as I walked up the ramp to our seats. Green grass, so bright, so perfect, it hurt my eyes to look at it. I realized then that I had never ever seen an image of the field that was anything but black and white. I stood at the top of the ramp, unable to move, in awe of the view of the field in 'living color'. At age 11, it was love at first sight; a true and passionate love for a field, a game, and the men who played it. I don't remember the details of the game, who won or lost, the final score, or even the name of the opposing team. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered is that I had finally been to Fenway. No matter where I lived, how far away I travelled, how many ballparks I visited, going to Fenway Park would always be special, and I would never forget that first trip up the ramp to see the green grass of Fenway Park.

Fast forward 40+ years. As a mentor for a city organization this year, I was matched with a mentee who has an interest in my career, nursing. So, we had a couple of breakfast meetings, went on a few field trips, and although she was pleasant and polite, even as the program was drawing to a close, I didn't feel like I had made any difference in her life....I had failed as a mentor! When an opportunity arose to take her to a Red Sox game, I jumped at the chance, selfishly figuring I may as well be getting something out of this arrangement, even if she isn't. So, off we went, on a cool night in May that threatened rain. After parking and walking to the concourse, I noticed her interest piquing. She was texting her frends about being there; a step in the right direction. I brought her over to watch Jim Rice and Dennis Eckersly as they were doing the pre-game show. She didn't know who either one of them were, but politely expressed interest. We walked into the Souvenir Store, where I bought a hat for my California daughter, then headed inside and bought sodas (yes, fellow Sox campers, soda, not beer!) before we sought out our seats.

As we walked up the ramp, her face brightened. Speechless, her eyes roamed the field surface, shining brightly green despite the gloomy weather, then scanned the skyboxes, brightly lit like a necklace around the inside of the park. She craned her neck to see the scoreboard above us, already showing amazing plays of the previous week. And she smiled.

I saw a little bit of myself that day, as I imagine my father saw a little bit of himself in me those many years ago. This is how Boston Red Sox fans are created; it is as much about the scenery as it is about the play, and hopefully, someday, I'll bring one of my own grandchildren here to bear witness to the incredible, awesome power of Fenway.

A "Good News" Story

As most of you know, I've played baseball at Red Sox Fantasy Camp in Ft. Myers, FL for over ten years. What started as a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity to meet and play baseball with some of the Red Sox stars of my youth has become an annual event, and I'm proud to say I'm now a member of a wonderful, if somewhat crazy, 'family' that gets together once a year to play baseball. I know most of you are too young to remember Bill Monbouquette, who pitched for the Sox from 1958-1965, but he's been a camp 'regular' for many years. A year and a half ago, Bill was diagnosed with leukemia, and following an arduous battle with chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, is now recovered and competing once again in charity golf tournaments; we're looking forward to seeing him again in February at Sox Camp. Bill and his wife Josephine are wonderful people, and I'm so happy that this story has had a good ending. Last summer, after participating in a bone marrow donor screening done by Dana Farber on his behalf, I wrote the following:

A Baseball Story, 2008

I know enumerable stories have been written about encounters with former Major League baseball players. This may come off as just another one of those; but as I look at the picture sitting on the desk in my office, I can’t help but think that this story is different….made more important, maybe, because time is running out, and I have unfinished business that won’t wait much longer.

This story dates back to a time when girls did not play baseball; pre-title IX. Two generations of girls have been born since then; playing sports with all the advantages that I never had. This story is not about that…not really. It’s about a memory, and a story that I have tried to tell several times to the man involved, but each time words fail me.

Baseball has been in my blood as long as I can remember. My grandmother Sadie, passionate Red Sox fan, passed the love of the game on to me. From the early sixties, I have only brief snapshots of memories; Gramma, pitching the ball to me in the back yard. Five years old, skinny and shirtless, I swing with all my might, and yelling “Strike!” when I make contact. I guess I confused baseball with bowling back then, and a different grandmother might have let it go. But to her, it was important that I understand the game, and she explained that a strike was good in bowling, but in baseball, it meant something very different.

Another snapshot: watching the Red Sox on a black and white TV, circa 1960, and the man with the funny name is pitching. Mom-boo-cat. Although the picture on the television is grainy, I have a clear memory of my grandmother saying that Mom-boo-cat was a great pitcher. Now, I’m sure my grandmother spoke of Ted Williams; she may have mentioned Earl Wilson and Frank Malzone. But to my five year old ears, those were ordinary names. Bill Monbouquette is the name I would remember.

Gramma died in 1988, at the age of 99. A stroke, and eventually a broken hip, would be the cause of her demise. But she left a legacy of passion for the game of baseball, passed down to her daughter, her granddaughter, and her great-granddaughter....which brings me to the reason for this story.

In 1996, I celebrated my fortieth birthday with ultimate fantasy for a Red Sox fan. One of only three women to attend Sports Adventures Red Sox Fantasy camp in Fort Myers, Florida, I was able to play baseball for a week with those who loved the game as I did. Gramma’s girl finally fulfilled her dream of playing for the Boston Red Sox! The bonus, of course, was getting to meet ex-Red Sox players…famous ones…like Carl Yastrzemski, George Scott, and Rico Petrocelli. But the man I wanted to meet most was the man with the funny name….Bill Monbouquette. I wanted to explain to him what meeting him meant to me, and what great memories his name evoked, but I feared that saying “You were my grandmother’s favorite player” would sound trivial. I didn’t want to insult the man by making him feel old, and secondly, I truly didn’t know if he indeed was her favorite player. But his is the name I remember her saying, and I can hear her saying today as clearly as I heard it when I was five years old. But the real reason for my reluctance is that I feared telling him would cause my throat to close up, and then tears would come. This, of course, was even before Tom Hanks said “There’s no crying in baseball.” Even so, I never told him, but always thought: “If only Gramma could see me now!”

Over the years, I’ve returned again and again to fantasy camp, and have gotten to know Bill and his wonderful wife Josephine. And, I have had other opportunities to tell him about how important that is, yet words have failed me each time. This year, things are different. Bill Monbouquette has cancer. We weren’t sure he would be able to come to camp, but he did. One night after dinner, he walked to the podium to a standing ovation, and told us about his diagnosis, the treatments, and the kindness of the Boston Red Sox and the people at Dana Farber. His throat closed up, and the tears came, and I knew then that sometimes crying in baseball is justified, especially when life has handed out a huge dose of bad luck.

But, back to the picture on my desk, the one I cherish above all others. It is not of Bill and me, but of Bill and my twenty-eight year old daughter Jen, taken this year at fantasy camp. He, despite chemotherapy, still is looking strong in his gray away Red Sox uniform, she in her home Red Sox uniform and wearing her catcher’s gear. She is looking up at him with great intent while he talks to her. I would like to think they were talking about baseball, but in all likelihood, he is talking to Jen, a veteran herself, about his pride in his own two sons, both serving our country. But the subject doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Gramma is looking down, seeing her granddaughter and great-granddaughter playing baseball with the Boston Red Sox, and they have become friends with the man with the funny name, Bill Mom-boo-cat. I know she’s proud. Its time to tell him how important that is.

Community Health Nursing (and a shout-out to Katie!)

In my previous post about job opportunities for new grads, I neglected to mention another career path in nursing that is oft-overlooked by students. Katie R., public health nurse extraordinaire, reminded me that community health and public health nursing are career paths that are available to new nurses. Health care is increasingly being provided in settings other than hospitals, whether it be in a client's home or in the booming business of assisted living or 55+ communities. (It's a little disconcerting to think I'm less than one year away from qualifying...for the 55+ community, that is). Partners has a year long orientation program for new grads who are interested in home care, which suggests that there is still a nursing shortage in that area. And if you doubt that public health nursing is a growing industry, then you've been living in a cave for the past month or so.....

Thoughts on launching my nursing students into the 'real world'

In conversations I've had with many of my nursing students over the past few months, one recurring theme has surfaced. With few exceptions, they are all without firm job offers following graduation. The nursing job market has been impacted by the recession, perhaps not as much as other professions, but impacted nonetheless. Hospitals are cutting back on staff, even in some cases laying off nurses (unheard of until recently!), and those that are hiring, are understandably reluctant to hire new grads that require a huge investment of money to orient. So, panic has set in! Almost unanimously, they have applied to hospitals, and are seeking positions in the ED, ICU, L&D, Pediatrics, etc...in short, critical care areas that require a much higher level of knowledge and experience than new grads possess. Now, perhaps with the nursing shortage of the past ten years, these positions were filled in desperation by hospitals who needed a warm body with "RN" after his/her name, sometimes with unfortunate results. But this is a different time in nursing, and hospitals are unwilling to take a chance the unknown quantity that is a new grad.

So, here is one last piece of advice (not that they ever listened to me anyway!) for all those new grads out there: I know your heart's desire may be working in a hospital in your 'dream' job, but the reality is, very few of you will land that position. You can stress out about, complain about it, whine about it, but (although doing those things may have gotten through the last two or four years) that's not productive. You WILL eventually get there, but for right now, take a look at rehab, long term care, assisted living, nursing homes, etc. (And for the student to whom I suggested this, who answered, "I didn't spend the last four years getting my BSN just to wipe old peoples' asses", well, there is a very hot place in hell awaiting you!). Most of you new grads are young....early to mid-twenties....and you have a long work career ahead of you. Start building your resume....in addition to working in long term care, do volunteer work, take CEU's in the specialty area of your dreams, network, join your state nurses association and attend meetings. The HR person who is going to give you your dream job is NOT going to knock on your door! And, you might just find that you like working in a non-critical care setting, because...and here's a newsflash for you....the growth industry of the future will be in caring for the elderly.

So, I wish all new grads out there the best of luck in their job search. Congratulations, and welcome to the always rewarding, sometimes frustrating, occasionally terrifying, field of nursing.

Apologies

In re-reading my first post, I realize that it portrayed me as a very dark, very unfunny, very serious person...which, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I am NOT. Interestingly, though, it was written just prior to two articles appearing about patient safety and medication errors occurring in Boston hospitals. Medication errors, now THEY are unfunny. Despite all of the safety measures and the new technology in place, medication errors happen with alarming frequency. (Any nurse out there who has never made a med error, raise your hand. Ah, I thought not.) Anyway, my apologies for the tone of the post. I do love my job as a nursing faculty member, although I would throw it all way if I were offered a contract playing second base for the Boston Red Sox. (Are you listening, Scott Boras?). I've pretty much closed the book on that idea, for many reasons, but primarily because I am now old enough to be the mother to most of the Sox players....although being Tim Wakefield's mom would have meant that I was a very precocious twelve year old.

Random......

I'm told blogging is easy and that anyone can do it. Perhaps the physical part of it is. It's easy enough to sit with the laptop and type. But the hard part is deciding what to write. It is said that one should write what one knows, so I will start there. I can say with complete confidence that I "know" nursing. I know what it takes to become a nurse, and I'm not talking about which courses one must take in order to graduate (although I am intimately acquainted with that part of it). The 'becoming' a nurse, now that is a little more difficult but not impossible to convey. I try to explain it to my nursing students, hoping my experience will save them a lot of time and grief later on, but of course, at this point in the academic year (with two months to go til graduation) anything I try to tell them is falling on deaf ears. They are about to leave a very sheltered, very controlled world in which experienced clinical instructors, preceptors, etc have watched over them, held their hands, kept them from making mistakes. The rules are about to change, and I fear for them. The world they are going to enter is one in which they will hold patients' lives in their hands. One in which a medication error can mean the difference between life and death. One in which a call bell left unanswered for too long can mean a patient falls and is seriously injured. One in which the shift is not six hours long, with an hour preconference and an hour postconference, but one in which they will hit the ground running and not stop to eat, drink, or pee for 8, 12, or even 16 hours. And in this new world, not everyone will be 'nice' to them. Their inexperience will be the stuff of staff gossip. The off-hand comment will be repeated by others until it bears no resemblance to the original, innocent comment. I want them to know this, not because I want to scare them, but because I want to make the transition less painful. They are all my children in a way, and like any good mother, I want to protect them from what I know is in store for them.