I passed my NCLEX in mid-august, the day before my little one turned 7 years old (which was the promise I made to myself when I first got accepted to the nursing program). It was a Saturday and I was scheduled to take it at 1pm. I woke up after two horrible hours of sleep and went through my list of tips given to me by my predecessors and the amazing Kaplan professor I was blessed with:
"Eat a hearty breakfast!"
"Don't drink too much coffee!"
"Screw it, if you are used to drinking coffee every morning, do it! Today is NOT the day to change your routine."
"Don't look at your notes"
"Ok, maybe glance at labs.."
"Wear the ugliest & comfiest clothes you can find!"
I left the house wired on 2 cups of coffee, dark circles under my eyes (that I had no intention of covering up), wearing the baggiest, warmest, long sleeved tee I could find & comfy tights with my new chucks. For some reason, I felt like new chucks would make me feel more "together" paired with an outfit that instead made me feel like I was a married woman of 10 years finally giving up on myself. I drove myself to the testing facility, which was thankfully only 20 minutes away, and just sat in the parking lot. I wanted to cry. I wanted to panic and drive home and forget all of this stress.. maybe just drive to some dark dive bar & drink myself into a mindless stupor so I could just FORGET that there was so much responsibility landing on my shoulders on that VERY day.
I didn't.
I walked up with my little packed lunchbox and fucking did it. I started to hyperventilate when I made it to question 76 and it was some easy pathophysiology question. I remembered the golden rule of, "if you know the answer, you aren't doing well". I literally put my head in my hands & had tears streaming down my cheeks at question 105, but I DID IT.
Then, question 126 and boom! It shut off.
Wait.. that was the only answer I actually knew.. what the fuck does that mean?? Did I fail?!
I quickly started to plan my disappearance from my social circle, social media, and life in general.
What should I delete first.. Instagram? No, Facebook. Definitely Facebook.
I cannot FAIL.. I've made it so far I just CANNOT FAIL. I quickly went out to my car, called a few girlfriends to talk me off the ledge and waited the 10 minutes until I could check to see if the website to sign up for the exam would let me sign up again. The trick was that if it didn't let you, it means you passed and a popup would appear that you could basically count on as your "Congrats! The pain and suffering is over! All of your years of studying and hardwork is.. kind of over!!" I literally felt every second pass by slower than the previous until I went to the sign up screen and .. NOTHING. The site was fucking DOWN FOR MAINTENANCE. I have literally never heard of this happening. I panicked until I realized I would have to spend the next 5 hours in the agony of not knowing. The panic turned into legitimate fear.
I am not one to be calm. I am the anxious friend you want to just tell, "shut the fuck up" because they won't stop going ON AND ON about the same issue they can do absolutely nothing about.
So there I am.. in a typical fuckstorm of a situation that I usually find myself in and cannot get out of, but instead of being in panic mode, I completely shut down. I walked with no emotion or purpose.. a complete zombie of myself and went to the nearest Irish pub for a drink (or 5). I didn't want to be sober if I didn't get the pop up at exactly 8:00 (since I ended my test at 3:15 and they went down for five hours of maintenance at 3:00. Yeah, the story of my life). I couldn't handle my zombieness just lingering in my house like some negative and lifeless energy for my son to feed off of, so I took us to a movie. I couldn't even tell you what it was, THAT is how unfocused on anything else I was. I didn't care that my son was eating his weight in overly salted popcorn, or that there were more sexual innuendos than I had expected.. I just needed to KNOW. It was PURE TORTURE. As the credits rolled up it was 7:45, and I got a text message from my friend that said the site was back up and working.
HOLY SHIT. Was I ready?!
I quickly signed in and attempted to sign up again when, sure enough, there it was: "the good pop-up"
For good measure, and just to reassure myself that it is indeed real and I AM ACTUALLY a registered nurse, I'll post it again.
THERE. There it is. No notification email, no congratulatory letter, nothing. Just the pop-up that changed my life. I cried UNCONTROLLABLY outside of the theater bathroom & once again inside my car. I do not use that loosely... I actually sobbed. I had black mascara running all over my face and sugar drunk couples looking at me like I was a crazy person, but I just didn't care.
I WAS FREE.
My son hugged and kissed me and said, "I'm so proud of you mommy, you did it!", and finally, after so many years of not feeling like I was getting anywhere, I actually felt like I did. I DID IT. I crossed the finish line and I deserved to cry my eyes out in joy (which I did for about 15 full minutes in my car, again, until my son whined about probably wanting something I wasn't going to give him, per usual). I went home, fixed my face and went to work, but with a different outlook on my whole stripper life: it was coming to an end.
Fuck you guys!! I don't care anymore because I'm a fucking RN now and I don't need you.
Yah. ABOUT THAT.
Fast forward exactly 2 months later from "NCLEX DAY". I have applied to over 30 positions, have had one interview for some sellout surgery center (but fuck it, work is work right?), and since I was supposed to hear from them by Tuesday and it is now Wednesday, I am just throwing that position in the "it wasn't meant to be" bin.
I guess I always pictured post-NCLEX life to be just as it is: beach days with friends, alcohol flowing at random times of the day without guilt & vacationing without reason. It is great, it truly is. I can't complain that I'm just miserable or that I'm not having a blast and enjoying my freedom. But, like I said, I am the anxious one. I am the one that my circle of friends watch out for because at a moments notice I can be hyperventilating with my joints locking up (respiratory alkalosis anyone?) and needing a paper bag & a shot of Ativan to bring me back to normal. So, with paper bag in hand, my anxious self is just that: ANXIOUS.
What will the next month bring me? Can I get into a new grad program? What if I take the first job I can get and I can't get into an OR position? Will I need to move out of state for work? How will that impact my baby panda?
I expected the hunt, but I didn't expect to feel hunted. I can only describe my first failed interview to be compared to that of an animal lured with such enticing bait only to be slain with no regard for humane practices. Could I at least have gotten a call? A rejection letter? I have applied for more than 20 actual hospitals and only 1 has even taken the time to send out a rejection letter.
IS NOT THAT THE HUMANE THING TO DO?!
Ugh.
The hunted. I am the hunted.
It's funny how I thought I might actually be the one with a choice, or at least the direction, but no.
I am merely a dumb deer.
I can only hope that I can change my strategy and start feeling like the HUNTER. A hunter who knows her intelligence and skill so that to choose wisely and aim precisely, and hopefully come home with a head to display on the wall. To be honest, I just can't be a stripper anymore.
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