Work. Day One.

It was raining hard and it felt like I was in movie because I was hugging my long-time boyfriend in the dark, just outside my dormitory and I was sobbing real hard. I was inconsolable the last 30 minutes that we stood there under the rain. I can't remember the reason why I loved my profession and my new job. I was totally clueless why I was even there in the first place.

On-the-job training in nursing is nonexistent. We have been exposed to different areas in the hospital during our college days since it was part of our curriculum. I, however, chose to be employed to the hospital where our school was never affiliated with. I graduated from a state university in Manila, and the hospital where I am currently employed has its own university but a private one, to which my parents could not afford. Our trainings were different since we came from different universities thus, are hospital experiences as students are most likely to be different as well. We see them as fortunate bitches who had the luxury to pay 50 grand per semester and be spoon-fed with every information that they need, thus earning one of the top spots on the nurse licensure exam. Hell, the former committee head was a graduate there. (Well, when you don’t have money, you become bitter.) On the other hand, we like to see ourselves as impoverished students who strive hard to get the highest grade, as being admitted to our university instantly enrolls one to survival of the smartest and most kiss ass student.

One of the routines being practiced in our ward was that aside from preparing the due medications on your shift, you also have to prepare the medications for the next shift. This is a system that the staff nurses in our ward have learned to adapt with over time. I was an over enthusiastic newcomer at the time and became the most efficient "sponge" there is. I have got to absorb EVERYTHING. Although absorbing everything do have its cons too, you tend to crash.

When I was preparing my medications, which took me an hour to do so, because I was handling 10 patients (and each patient had 5-15 medications), so do the math, for a beginner it was one hell of a job. I mistakenly forgot to cut the blister pack of a certain medication that instead of preparing just one of Neobloc, I prepared two. Instantly, my senior who had a tenure of 4 years I think, scolded me in front of the other staffs, doctors, student nurses and doctors and that even the patient who was in the farthest room probably heard the whole incident. I was shocked that people can be ultimately mean and rude. It was like the bubble protecting me from the dark world of reality suddenly burst, and I was vulnerable to anything. She did not even ask me what could have been the reason why I made such mistake, she just went on and on about how unprofessional and worthless nurse I was trained to be. She was a graduate of the hospital's university by the way. I never met anyone who could talk so fast that no one had the guts to interrupt because she looked like she would bite if you do. Moreover, the fury in her eyes frightened me that I wondered if she even was rabid.

After what felt like years of feeling superior to these rich bastards, I became a miniscule person with a very hot, red face. It was sheer humiliation. It was the type of embarrassment that would make you run for your life and change identity. After she finished, everyone’s eyes were on me. I wanted to disappear. I wished to exchange places with our janitor on the far end of the hallway who is now also staring at me with pity in his eyes. Apparently, I awakened a sleeping monster.

I cleared my throat and heard my own voice croaking. I apologized and promise to do better on the following dreadful days to come. She just stared at me as if she heard nothing. There was still an hour left for my shift and I still had to finish my nurse’s notes. Since the doctors are now making rounds, the charts are no longer around. That would mean another hour of torture, waiting for the charts to arrive back to the station one by one. This rarely happens by the way, usually, we had to go our way finding each chart and locating the person last holding them. Photographic memory helped me with this. Thank God.

After 2 hours and 45 minutes, I was done charting half of my patients. Occasionally, I had to answer to questions, “Are you okay?” from other staff nurses. I already had one in mind. FINE. I remembered in Italian Job, that meant F-reaked out, I-nsecure, N-eurotic and E-motional. Perfect words to describe me now.

By 6 o’clock, I was done with everything and I had to bid goodbye (hopefully forever) to the others. I hurriedly went to the automated DTR where I had to log out and walked swiftly back home. Home, meaning the dormitory where I stay because I can’t commute 2 hours daily after that hard labor. My boyfriend was already there, waiting for me. He just said 5 words then everything was a blur, “How was your first day?”. It was the longest cry-marathon I had. I recollected saying, “I don’t want to go back there anymore. It was horrible.”

And those eleven words remained my status for the past 910 days that I spent there. Horrible was even an understatement.