There are only a handful of people (that read this blog) who remember our days working at the college infirmary. We charted, made beds, cooked for patients, brought them ice water, etc. The place was lovingly dubbed the Inferno. We were basically nurse aides and it was a sweet gig....most of time. I do recall the great "virus" that swept through campus. Every bed we had was taken, and we resorted to checking them into their dorms. Our nurse was making rounds, giving shots, and checking on people in and out of the dorms.
Turns out, it was catfish that was donated by a wealthy do-gooder of the school. It was simply food poisoning.
Everybody had to check in when they were sick if they intended to get their classes excused. It was amazing that the Inferno was full the week of mid-terms and finals. Hmmmmmm......interesting. What I liked is the fact that we saw everybody at their worst, (Sick and in their underwear!) and then saw them out on campus. People are people, some are just a little further up the food chain. I was reminded of the Inferno as I went to class this week. I had decided to take the required nurse's assistant class for the program I was pursuing. Things have changed since I got into the class: now the program I intend to get into doesn't require it. But, none the less, I WILL finish it. The class is one of those mini-sessions, which means, they cram everything into 5 weeks. That means I go to work, come home, change my baby-puked-on shirt, and head to class from 4 pm to 9:00 pm, three nights a week. I'm required by the state to have 75 hours and with clinicals at the end, I will.
Our teacher is a nice lady, and she does go by the book, which I appreciate. Four tests out of the book, working in a workbook, and a whole bunch of skills. So far, I've mastered the blood pressure, aseptic hand washing, making a bed, giving dental care, and transferring a patient.