I’ve given myself until February 2022 to start my Masters program. And it’s quickly approaching. The weeks up to Christmas seem to fly by and then I’ll only have another month before I begin my classes. I’m still apprehensive about returning for my masters. I guess that’s normal, right? It’s funny only in the past 5 years of my nursing career have I really thought of myself as a “real” nurse. When I was a stay at home mom I was always, “Thomas’ Alyssa’s, Daniella’s or Samantha’s mom.” My dad told me when I had Thomas that I no longer had a name I was now “Thomas’ mom”. He was right. Even when I worked part time as a nurse I didn’t really feel like a nurse. Maybe when I worked at the pulmonologist/allergist’s office because I became adept at identifying lung sounds and I did a lot of patient teaching for use of medications and allergy testing. Too bad the pay was crap.
So these days I find myself doing all sorts of different nursing tasks. The student population at my school is so diverse. There are high functioning students with typical health need’s and there are medically fragile students. The medically fragile students are on a sort of spectrum with some more fragile than others. Working here sort of changes your view of what healthy means. There is a nursing theorist, Betty Neumann who theorized that health is a continuum. I totally get that. There are many students that are fed via a gastrostomy tube or are diagnosed with seizure disorder or metabolic disorder who are “healthy” according to their personal continuum. I find that interesting.
So in February, if all goes well I’ll begin the Master of Nursing program. I’m not sure where I’ll go with this Masters degree. If I’ll look for another position for work, stay with the city, I have no idea. Right now I have no desire to leave where I currently work, any change in job right now would be a lateral move and I wouldn’t be off weekends and holidays, something I’ve grown so very fond of.