NursingZen

Talked to one of my best friends. For the first time, I expressed my confused feelings and rambling thoughts about embarking on the new journey. I admitted for the first time that a part of me hoped I wouldn’t get accepted to UCSF so that I could take a more laidback track at Samuel Merritt. A part of me also feels a bit guilty for taking the place of someone who might have wanted to get into MEPN more than I did.

“Are you trying to self-sabotage?” my friend asked.

I don’t think so. But I realized that if I keep focusing on feeling anxious and scared about the work ahead, I will only feel defeated before I’ve even tried. I must stop this.

I also realized that my apprehension is not about the work per se, but about the realization that much will have to be sacrificed this year. I won’t have time for any of the fun activities that I’ve been dabbling in these past few years. No more writing, reading, sewing, iMovie.

But while talking to my friend, I realized that I need to stop complaining about and fearing what hasn’t happened. I need to EMBRACE the amazing opportunity I have to be in the MEPN program. I need to get excited. I need to give myself 150% to this opportunity, otherwise why do it at all? What a waste the last two years of preparation would have been, what a waste the next few years will be if I don’t approach this journey with all my passion.

During my volunteer work at the hospital, Roel, an older Filipino male nurse said to me: ‘You can do anything and everything is worth trying because YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU WILL THINK OR HOW YOU WILL DO. Don’t listen to what others say; don’t let their anxiety or even pragmatism scare you.’

It’s sinking in a bit more. I just realized that I’ve been sleeping deeply the last two nights. When I woke up in the morning, I no longer woke up wondering about school. WHAT A RELIEF. It’s amazing. I realize now how disturbed I was all month. I was aware of it intellectually, but didn’t realize how great it’d feel to not have the mystery on my back.

I’m also thrilled to see how the week of deep cleansing prior to this day turned out to truly be the closing of one chapter in our lives and the opening of another.

I’m getting more excited. I can feel it in my bones. Especially when I think about my end goal, which is to work with low-wage workers. I couldn’t be more optimistic. Life is a trip.

As I opened my mailbox today, I marveled at how the body can act so independently of what my mind was trying to tell it. I told myself not to get anxious or excited, but it was useless. My heart was racing even though I believe my mind was fairly ambivalent. Knowing the sympathetic nervous system, my pupils were probably wide and my breathing quick and shallow. The envelope was slim, but it felt hefty with more than one piece of paper. I peered through the address window and saw something that looked like a form. A part of me knew then that this must be an acceptance, or a wait list, because why would a rejection ask for more info? I opened it and scanned for the “Congratulations!” that was in the letter that offered the interview, but didn’t see it. There was a split-second of disappointment, until I started reading from the beginning. There in no-frills yet kind of somber (I thought) language was my acceptance. I found the language a little strange and couldn’t quite put my finger on why. I didn’t shout and scream with ecstasy or break out into laughter. It was the way it was in my dream… a little ambivalent, a little anticlimactic. In retrospect, I think I was in mild shock. I hadn’t let myself believe I would get in b/c of fear of crushing disappointment. I think I also became instantly anxious – about whether I got in by the skin on my teeth, whether the professors would wonder if they made a mistake a year from now, whether I’d be able to handle the work….I think I became overwhelmed with both relief and nervousness.

I felt like the acceptance had happened to someone close to me but not to me exactly. Maybe that’s an apt feeling – half of me wants to identify with being a nurse; the other half with being a writer. I’m hoping my two selves will get along.