Monday, October 11, 2010
I'm stressed. School is stressing me out. Up until this point in my college career, I have enjoyed the scholarly mayhem that is academe. I have enjoyed the stress of doing well, of completing assignments on time, and achieving goals I had set for myself. I was a dedicated, hardworking smarty-pants that had no fear she could complete this and become a Nurse. That was before Anatomy and Physiology.
My life is being consumed by this class. My worry cycle, usually hung up on mundane things like the power bill, is now fully focused on this subject! The intensity of the class is beyond anything I was prepared for. I remember over the summer months, worrying about how I would handle seeing and working with cadavers.I had images of the TV medical student holding the vomit back with one hand while reaching for the door with the other. I should not have worried, their silent presence is peaceful in comparison to the chaos of my mind. They are a beautiful representation of how we are fearfully and wonderfully made, nothing to fear. Not that worry is ever good, but I should have concerned myself with how I would incorporate and memorize volumes of information, terms and knowledge into an already pretty full 42 year old mind. I am here to admit that things have begun to drop out the other side. Its like a vending machine: quarters in, candy out. Only the candy in my mind doesn't drop into a neat little containment section, it falls into vast empty space never to be retrieved. The candy happens to be rudimentary things that were learned early in life, and the ratio of importance seems to be about equal. For instance: Semitendinosus muscle in, how to tie my shoes...out. Not a serious issue. Easily fixed by Velcro or flip-flops. However: Spatial and Temporal summation of post-synaptic potentials in, how to speak in complete sentences out. A bit of a problem. My professor has taken to tilting her head and squinting her eyes while I speak. I believe she sees me like a species similar to the Dodo, silently wondering how I have lived this long. And while we are on the subject of my professor, may I just inquire how it is that this woman can turn her eyes toward me and I have to fight the urge not to pee my pants and roll over on the floor? I really cannot go into a retelling of actual events that have caused me to feel this way, as the recall may actually spiral me into a vivid post traumatic flashback from which I will likely never recover.
Yesterday morning though, as I sat and tried to hear God amidst the chaos that is my mind, I was reminded that it is not me. It is Him. It is not me. Its HIM. I am not doing this alone. I am not doing this under my own power. I have known that from the moment that God planted this seed of nursing into my mind. I have Fibromyalgia, I have Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease with a high probability of Lupus. Nursing school, and the career that follows does not seem the ideal career choice. But I didn't choose. I listened. And so I will continue to listen. And I will be reminded daily as I close my eyes and meditate on His word, that I am never alone. His power is made perfect in my weakness. With Him, all things are possible. I will continue to work hard, and I will probably even continue to stress over this class. But I am determined not to let the stress take over my life. I will do all that I can, without compromise to my time spent with my God or my family, and I will let him take care of the rest. Now....quick...someone email me and remind me... I've got the bread in the toasting machine thing, but I can't remember how to make it work.