It is the second week of this semester and I can barely remember the first - I can barely recall actually 'doing' the first semester.
It's apparently my birthday soon. That means it's almost time for my placement. I am not ready to professionally care for someone, or someones.
The more study I do, the more paranoid I get. I'm terrified I'm going to say hello to a patient, sneeze and kill them.
Or infect them with my pen, is the latest paranoia CP1 has given me.
Or fuck up the math and OD them on blood thinners or I-don't-know-what.
I know I'm going to be supervised, and I know the chances of my actually killing someone is slim, but that doesn't particularly assuage my fears.
Always lovely to hear is that the $50 criminal history check we were told we needed last week is no longer needed. Yeah, that's cool. Not like I have anything better to waste $50 on, after all.
But on a happier note, it turns out that my 118 tutor has a background of remote nursing and has an invested interest in indigenous health issues. I fairly nearly fell in love.
Apparently tomorrow in the first prac, we're going to be washing our hands and playing with glow-in-the-dark stuff that'll show up the bacteria on our hands. I'm pretty pumped to draw a glow-in-the-dark moustache on my face.
I think, today at least, maybe I am okay.
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