Preparing for exams

My semester’s exams start this week. And like every semester, I am not looking forward to them. My first exam involves spiritually caring for patients. It has been quite interesting taking this subject and looking back over my notes; not just because I find the subject content interesting but also because I can identify myself in regard to spiritual pain. Not now, of course. But in the past. Everyone experiences spiritual suffering so it isn’t like I am confessing some great sin. J And of course, I have not experienced spiritual suffering just the one time either. But one situation definitely stands out to me as I prepare for the exam. It involves my moving to the SAH as a requirement of my nursing course. I loved Avondale and the people there so much and I resisted moving. I hated it with every pore of my body. Those of you, who know me well, know that I do not cope well with change and I can really stick my heels in concerning my opinion of the change involved. If people disagree with my opinions I can become quite fundamental in my beliefs and I do let them know. It has happened a number of times in my life and it has never been the other person’s fault. L When I moved to the SAH, I wrote an article in the Voice (the student publication at Avondale). I was told by a number of my friends that it was well written and funny etc. It expressed how I felt about the SAN so I didn’t mind it being published. One small problem: I actually insulted all the males who I study with. Many months later, I have realised that these particular males are devoted to breaking out of the stereotypical mode of male nurses and are competitive and are intellectual. So for me to say that they are not real males, unworthy of our (females) time was a huge insult. I was even called out of the dorms one day to discuss the article with one of the males in my class. Basically, writing was a great way to express my feelings but the article resulted in me being isolated even more in this new, strange environment.

I decided to seek help from trusted friends in the year above me. Second years would have experienced exactly what I was going through and they survived, didn’t they? They were very friendly and allowed me to vent (yet again) and they actually recommended that I talk to some of our lecturers and the chaplain for a bit of educated assistance (sounds better than professional counselling, huh?). So I went to Miss X. Miss X is a really nice lady who always says hello and appears genuinely happy working at the SON SAH. I showed her my article and vented a little … and felt slapped in the face when she basically told me that in time I would feel better and that I would eventually get over my longing for Avondale!!!!

This made me long for Avondale even more. It has only been through returning to Avondale on weekends, having a different schedule than my friends at Avondale, having social dynamics alter at Avondale, and having extremely patient friends at the SAH, that I have eventually found a balance (of sorts) between Avondale and the SAH. The reason why this particular incident arises from within my memory’s filing system is that Miss X taught my spiritual care subject. And in the subject we were taught to not say “time heals all wounds” and we should pray with our patient and encourage them on their journey to accept the undesirable challenge which is before them.

So even though I have enjoyed the subject this past semester, there is a cynical side to my studies. I understand the theory and I respect it. But to see my teacher do the opposite in practice makes me sad.

Who knows, maybe I was so lost in my own self-pity and fundamental belief about the greatness of Avondale, that I failed to hear her words of wisdom and encouraging suggestions. I would like to think so. Because then I can attempt to have an elevated respect for both the subject content and the teacher.

Preparing for exams

My semester’s exams start this week. And like every semester, I am not looking forward to them. My first exam involves spiritually caring for patients. It has been quite interesting taking this subject and looking back over my notes; not just because I find the subject content interesting but also because I can identify myself in regard to spiritual pain. Not now, of course. But in the past. Everyone experiences spiritual suffering so it isn’t like I am confessing some great sin. J And of course, I have not experienced spiritual suffering just the one time either. But one situation definitely stands out to me as I prepare for the exam. It involves my moving to the SAH as a requirement of my nursing course. I loved Avondale and the people there so much and I resisted moving. I hated it with every pore of my body. Those of you, who know me well, know that I do not cope well with change and I can really stick my heels in concerning my opinion of the change involved. If people disagree with my opinions I can become quite fundamental in my beliefs and I do let them know. It has happened a number of times in my life and it has never been the other person’s fault. L When I moved to the SAH, I wrote an article in the Voice (the student publication at Avondale). I was told by a number of my friends that it was well written and funny etc. It expressed how I felt about the SAN so I didn’t mind it being published. One small problem: I actually insulted all the males who I study with. Many months later, I have realised that these particular males are devoted to breaking out of the stereotypical mode of male nurses and are competitive and are intellectual. So for me to say that they are not real males, unworthy of our (females) time was a huge insult. I was even called out of the dorms one day to discuss the article with one of the males in my class. Basically, writing was a great way to express my feelings but the article resulted in me being isolated even more in this new, strange environment.

I decided to seek help from trusted friends in the year above me. Second years would have experienced exactly what I was going through and they survived, didn’t they? They were very friendly and allowed me to vent (yet again) and they actually recommended that I talk to some of our lecturers and the chaplain for a bit of educated assistance (sounds better than professional counselling, huh?). So I went to Miss X. Miss X is a really nice lady who always says hello and appears genuinely happy working at the SON SAH. I showed her my article and vented a little … and felt slapped in the face when she basically told me that in time I would feel better and that I would eventually get over my longing for Avondale!!!!

This made me long for Avondale even more. It has only been through returning to Avondale on weekends, having a different schedule than my friends at Avondale, having social dynamics alter at Avondale, and having extremely patient friends at the SAH, that I have eventually found a balance (of sorts) between Avondale and the SAH. The reason why this particular incident arises from within my memory’s filing system is that Miss X taught my spiritual care subject. And in the subject we were taught to not say “time heals all wounds” and we should pray with our patient and encourage them on their journey to accept the undesirable challenge which is before them.

So even though I have enjoyed the subject this past semester, there is a cynical side to my studies. I understand the theory and I respect it. But to see my teacher do the opposite in practice makes me sad.

Who knows, maybe I was so lost in my own self-pity and fundamental belief about the greatness of Avondale, that I failed to hear her words of wisdom and encouraging suggestions. I would like to think so. Because then I can attempt to have an elevated respect for both the subject content and the teacher.

Shaz's visit to a home

Shaz’s visit to a home

I am visiting a friend’s house.
I mean, I am visiting a friend’s home.
I walk in the door and am immediately greeted by her siblings and parents.
I sit down and notice the hand made cushion covers and the family photos on the wall.
I sit back and watch a movie; all the time observing how the siblings interact.
Later I assist the father with dinner; typical quick and easy food: pizza.
I notice the kitchen set out with the breakfast bar attached.
There is a cat that constantly walks between our legs until we feed her.
Everyone is comfortable in each other’s company; even to the extent of one brother telling the other that his fly is open.
After dinner, everyone is assigned chores; mine was wiping the clean dishes.
Then it was time to study and practice the piano.
The older brother is teaching the younger brother the piano.
Slowly the home shuts down for the night, with everyone going to their rooms to read, study, listen to music or play computer games.
Quiet reigns on my friend’s home.

Strange how everything that has happened throughout the evening has been so ordinary yet so odd.
I have been institutionalized for the past six years by boarding school and college dormitories, and whenever I go to a home I bask in the strangeness and the normalcy of it all.
My friend would find it all mundane, as you most likely to do too.
But to me, it is a brief but delightful taste of what my future home will be like; my future family; my future life.

In my future I will no longer have mass production of café food or recycled and reused decorations on the wall.
In my future I will no longer have the bathroom so far from bedroom or the laundry so far from the kitchen; every room will be right next door to each other.
In the future, I will live with my family; not a bunch of strangers or acquaintances.
In the future, I will have a dog who will keep the family and the home safe.
In the future, I will have a car and go where I want when I want.
In the future, I will look back on my time in institutions and long for the things I had then that I do not have now.