16 years.

That’s 16 years of dreams that state they didn’t mark the HSC properly and we’d have to do it all over again.

Then I wake up. And I’ve done a degree. I’m at the top of my nursing pay grade.

So what’s happening?

1. Guilt

2. Who gives a fuck? 

The answer is indubitably, 2.

Whooooooooooooooo gives a fuck?

Apparently people I went to school with. Fuck that sky high.

As far as I’m concerned, I graduated from school/class clown to the one and only badass bitch ward clown.

I am the queen of my ward. The ward clown. But I am also that badass bitch that consultants remember and consult ME about patients on a daily basis.

Why? I am honest. I don’t fuck around. I communicate. I am not afraid of being a patient advocate and I will speak my mind.

I’m not asking people to be the class or ward clown, but I suggest that when people say, “you’ll never amount to anything,” meet them with a smile in 10 years and say, “bitch, you’re still a SUBSTITUTE maths teacher and I do…” In my case, I save lives.

That patient over there: BP over nothing, heart racing, temp skyrocketing. She’s septic. Call the code. Get the IVABs onboard. Get the cultures done. Cannulate that queen.

Whatever you can do to achieve autonomy in nursing is key. Tachy? Do a manual PR and ECG before the doctor arrives.

Do what you can within your scope of practice before you call the damn thing. Your registrars will salute you.

Could I have done medicine? Yep.

Did I wanna? Nope.