On Becoming an RN...

(source)

So I went to the local technical college today. Just to look around and take a tour of the nursing department.
Just in case.
Just in case I end up going the LPN route on the way to the BSN.
I can hear gasping.
stop. that.
It's not nice to gasp when someone is telling you something important to them.
please?
Because it is important to me.

Do I want to be an LPN?
no.
I want to be an RN. I have always wanted to be an RN. I have every intention of being an RN.
someday.
But sometimes...due to varying factors that this post is not about, there are different paths that one never thought they would take. And what does it really matter? The end goal is still the same.
Christa - RN. Registered Nurse.
nice. :)

How long have I wanted to be an RN? Only about thirteen years.
And I have tried. If you know me, you know I have tried. And tried. And tried.
And afterwards...I tried.
I have been a CNA. I have been a PCT. I have worked in the ER.
I have completed most of my pre-reqs for nursing school.
And I have had set backs of many kinds. Some health, some other things that this post isn't about.
But the desire has never left.
It is still right there in the center of my chest. Right over my sternum and kind of where the heart sits.
Wow. Even I know I sound like a moron right now. But it's the only way I know how to explain it.
Sometimes when I think about it, I can feel it. Right there on my chest. Just this huge desire.
I want to be a nurse. I've always wanted to be a nurse. Someday when the timing is right, I'll be a nurse.
One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.
Nursing will still be there when I arrive. (Thank you, to the sweet friend who reminded me of this.)

So, I went to the local technology center today to check out the LPN program.
And there I stood, in the middle of the tour, surrounded by soon-to-be medical professionals, and one really informative tour guide, and I cried.
Right there next to the beds and the fake, rubber, body parts.
Not the ugly-face, full-on bawling sort of cry.
Just the "someday I'll be doing this...there's that feeling in my chest again...thank you, God, for calling me" sort of cry.
One little tear.
No one knew but me.
And God.
And maybe the really ugly mannequin who needs a new gown.

Then on the way out the door, I said to that beautiful teenage daughter of mine who humored me and went along for the ride, "Hey, look,!!! Arms with IV's and fake blood!!"
To which she promptly replied, "yeah, real cool, Mom. Maybe you should just be in a horror movie."
She's a funny one, that girl.
Good day.
Goooooood day.