AK Dad is here again to narrate some of his experiences in nursing school. In the last installment, I reflected on the low points of my life and how depression took hold of me shortly after I walked on the podium to get my Ph.D. certificate. I saw a psychologist who spoke life into me, who told me that enrolling in the two-year master of nursing programme is likely to advance my career as a psychiatric assistant. Well, I got accepted into the programme. The lecturers who I met during my screening warned me about the intensity of the programme. They discouraged full-time work. The idea of being an uber driver hit me. I could work anytime and still be a full-time student.
I sold my van and got myself a small Toyota. Soon this AK Dad with a Ph.D. would become an uber driver. And this uber driver would one day become a Registered Nurse. Well, I tried uber out to see if it was something I could do while studying. The night trips were my best. Lengthy conversations with passengers become stories I pondered on in my leisure time. I told the passengers about the Black River, the novel I had just completed. One of them, an accountant in her fifties, promised she would buy it. The money I made from uber was surprisingly enough weekly, but not as much as I made from my work at the hospital. I had a mortgage and bills to worry about. Somehow, after a few weeks, I stopped driving uber, hoping I would return to it if nursing school forced me to resign from my job. Well, AK Dad kept his job throughout nursing school. His manager approved all his leave requests so he could attend classes and clinical placements.
I was not a fast uber driver. I am not that fast at driving you guys around my nursing world. I need to take my time to show you all what nursing school looks like. I would drive you all through the ugly parts of the nursing world, where bullying and hardships are known to occur. Blacks don’t crack. AK Dad survived nursing school. It was the same AK Dad who did not attend class on the first day of the session. A call came through from a friend who was enrolled in the programme.
‘AK Dad, where are you?’
‘I am at work,’ I said.
‘Are you not doing the programme anymore?’
‘I am. I cannot wait to start?’ I said.
‘But you are not in class. It is the first day of class, bro.’
‘Are you serious? It did not occur to me that we were starting today,’ I said. Thank you, mate. Something is wrong with my head. I will see you tomorrow.’
After the brief call, I opened my email page on my phone. I intended to email the programe leader. To say what? That I was sorry to miss the first day of nursing school?