May 20, 2017 | My First Week at 6A Medical-Surgical Station, a Code Blue, and the Uncomfortable Business of Becoming a Staff Nurse

The sixth floor did not bother with a gentle introduction. There was no ceremonial welcome, no thoughtful allowance for first-day nerves, and certainly no opportunity to stand quietly in a corner while I familiarised myself with my new surroundings. Instead, 6A Medical-Surgical Station welcomed me with the unmistakable energy of a hospital ward that had several things requiring attention and very little interest in whether its newest staff nurse felt emotionally prepared. I had imagined my first day would involve learning the routines, meeting colleagues, and perhaps demonstrating enough competence to avoid looking completely lost. The ward, apparently, had reviewed my expectations and rejected them on the grounds of being insufficiently ambitious. Before I could become comfortably acquainted with my new working environment, I was already discovering how quickly an ordinary nursing shift could become something much more demanding.

I had waited a long time to reach this point. After completing the Comprehensive Skills Assessment at St. Vincent General Hospital, going through examinations, return demonstrations, clinical exposure, and the interview, I had endured the uncomfortable period of waiting to hear whether I had been accepted. The process had tested my patience considerably, particularly because returning to nursing meant more to me than simply obtaining another job. I wanted to rebuild my professional confidence, develop my clinical skills, and become part of a working environment where I could continue learning. When I finally received the good news, I was delighted. I had earned the opportunity to begin another chapter in my nursing career, although I had not yet fully appreciated that the chapter would apparently begin at the speed of an emergency response.

There is a particular kind of nervousness that accompanies the first day in a new clinical area. You arrive carrying the knowledge you have acquired through education and previous experience, but you are also conscious that every hospital possesses its own systems, routines, expectations, and ways of organising care. You want to appear capable without pretending to understand things you have not yet learned. You want to ask questions without becoming a permanent inconvenience to your colleagues. Most importantly, you want to perform your responsibilities safely while avoiding the dreadful feeling of being the person who repeatedly needs directions to locate something everyone else seems to find effortlessly.

My new working area was 6A Station, a medical-surgical ward where the ordinary demands of caring for patients could change considerably throughout a shift. I was excited to begin, but the excitement came with a healthy amount of apprehension. Clinical nursing involves responsibilities that cannot be approached with enthusiasm alone. Patients require appropriate assessment, treatment, monitoring, documentation, and communication between members of the healthcare team. There are medications to understand, procedures to become familiar with, and changes in patients’ conditions that require timely recognition and escalation. I knew these things from my training, but I also knew that applying them within the pace of a busy ward would require continued learning.

My first shift was what we nurses affectionately describe as toxic. It is a word that can sound rather alarming to somebody unfamiliar with hospital slang, but in our working vocabulary, it often means an exceptionally busy or demanding duty, the kind that makes you question whether time has begun moving differently within the building. I had hoped for an opportunity to settle into the new environment gradually. Instead, the ward decided that learning through immediate exposure would be a far more efficient teaching strategy. Looking back, I can laugh about the experience, although I suspect my first-day self would have preferred considerably less excitement.

Among the most memorable events was a Code Blue. There is something about an emergency call that immediately changes the atmosphere of a clinical area. Ordinary conversations become secondary, attention shifts towards the patient requiring urgent assistance, and the importance of clear roles and coordinated teamwork becomes unmistakable. Even with previous clinical exposure, encountering an emergency during the first day in a new station was intimidating. I was still learning the routines and becoming familiar with the team, yet here was a situation that required everyone involved to understand their responsibilities and respond appropriately.

I remember becoming particularly aware of how much effective emergency care depends upon teamwork. Clinical knowledge is essential, but so are communication, preparation, and the ability to recognise when guidance or additional support is needed. A newly assigned nurse cannot reasonably be expected to possess the same familiarity with the station as colleagues who have worked there for years. I was grateful to be surrounded by more experienced staff whose understanding of the environment helped provide direction during demanding moments. The experience reminded me that competence involves recognising the responsibilities appropriate to one’s role rather than attempting to appear knowledgeable about everything.

Another difficult part of the shift involved a patient whose significant others had made a decision concerning resuscitation. It was one of those moments that reminded me how emotionally complicated healthcare can become, particularly when serious illness places families in circumstances they never expected to face. The discussion concerned allowing natural death and the decision not to attempt cardiopulmonary resuscitation. I understood the clinical importance of such decisions, but witnessing the emotional circumstances surrounding them was different from studying their principles in a classroom.

Decisions about resuscitation require careful consideration of the patient’s condition, wishes, and best interests, together with appropriate clinical assessment and communication. Families may have important knowledge of a patient’s preferences and can be deeply affected by these discussions. As a nurse, I was still learning how to remain compassionate and composed when people were confronting difficult decisions. I wanted to be respectful without assuming that I fully understood their experience. I also recognised that a decision not to attempt CPR does not mean abandoning care. Comfort, dignity, symptom management, and appropriate treatment remain essential responsibilities, even when the goals of care have changed.

What stayed with me was the emotional weight of the situation. There are moments in healthcare when the atmosphere becomes quieter despite the surrounding activity. People may be processing information they never wanted to receive, and ordinary expressions of reassurance can suddenly feel inadequate. I have learned that compassion does not always require a perfectly chosen sentence. Sometimes it involves listening, remaining respectful, and recognising when the people around us need clear information, privacy, or support from the appropriate members of the healthcare team. I was reminded that nursing brings us into contact with experiences that cannot be made simple through professional terminology alone.

I had entered the shift wanting to prove that I could adapt to my new station. By the end of it, I had been reminded that adaptation would involve far more than memorising the location of supplies or learning the usual sequence of ward responsibilities. I needed to understand how the team communicated, how priorities were established, and how to remain attentive when several things demanded consideration at once. It was overwhelming at times, particularly because everything felt unfamiliar, but the experience also made me appreciate the value of proper guidance during the early stages of employment.

Fortunately, I had a mentor who made those first few days considerably more manageable. His name is Sir Weslee, one of the senior nurses in the area, and I am genuinely grateful for his patience and willingness to teach me. There is something reassuring about having an experienced colleague who understands that a new staff member may require explanations, demonstrations, and occasional reassurance before becoming comfortable with an unfamiliar routine. I wanted to learn as much as possible, but I was also conscious of not wanting to interfere with his own responsibilities. Somehow, he managed to guide me through the working area while helping me build confidence in the tasks I was learning.

I think good mentorship is one of the most valuable things a new nurse can experience. Textbooks explain clinical principles, and training provides essential foundations, but an experienced colleague can help connect that knowledge to the practical demands of a particular working environment. A mentor can demonstrate how the team organises responsibilities, explain institutional procedures, and encourage appropriate questions before uncertainty becomes a problem. I appreciated Sir Weslee’s support because it allowed me to learn without feeling that every unfamiliar situation was proof of inadequacy.

asking questions

I have always believed that asking questions is an important part of becoming a competent professional. There are occasions when pride encourages people to remain silent because they worry that admitting uncertainty will make them appear inexperienced. I understand that feeling, particularly during the first week in a new job when everyone seems to know exactly what they are doing. But nursing is not a profession in which guessing should be mistaken for confidence. If I am uncertain about a medication, procedure, or aspect of patient care, I would rather ask an appropriate colleague and verify the information than make assumptions that could compromise safety.

This became one of my most important lessons during the week. I wanted to take initiative, but I also needed to understand the difference between being proactive and attempting something beyond my current competence. Taking initiative does not mean rushing into unfamiliar responsibilities simply to demonstrate enthusiasm. It means recognising opportunities to participate appropriately, preparing carefully, and seeking guidance when necessary. As I became more familiar with the station, I found that every supervised experience helped strengthen my understanding of the work. Little by little, tasks that initially seemed intimidating became more manageable through practice and feedback.

Time management

Time management was another skill I quickly discovered would require considerable attention. During a busy medical-surgical shift, several responsibilities may need to be addressed within overlapping periods, and the order in which they are completed matters. I was accustomed to the general demands of nursing, but every new station has its own workflow. I needed to learn how to organise my responsibilities without becoming so focused upon one task that I overlooked something more urgent. This was especially challenging during the first week because even ordinary activities could require additional time while I became familiar with the environment.

ability to anticipate

I have noticed that experienced nurses often possess a remarkable ability to anticipate what may be needed next. They organise their work, recognise priorities, and adjust when circumstances change, sometimes with such apparent ease that it is tempting to assume the process requires little effort. Watching them has reminded me that efficiency is usually developed through experience rather than acquired automatically upon receiving a professional licence. I hope to become more organised as I gain confidence in the area. For now, I am learning to be attentive, prepare carefully, and accept that becoming familiar with a new routine requires patience.

And then there was the charting.

Documentation

I suspect documentation deserves its own official chapter in every nurse’s professional autobiography. There is something extraordinary about how much time can be devoted to recording the care we provide, especially when the ward is busy and several other responsibilities are competing for attention. Documentation is essential because it supports continuity of care, accountability, and communication between healthcare professionals. I understand its importance completely. Nevertheless, there are moments when I look at the amount of charting required and wonder whether hospital stationery possesses the ability to reproduce when nobody is watching.

I have also discovered that documentation can remain in one’s thoughts long after a shift has ended. There is a peculiar form of anxiety that appears when a nurse suddenly remembers something from work and begins questioning whether it was properly recorded or communicated. I suspect many healthcare professionals have experienced a similar moment, particularly during the early stages of their careers. It is one of the reasons I am trying to develop good habits from the beginning: documenting accurately and promptly, reviewing responsibilities appropriately, and asking for guidance when I am uncertain about local requirements. I would rather establish careful routines now than spend every evening mentally reconstructing the contents of a patient’s chart.

The physical demands of nursing have also been impossible to ignore. A busy shift can involve prolonged periods of standing, walking between patients, assisting with care, and responding to changing priorities. There are moments when the work becomes so absorbing that ordinary personal needs are temporarily pushed aside. By the time duty ends, sore feet and exhaustion can make even simple activities feel unnecessarily demanding. I knew nursing was not an easy profession, but returning to a busy medical-surgical environment reminded me how much energy is required to provide care consistently throughout a shift.

Yet there is something deeply satisfying about the work, even when it leaves me tired. I enjoy the opportunity to learn, interact with patients, and recognise how clinical responsibilities contribute to their care. There are moments when the ward feels intimidating because I am still developing confidence, and others when an experience reminds me why I wanted to become a nurse. I think those contrasting feelings can exist within the same shift. Nursing does not need to be effortless to be meaningful, although I would certainly appreciate the occasional opportunity to finish a duty without feeling as though my entire body has submitted a complaint.

Listening carefully

Talking with patients has become another important part of my learning. It is easy to concentrate upon diagnoses, medications, and procedures, particularly when one is trying to become familiar with the responsibilities of a new station. But patients possess knowledge of their own experiences that cannot always be understood through laboratory results or medical notes alone. Someone living with a chronic condition may recognise changes in symptoms, understand how previous treatments affected them, or describe concerns that are important to their care. Listening carefully can help us understand their perspective and contribute to more appropriate assessment and communication.

I want to become better at building therapeutic relationships without allowing the demands of the shift to reduce every conversation to a list of questions. I know that time can be limited in a busy ward, and not every interaction allows for an extended discussion. Still, I believe the way we speak to patients matters. A clear explanation, a respectful response, or a moment spent listening can influence how someone experiences hospital care. I hope that as I become more comfortable with the technical responsibilities of the station, I continue developing the interpersonal skills that are equally important to nursing.

recognising how little control we have over some outcomes.

One of the things I find most challenging about the profession is recognising how little control we have over some outcomes. We can provide care according to our responsibilities, respond to changes, and work with the healthcare team, but illness does not always follow a predictable course. Patients may deteriorate despite appropriate interventions, and families may face circumstances that are difficult to accept. Experiences such as the Code Blue during my first shift reminded me that clinical competence is essential, but it does not provide complete control over what happens. Learning to manage that uncertainty is part of becoming a healthcare professional.

I have been thinking about a saying I encountered concerning nurses and the desire to help people who are suffering. The words suggest that some people enter nursing because they recognise pain in the world and hope that caring for others will also help them understand their own. I find the sentiment moving, although I would not want to suggest that nurses must possess personal suffering to become compassionate or that caring for patients can automatically resolve our own difficulties. Still, I understand the attraction of doing work that allows us to respond constructively when somebody needs assistance. There is meaning in being able to contribute something useful during circumstances that may feel frightening or uncertain to the person receiving care.

nurses are not responsible for repairing every difficulty they encounter

At the same time, I think it is important to recognise that nurses are not responsible for repairing every difficulty they encounter. We can provide professional care, support patients and families, and contribute to treatment, but we cannot promise that every situation will have a favourable outcome. There are limits to what any individual healthcare professional can accomplish. I am learning that recognising those limits is part of responsible practice rather than evidence of insufficient dedication. Compassion should encourage us to provide the best care we can, not convince us that every unfortunate outcome represents a personal failure.

perspective

My first week also reminded me how important it is to maintain perspective when everything feels unfamiliar. There were occasions when I wondered whether I would ever become comfortable with the station’s routines. I watched experienced colleagues moving confidently through their responsibilities and hoped that I would eventually develop a similar level of familiarity. It can be discouraging to compare oneself with people who have spent years developing their skills, particularly when one’s own progress feels slow. But I know that competence is built through learning, supervision, and repeated experience. I cannot reasonably expect to possess every advantage of an experienced nurse during my first week.

I have begun appreciating the small improvements that occur through ordinary practice. Recognising where equipment is kept, understanding the sequence of particular responsibilities, becoming more familiar with colleagues, and feeling less hesitant about asking questions may not seem like extraordinary achievements. Yet they contribute to my confidence and allow me to participate more effectively in the work of the station. I am trying to notice these developments rather than concentrating exclusively upon everything I still need to learn. There is value in recognising progress, even when the process feels far less impressive than I would prefer.

open to constructive feedback

I also want to remain open to constructive feedback. It is never particularly enjoyable to discover that something could have been done better, especially when one has made a sincere effort. But I understand that feedback is essential to professional development. I would rather receive guidance that helps me improve than continue repeating an unsuitable approach simply because nobody has explained the problem. I hope to become better at accepting corrections without allowing embarrassment to overshadow their usefulness.

Sir Weslee’s mentorship has made this easier. His patience and clinical experience have helped me approach unfamiliar responsibilities with greater confidence. I appreciate being able to observe how he works, ask questions, and gradually understand the expectations of the station. There is something encouraging about being supported by somebody who recognises that becoming competent takes time. I hope that as I develop professionally, I remember the importance of the guidance I received during these early days and eventually offer similar support to colleagues who are beginning their own journeys.

belonging

The week has also made me think about what it means to belong somewhere. When I first entered the station, I was aware of being new. I did not yet know every colleague, every routine, or every practical detail that experienced staff seemed to manage without hesitation. There is a certain awkwardness in joining an established working environment, particularly when the people around you already share familiar habits and professional relationships. I wanted to contribute meaningfully without expecting immediate familiarity. Gradually, however, the station began feeling less intimidating. I was learning the routines, recognising colleagues, and becoming more comfortable with the responsibilities assigned to me.

Perhaps belonging develops through these ordinary experiences rather than through a single welcoming gesture. We become familiar with a place by participating in its routines, learning from the people around us, and gradually understanding where our responsibilities fit within the larger team. I do not expect to become completely comfortable after only one week, but I am pleased that the initial nervousness has begun making room for something more reassuring. I am starting to feel that 6A can become a place where I develop professionally and form meaningful working relationships.

I find that particularly satisfying because returning to nursing has required effort and patience. There were periods when my professional path took me away from regular hospital practice, and I sometimes wondered how the transition back would unfold. Completing the assessment process and receiving an offer gave me the opportunity to begin again, but it did not eliminate the ordinary challenges of adapting to a new environment. Now, after surviving my first week, I feel grateful that I pursued the opportunity. The experience has been demanding, but it has also reminded me how much I enjoy learning within a clinical setting.

Of course, I am not going to pretend that every moment has been wonderful. There were times when the workload felt overwhelming, when I struggled to organise my thoughts, and when I questioned whether I was progressing quickly enough. A Code Blue on the first day is hardly the gentle introduction I would have requested, and the emotional challenges of caring for seriously ill patients have reminded me how much maturity the profession requires. But I have also encountered supportive colleagues, opportunities to learn, and moments that made me proud to be part of the nursing team. These experiences belong together, and I think acknowledging both sides provides a more accurate understanding of what the week has been like.

I have always admired nurses who remain composed during demanding circumstances. Their ability to communicate clearly, recognise priorities, and provide care while managing a heavy workload can appear almost effortless. But I am beginning to understand that their composure is not necessarily evidence that the work has become easy. It may reflect years of developing skills, learning from difficult experiences, and discovering how to respond appropriately when circumstances change. I hope that with continued practice and support, I can develop the same steadiness without losing the curiosity that encourages me to keep learning.

There is something particularly encouraging about recognising that I survived a week I initially found intimidating. It does not mean I have mastered the station or that every challenge ahead will be manageable without assistance. It simply means I have taken the first steps towards becoming familiar with my new role. I have experienced demanding clinical situations, received guidance, asked questions, and learned more about the responsibilities awaiting me. I am proud of that progress, particularly because I know how nervous I felt before beginning.

I think the coming weeks will teach me a great deal more. There will be procedures to understand, routines to become familiar with, and situations requiring careful judgement. I will probably encounter moments of uncertainty and occasions when I need additional guidance. There may be shifts that leave me physically exhausted and others that provide a welcome sense of accomplishment. I hope to approach them with a willingness to learn, recognising that professional confidence develops gradually through responsible participation rather than through the determination to appear permanently capable.

There is also something I want to remember about the emotional side of nursing. During my first shift, I encountered circumstances that reminded me how vulnerable patients and families can feel within the hospital environment. Clinical emergencies and difficult decisions are part of healthcare, but the people experiencing them are not simply examples of medical conditions or professional learning opportunities. They are individuals with relationships, histories, and concerns that extend far beyond our working hours. I want to remain attentive to that distinction as I become more familiar with the technical demands of the profession.

It is tempting to become focused upon completing tasks, particularly when the workload is heavy and time seems limited. But I hope I continue remembering that the purpose of those tasks is to support the care of actual people. Documentation matters because information must be communicated accurately. Clinical observations matter because changes in condition require recognition. Medications and procedures matter because they form part of treatment and care. These responsibilities are not simply items on a list to be completed before handover. They are connected to the wellbeing of people who depend upon the healthcare team to act competently and compassionately.

I have also been reflecting upon the responsibility that comes with wearing a nursing uniform. It is easy to admire the profession from a distance, particularly when it is described through words such as courage, sacrifice, and dedication. Those qualities can certainly be present in nursing, but the daily reality also involves ordinary discipline, careful communication, and tasks that rarely attract public recognition. There is little glamour in accurate documentation or making sure important information reaches the next shift. Yet these are precisely the activities that contribute to safe and continuous care.

I do not need every working day to feel extraordinary. Sometimes the satisfaction comes from completing responsibilities properly, recognising that I have learned something useful, and knowing that I have contributed to the work of the team. I am beginning to appreciate those quieter forms of accomplishment. They may not provide dramatic stories for a blog post, but they are important parts of becoming a reliable professional.

Still, I suspect there will be plenty of stories to share as I continue working in 6A. A medical-surgical station offers a wide range of experiences, and I am interested in reflecting upon the clinical lessons, practical challenges, and personal observations that accompany the work. I want to use this little corner of the internet to document my professional growth without compromising the privacy and dignity of the people I care for. There is value in sharing lessons from nursing, but I believe those reflections should remain respectful of the patients and families whose experiences form part of our working environment.

I also hope that writing about these experiences will help me understand my own development. There is something useful about looking back upon a demanding shift and considering what I learned, what I found difficult, and what I might approach differently in the future. Reflection allows us to examine situations without assuming that every challenge represents failure. I want to develop that habit because nursing requires lifelong learning, and I suspect I will continue encountering experiences that challenge my assumptions long after I become more familiar with the station.

One week is a relatively short period in a professional career, but it can feel remarkably significant when everything is new. I have moved from waiting anxiously for the outcome of an assessment to participating in the daily responsibilities of a hospital ward. The transition has been demanding, yet it has also given me a renewed sense of professional purpose. I am grateful for the opportunity, the guidance I have received, and the colleagues who have helped me begin adjusting to the environment. I know there is still a great deal to learn, but I am looking forward to developing greater confidence through experience.

I began this entry describing how the sixth floor welcomed me without much concern for my first-day nerves. Looking back, I think that experience may have been an unusually accurate introduction to the unpredictable nature of clinical nursing. Hospitals do not arrange their emergencies according to the convenience of newly assigned staff, and patients’ needs cannot always wait until somebody feels completely prepared. Our responsibility is to respond appropriately within our competence, communicate effectively, and seek support when the situation requires it. I was fortunate to begin with colleagues who could guide me through an unfamiliar environment, particularly during such a demanding shift.

I cannot claim that my first week transformed me into an exceptionally confident nurse. There are still things I need to understand, and I know that future duties will introduce challenges I have not yet encountered. But I can recognise a difference between the person who nervously arrived for her first shift and the one sitting here reflecting upon the experience. I have learned more about the station, become familiar with some of its routines, and begun developing confidence through supervised practice. I have also been reminded of the emotional responsibilities that accompany clinical care, particularly when patients and families face difficult circumstances.

Perhaps that is enough for one week. I do not need to become an expert immediately, nor do I need to interpret every unfamiliar situation as evidence that I am inadequately prepared. I would rather continue learning carefully, ask questions when necessary, and appreciate the guidance available to me. There will be opportunities to take on greater responsibilities as my competence develops, and I hope to approach them with the humility required by a profession where patient safety must always remain important.

I am particularly grateful to Sir Weslee for his patience during these early days. I know that guiding a new colleague requires time and attention, especially when the station is already busy. His willingness to teach has made the transition easier and helped me feel more comfortable asking questions. I hope to remember that generosity as I gain experience, because professional knowledge becomes even more valuable when it can be shared responsibly with others.

And to my fellow nurses, a belated happy Nurses’ Week! I have always admired the people who continue providing care through demanding shifts, unexpected emergencies, and the many ordinary responsibilities that rarely receive much attention outside healthcare. Our work can be physically tiring and emotionally challenging, but it also offers opportunities to make meaningful contributions to patients’ lives. I hope we continue supporting one another, recognising our limitations, and developing the knowledge and skills necessary to provide safe, compassionate care.

As for me, I am beginning to love my new working environment. I enjoy recognising familiar faces, becoming more confident with the station’s routines, and gradually feeling that I have a place within the team. There will undoubtedly be difficult shifts ahead, and I suspect I shall continue complaining about documentation whenever it appears to multiply without warning. But I am happy to be back in nursing, learning through experience and building upon the professional foundation I worked hard to establish.

It is strange how quickly a place can begin changing from unfamiliar territory into somewhere associated with routine, responsibility, and belonging. A week ago, 6A was simply the name of the station where I would begin my new role. Now, it is the place where I experienced my first demanding shift, received guidance from a patient mentor, and began learning the practical realities of working as a medical-surgical staff nurse. I hope that in the months ahead, I will look back upon these early experiences with appreciation for how much they contributed to my development.

There will be other Code Blues, difficult conversations, demanding responsibilities, and moments when I question whether I have remembered everything necessary before handover. I cannot predict exactly what each shift will bring, but I hope to approach the work with greater confidence as I gain experience. I want to become a nurse who is clinically competent, responsible, attentive to patients, and willing to continue learning even when the process becomes uncomfortable.

For now, I am proud simply to have completed my first week. The sixth floor may have introduced itself rather enthusiastically, but I have survived its opening performance and am beginning to appreciate the people and responsibilities that make it a meaningful place to work. I arrived nervous and eager to learn, and I am leaving the week with sore feet, several important reflections, and a growing sense that I can find my place here.

I suppose that is a perfectly respectable beginning.

And if the station could arrange a slightly less dramatic introduction to my second week, I would be enormously grateful. I have already discovered that emergencies do not consult our preferences, but surely there is no harm in expressing a modest request. Perhaps a reasonably manageable shift, an opportunity to complete my documentation without unnecessary complications, and enough time to enjoy a proper break would be a lovely change. I suspect the ward will consider my proposal and respond according to its own priorities.

Either way, I shall return with my notes, my willingness to learn, and considerably more appreciation for the people who have helped me settle into my new role. I have waited a long time to return to hospital nursing, and I do not intend to waste the opportunity by allowing first-week uncertainty to discourage me. There is much to learn, certainly, but I am grateful to have somewhere meaningful to begin.

After all the assessments, the waiting, and the anxious anticipation of receiving an offer, I can finally write something I have wanted to say for quite some time: I am a staff nurse again. It may sound like a simple statement, but it carries years of education, professional experience, difficult decisions, and renewed ambition. I know the title alone does not make me competent; that responsibility must be demonstrated through the quality of my practice. But I am proud to have reached this stage, and I hope the work ahead will help me become deserving of the trust placed in me.

Welcome to 6A, Anj. The station has already demonstrated that it has absolutely no intention of being boring. You might as well learn how to keep up.

May 20, 2017 | My first week as a staff nurse at 6A Medical-Surgical Station, St. Vincent General Hospital.

— Anj, RN, newly assigned to the sixth floor, grateful for Sir Weslee’s guidance, and beginning to suspect that hospital charting has developed a life of its own.