Memory #1
I was still in school, and we were doing our geriatrics rotation in clinicals. No one knew I was pregnant, and I was still very sick. I was in the room of an unresponsive, comatose patient, and Tabitha, Jill, and I were washing him up and changing his linens. Tabitha had told me a few days earlier she was pregnant. Jill had told me a few minutes earlier she was pregnant. I felt like it might be a good idea to let them know, since we could help each other out and cover for me, since the instructors didn't and couldn't know. Policy dictated that we present a physician's note clearing us for clinical work in order to graduate. That was problematic, since Jill and I couldn't afford insurance but made too much for state aid, and Tabitha was a high-risk pregnancy and no sane doctor would ever clear her. My hands were sweaty, which was inconvenient, since I was holding a naked man steady on his side so the other girls could wash his back. He nearly slipped out of my grasp. I was shaking when I told them I was the rumored "Fourth". Gossip in school had whispered there were 4 pregnant girls in a class of 16. The instructors were going student to student trying to get them to rat out the ones the instructors didn't know about. Nikki was the third, but there were no problems with her pregnancy and she had insurance, so hers wasn't a secret. Both of them were so excited and swore secrecy. The rest of the class knew before the week was out.
Memory #2
It was my first day of my mental health rotation at the state mental facility. I was throwing up constantly, and more than a little resentful of this tiny cluster of cells causing my constant discomfort. We were told to be careful, that the patients there weren't as innocent and harmless as they might seem at first. They were all there for a reason. My group was walking through the hallways, very bored. No one wanted to talk to us. The only thing they seemed interested in was whether or not we had cigarettes. Out of nowhere, my boredom ended as I felt a strong, wiry arm reach around my neck and tighten. I'd heard of fight or flight mode, even studied it, but never experienced it. I dug my fingers into the arm and twisted out of its grasp. I put plenty of distance between me and it before looking to see its owner. I identified him and told my instructor, who removed us from the area and alerted the staff. Later, when I could think again, I wondered at how my brain had immediately responded, and my only thoughts had been for the safety of my growing baby - the baby I hadn't planned, and didn't even want at first. I think that was the first time I really loved her. I didn't know who she was, or even if she was a boy or a girl baby at this point. All that mattered was that she was my baby, and it was my job as her mother to protect her from everything harmful. That included mental patients with half their brain removed trying to choke her mother.
I'll record more as they come to me.
