A Long, Long, Time Ago....in a Nursing School Far, Far Away....

 

I can see your face,
In our secret place,
You're not just a memory,
Say goodbye to yesterday,
Those are words I'll never say....

 

("This Used to be My Playground", Madonna)

 

 

As you all know, I am facing surgery.  I don't see the plastic surgeon till Monday and I am on pins and needles about it.  I just can't think of anything else.  I'm worried about the surgeon.  And I have an unreasonable fear that they will find cancer, even though two doctors told me the contracture and scar tissue around the old implant in my left boob isn't cancer.  I'm afraid of the surgery itself.  In other words, I'm a big baby.  In my nervousness I have been obsessively knitting frilly scarves with all sorts of colors.

At least I'm done with the mamograms and ultrasounds.  As for the mammograms, I don't know why in the world they gave me a pink gown because it was on me for exactly 4 minutes till I had to take it off so that the technician could squish my boob into that torture death vice.  I might as well have walked in there stark nekkid.

So since I have nothing to say but tired, depressing medical things, I thought I would resurrect those old memories, a series of "reruns" that tell the tragic tale of our intrepid trio who attended an old fashioned, convent-run, nursing school long ago...  

But one note I've got to tell you:  

The whole tale grew out of a blog post I had intended to write about the dumb ghost story TV shows which Blaine watches.  And then, as I bitched, somehow it triggered some reminiscing of events which I had buried deep inside me.....some emerging thoughts which unwillingly rekindled memories of things I would rather not have remembered.....ever. 

 

But then, a cloudy picture of those fateful events began to take form and invade my brain---things which happened long ago....things which formed me into who I am.... and things which I thought I had left behind about my years at Shadyside Hospital Nursing School in Pittsburg, PA. 

 

Shadyside was a "diploma" nursing school.  In those days, a "diploma" nursing school was located at a hospital.  So you lived, breathed, and studied there. 

 

And I say it was a "tragic" story because that's exactly what it was---a tragic, sometimes horrifying story.  Yes, there are funny parts, but I spared nothing when I wrote it--- the good, the bad, and the terrible.  And it's not stories about patients.  It's simply a tale of three friends and the tragedies which befell them...

 

...and yes...there is a ghost story in there.... and it's real....

So remember, it starts out as me complaining about Blaine----and strap on your seat belts because it's going to be a bumpy ride....and so here goes.....

Part One:

http://bohemianknitter.blogspot.com/2009/05/who-ya-gonna-call-part-one.html


Part Two:

http://bohemianknitter.blogspot.com/2009/06/who-ya-gonna-call-part-two.html


Part Three:

http://bohemianknitter.blogspot.com/2009/06/who-ya-gonna-call-part-three.html


Part Four:

http://bohemianknitter.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-ya-gonna-call-final-chapter-while.html

And then....I became an RN.

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