5:30am came much too early this morning, but I couldn’t ignore the alarm and burrow deeper into the blankets. After months of having no specific schedule and sleeping in as I saw fit, I actually had somewhere to be at this early hour. My vacation was over; my first day of work was finally here.
I don’t think it will ever matter how old I am, how experienced I become, or how many different jobs I have throughout my lifetime, I am doomed to forever suffer from first-day jitters. I woke up with a swarm of butterflies whirling around my stomach and was overwhelmed by the anxiety of all the “what-ifs” running through my head. “What if I say something dumb?” “What if I don’t know the medications?” “What if I don’t fit in?” The doubts were endless.
To top it off, I felt ridiculous in my new uniform. That’s right - Australian nurses don’t wear scrubs. Apparently, scrubs are too casual. So I donned my flower-print blouse and trouser pants (we can also wear dress shorts, culottes, or skirts), trying to muster up some sort of self-confidence.
My short stint as an agency nurse, before leaving the states, should have helped me become somewhat accustomed to working in new hospitals. But this was completely different. I was about to throw myself into an entirely foreign environment. Isn’t this what I wanted? Hadn’t I dreamt of broadening my horizons? As I pulled into the parking garage, I wasn’t so sure. Broad horizons seemed like the worst idea ever. It was too late, though. My shift was starting in a few minutes and I had to report for duty. So, I did the only thing I could… I took a deep breath, forced a smile, and faked as much confidence as possible as I walked onto my new ward.
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