I was hired into a medical/surgical unit at a hospital on the North side and I am thrilled. It is a really tough market for new graduates. Despite a nationwide nursing shortage, it is difficult for new RNs, which require a significant investment of time and money, to compete with experienced nurses. I am extremely fortunate to have gotten this position.

And that's it. Fears: explored. Life: shared. LCD television: purchased. Rectal suppositories: inserted. Pigeons: admired. Manikins: respected. IVs: started. Patient death: experienced. Colostomy bags: emptied. Medications: administered. Babies: held. Bedsores: gross. Patients: cared for. People: helped.

Blog: completed.

Matthew Meador, RN

We are the fourth (and best) cohort of students to go through our program. I made a lot of good friends over the past year plus. With minimal sentimentality, I will say that I'll miss everyone, and trust that we are going to do some amazing things for the people we serve.


I take the NCLEX on June 24th, the final hurdle to overcome. The woman who taught the Kaplan review course called it "the ultimate feel bad experience". Awesome, can't wait.

We had our RN Licensure Completion Program today. Can't rightly call it a graduation, as no actual degree was conferred. But as I said in the welcome message (I was asked to emcee the event; I give myself a B- for this assignment), "today is a rite of passage more important than the degrees that come later". Now I just have to pass a test that will determine if I am competent enough to care for your loved ones.

We have a nursing museum on the fourth floor of the College of Nursing, complete with old uniforms, photos, a couple letters written by Florence Nightingale, and trashy nurse romance novels. The place is creepy and awesome.

Ugh, I did so well on this blog for a good amount of time. Then I got busy, and got bored with it, and my life was kind of weird for a while, and keeping up on this was the last thing I felt like doing. But it would be shameful for me not to bring closure to something that I had promised myself I would finish. So here is the abruptly constructed, somewhat disappointing and anticlimactic third act and denouement of the last 16 months of my life.


Unrelated to anything, we decided to be Three Men and a Baby for Halloween 1998. This picture was recently sent to me, and it seemed a shame not to share it.

The graffitist added more credentials.

Probably the best book cover I've ever seen, although most people would consider a lightning bug about to devour their eardrum a major emergency.

We took a class picture today to be hung on the wall of the College of Nursing. I was asked my opinion about which of the ten photos should be selected, and while the one with Joanna grabbing Katy's boob was hilarious, I didn't think it appropriate for posterity.

We tested the slipperiness of a banana peel during lunch. Some slippage, but definitely not enough for a serious pratfall.

I found this Mini-Breast in a College of Nursing closet. It has little lumps in it to teach people how to give themselves breast examinations. This picture doesn't give much scale; it is about the size of an Oreo.

We have a graffitist in the ER who likes to mess with the flyers in the employee bathrooms.

Even though I stopped watching ER after Mark Green died, I felt I owed it to the show to tune in for the finale. Now that I know a thing or two, I have to say that the medical language they use is pretty accurate.

These wooden flowers totally faked me out today. The false lily and bird of paradise led me to believe that Spring was really here.

After a grueling twelve hour shift, I stopped by Arnie and Sarah's new place to find everyone playing Mall Madness. What a dumb game.

Mike Pitts at the Capitol. He has given me a lot of shit recently about not updating my blog. Maybe this will shut him up.

A busload of nursing students went to Springfield today for Nursing Political Action Day. Every year student nurses from all over the state gather to listen to nurse leaders and learn about our responsibilities to our profession, then march to the Capitol building.

During the lunch break, Jenny and I visited Abraham Lincoln's house. I definitely appreciated the history more than I did in seventh grade, when I was more concerned about a chaperone finding out about the Bowie knife I bought at the New Salem Historic Site and confiscating it. Seriously, who sells a knife to 12 year old?

I wonder if the passenger who sat here completed the sudoku before or after urinating everywhere.

Draft Day. Kuta hoists the Jeremy Hernandez Memorial League trophy above the city. He threepeated this year, much to the annoyance of the nine other general managers. Bastard.

Every year me and Bill and Trupe and Nick get together for ribs flown up from Rendezvous, a famous rib joint in Memphis. Vivian joined us this year, and as it would be irresponsible to let a one year old chew on a rib bone, she ate fruit and cheerios as we dined on our annual delicacy.

I went to see The Eagles tonight with my family. The tickets said "No Cameras", so I took this picture in the parking lot of the Sears Center and then left my camera in the car. Once the show started, Glenn Frey invited everyone to take no more than three photos per song. Oh well.

I grew up listening to a lot Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and Journey. There was a period of time in college where I thought I was too cool for the Eagles, but that has passed, and now I enjoy their music again. Don Henley and Joe Walsh played a lot of their solo material. "The Heat Is On" did not make the setlist; I wonder if Glenn Frey was pissed about this, or is willing to accept the nerdiness of his solo career.

I made a flyer advertising focus groups being conducted for ER nurses. Jeri, Debbie, and Deborah were kind enough to let me use their likenesses. I titled it "Looking Bravely Forward", which was the name of a sketch show I was in a couple years ago.

Beer garden season approaches.

I think the apartment building next to my building was recently condemned. I think this is a strange way to tell people to stay out.

The smell in the first floor men's bathroom at the College of Nursing has been bothering me for a while, not because it's nasty, but because it smells like food. I finally figured out today that it is either pancakes and syrup or waffles and syrup.

Can someone please explain why there is an apostrophe in the phrase Drunk Again?

When patients are admitted to one of the upstairs units from the ER, we have to call report to the nurse that is receiving them. This task causes me an incredible amount of anxiety, as the faceless nurse on the other end of the line is often kind of mean.

I have always had trouble talking on the phone with strangers, which I believe stems from when I was three and told my grandma that I was going to call my mom. She said, "Okay", not realizing that I didn't know that in order to reach someone you had to dial a particular sequence of numbers. I picked up the phone and hit the buttons until it rang, and had the following conversation.

Woman: Hello.
Me: Hi mom!
Woman: (in terrifying witch voice) I'm not your mother! [click]

Then I crawled behind the couch and cried until my dad came and picked me up.

I made my triumphant return to the Southside parade today with Nick and Katie. Katie's mom lives a couple houses from the parade route, so there's always a refuge from the throngs of drunken turds that overrun the neighborhood every year. In my opinion, it's never okay to be a disgusting animal; the thousands of Northside idiots that get dropped off there by the busload do not share my convictions.

Tonight I shadowed Airn, the Family Nurse Practitioner that works in the ER Fast Track. Nothing pithy to say about it, other than I learned a lot.

Had dinner with the dudes tonight at The Full Shilling in Wrigleyville. Midway through dinner, a creepo guy came over and sat behind us and started drawing us while having religious conversations with himself. It was the same guy who drew a caricature of Trupe and Hansen a few years ago, and then told them that their words would turn to ashes in their mouths. As I was leaving, he stopped me and gave me the picture.

Creepo: Hi, I'm [Lester?].

Me: Hi, Matt.

Creepo: Repeat after me: I had a vision, in the green grass, of Yeshua.

Me: repeat

Creepo: There, now you are a Hebrew. Hahahaha!

Me: Uh, thanks?

It was a coincidence that we were sitting in the appropriate order at Gingerman afterward. If you couldn't tell, I am the one on the far left.

Nick teaches at The Latin School, where each year students participate in Project Week. During past Project Weeks, Nick has taken students on a theater trip to London and a desert vision quest in the Southwest. This year he stayed in the city and did a week of competitions based on reality TV shows. For The Amazing Race, he asked me to pretend to be an Italian bocce pro in Arrigo Park in Little Italy.

Nick: It'll be easy. The kids have to beat you at bocce, then you give them their next clue. I've even got a hat and a little vest for you.
Me: What if a real Italian walks by and beats the shit out of me for using a bad Italian accent?
Nick: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

It was really fun. You could tell the kids weren't totally buying the fact that I was Italian, but were too polite to call me out on it. Nick told me later that the last place team ended up winning the whole thing by being the fastest to solve the puzzles at the National Museum of Mexican Art in Pilsen, which made me happy as they were clearly the most cohesive.

Me: What are they doing tomorrow?
Nick: Top Chef. We were supposed to get actual Top Chef contestants to judge the competition, but they weren't able to do it. Bummer.

I went to an open house for Illinois Masonic this afternoon. They have a residency program for new graduates that aims to retain nurses by providing an extended orientation program and multiple forms of support for nurses in the transition from school to hospital floor. It sounds like a pretty incredible program, and I think the hundreds of other soon-to-be nurses jammed into the room would agree with me.

It's kind of a scary time to be graduating. Nationally, there is still a nursing shortage, but that shortage is not very prevalent in Chicago. In this economy, nurses who were going to retire may be putting that off, nurses working part time are bumping themselves up to full time, and a couple notable hospitals in Chicago have implemented hiring freezes. I think we are all getting used to the idea that our first and second choices for employment may be impossible, and anything after that marginally difficult to acquire. I know everything will work out, but am still a bit nervous.

Today was Research Day at the College of Nursing. While getting coffee before the first research presentation, a woman stopped me and told me that I look like William Shatner.

Me: Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.
Woman: You should. I am a huge Star Trek fan.

Other celebrities I have been told I resemble: Patrick Swayze, Andy Richter, Philip Seymour Hoffman, John Daly, and Sean Astin (kids at Taft High School used to chant "Rudy, Rudy" when I walked down the hall.) Here I am showing off my Patrick Swayze eyes.

I still love Chicago, despite repeated attempts by the city to make me hate it.

Sometimes I feel like an ER Star. Most of the time I don't.

Julie and I went to St. Al's for a Trivia Night fundraiser. As one who used to frequent pub quiz at various bars, and who has run one, I think they did a great job. Our team, St. Know It All, was victorious. Julie's cousin Bridget was so excited about winning I thought she might cry.

A bunch of us went to a conference today about health disparities. Some of the talks were good and interesting, some were good and boring, some were bad and boring, and the keynote was just plain bad.

In May, we will be the fourth cohort of nurses to graduate the pre-RN portion of our curriculum.

Nobody showed up for tutoring today. It made me kind of sad.

I tried to make the breadfruit tonight. I don't know if it wasn't ripe enough, or I prepared it incorrectly, but it was really gross. At one point I was actually concerned I might be poisoning myself.

Julie and I saw The Seafarer today at Steppenwolf. I really should go to more plays.

For some reason I find DEFPOTEC amusing. He's probably the Aztec god of something, maybe pumpkins.

I found this pulse oximeter sensor in the stairwell of the parking garage. I see a surprising amount of medical garbage strewn about.

My Thursday team now plays pool at Goldie's, which is just an okay bar with a very dangerous beer special.

My 9-ball team moved from Ten Cat to Cy's Crab House. It's weird playing pool next to a lobster tank.

I bought a breadfruit from the Rogers Park Fruit Market. I have no idea how to eat it, and fear that it may be full of baby spiders who will erupt from its leathery hide and crawl into my mouth while I sleep.

There was a Black History Month potluck in the ED today, which meant I didn't have to go to the cafeteria to get food that was bad for me.

We had dinner tonight at Ruth's Chris in South Barrington to celebrate my dad's 60th birthday. Terrible picture, great food, awesome family.

After running an Info Session at the College, Jenny and I went to the Marriott on campus for a job fair sponsored by some nursing website. The invite said to drop in any time between 5 and 9, and that there would be food. We got there at 8:15 as most of the recruiters were packing up, so we talked to a couple places for whom we'll never work, gazed at the empty buffet table, and then left.

It was a colossal waste of time, but on the way home we discovered that two people can fit through a CTA revolving door turnstile.