Reflecting on time passed, Brian and new job blunders

8 years ago today, my friend from high school, Brian, was tragically killed in a car accident. He was supposed to play football and graduate with my brother. He never got to live his senior year. I was 15 years old, on my way home from band practice with my sister, my best friend at the time and her mom when she told us the news. I didn't believe it; I went home and told my parents. They called the police, but no reports were made yet. I barely slept that night; my mind was riddled with worry. The next morning, my worst fear was confirmed; Brian was gone. My life would never be the same after that day.

Fast forward to that day, 8 years later. I have not attended any other funeral other than Brian's. I'm in Kentucky, on my own, a licensed nurse and currently in the process of orientating to my dream job. I finished my individual orientation today after going at it all week. I thought about Brian today, and ironically I saw what appeared to be the aftermath of a fender bender on the way to work today. Two guys, a big car and a large SUV; the police were on their way. Luckily neither of the two men were hurt. I didn't stop though, but I wish I would have. Even though everything was already taken care of, maybe there was something I could have done or said. Maybe not. As I continued to drive on, my mind kept thinking about this responsibility that I now have. What if one of those men were hurt? What if the police were nowhere to be found? Yes, the responsibility would have been on me. But I thought of myself as that 15 year old; I had no idea where my life was going. I knew I wanted to go into nursing, but in terms of college I was stuck. I had big dreams; staying close to home to go to college and then off to the Carolinas to work and be close to the beach. Almost two years ago when I finished my clinicals, I KNEW that's where I was meant to be. Then I graduated, passed the boards and began the job search. I was dead set on sticking with mental health jobs first and foremost, since that was where I wanted. Let's face it; there aren't many mental health jobs out there. My first job I applied for was at UK; I didn't even think about The Ridge until many weeks later. Was doubtful I'd even get an interview.

I'm writing this today not only to remember Brian, but to also remind myself and others that there are many forks in our road. Life really is like a box of chocolates. We all have dreams, goals, realities, expectations and hopes for what our life will turn out. I've heard this ad nauseam before, but the saying goes if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. But I'm not saying completely disregard any hopes, dreams or plans you have in your life, please don't misunderstand me. God just used some of the plans I had...and then added a few of His own for me. It's scary, putting your trust and faith into the unseen and unheard Creator of the Universe; I'll be first to admit that. But again, I think of Brian. He had hopes, dreams and goals for his life as well. But God had another plan for him; to be a light and example before his unfortunate departure from this Earth. Yet his life was not in vain, for Brian accepted Christ a few weeks before his death. I'm happy I got to know him before he died; I think experiencing loss of a friend and most recently a family member has really helped put on my nursing hat and to connect with people more. And I think to truly get and receive that connection, one must know what loss feels like. Looks like. Because like all people, one size does not fit all. I have heard that over and over while going through my computer training and DVD viewing for work. I have learned so much about this place already, and yes, I know what I'm getting myself into.

It's been a long week, but the training and orientation is not even close to being done yet. I'm still learning not only how to be an employee of this facility (and learning all the quibs, buttons, Kronos red tape and keys) but how to be a trained and competent behavioral health RN. This week has been all the technical stuff; getting the key, learning which way to turn the doors since ALL of them are locked (and yes you take your key with you even to the bathroom), reviewing the disorders of those I'll be working with, locating the employee parking lot and unfortunately, preparing for the worst. The group classes will start next week, which will include nonviolent crisis intervention (NCI), de-escalating techniques and how to provide the best possible care to those who I'll be caring for. The individual training is over, another year has passed since Brian has been gone, and my life is nowhere where I expected it to be. Yet I'm happy, blessed for the time I got to know Brian and thankful to God for those struggles and losses. The way I see it is this; you can grow and learn or continue to be stagnant. You can play the blame game for the 100th time, or seek the opportunity and discover a way to learn from it. You may be surprised what happens.