I am in the seat, feeling comfortable, calm (even though I have went through enough security to enter Fort Knox). I read through the instructions as to not miss anything. “You have 6 hours….” Sounds good, all is well…..
First question, okay, 50/50…..A or C….. hmmm…A…. “next”…..2nd question…..what? What are they asking? These are all right, and there are no indicators in the question showing priority. Can I ask them “is this patient stable?” “how old are they?” “should I assume they are anxious?”….Can I phone a friend?
Okay, quit assuming, take the question at face value……uh……well, if I were getting this done, this is what I would want to know…….B……..
Right about question 8 I hear the girl next to me groan. Then about 10 questions later she does a big sigh, then a few later she says, “Oh God.” Seriously? Shut-up…..I am freaking out, too. The least you can do is give me some silence, right? Maybe I should’ve said yes to those earplugs.
Where’s the delegation? Where is the alternate question with apical pulse location? Where are the labs? Where is the question on crutches?
Why do I get the feeling they are asking me about the same thing over and over? Maybe they are thinking (I have now humanized the NCLEX monster as “they”) if I give her the question 5 or 6 more times, maybe she’ll get it right…..then…….
Black screen…..wait! They are thinking….we gave her every shot possible, but she blew it. 75 questions, and I knew the answer to a whopping…..TWO (with certainty).
I do the outgoing survey, looking for the question that says, do you think these questions blow? “Strongly agree”
I again get fingerprinted (I am thinking, if you think I actually paid this pathetic looking, short-haired blonde girl in sweatpants to take the test for me, then she did a piss poor job…..I am demanding a refund). I courteously smile and get my stuff. Then I realize, it’s time to hit the potty. My stomach is gurgling, and I can actually see my heartbeat in my abdomen. It is pounding. I get into my car, deciding who won’t think I am crazy if I call in this state of mind. Okay, my hubby, of course, he always makes me feel better. “Oh, that stinks.” Is his response to my description. “When can you take it again?” I’m thinking “I DON’T KNOW, I DIDN’T PLAN ON FAILING!” You’re not helping, click……then, my mom. Mom’s always make you feel better, right? “Oh sweetie, it’s not the end of the world, you can just take it over.” Again, not what I wanted to hear.
At this point I am hoping that Ashton pops out from behind the car next to me with his trendy hair and crooked smile and says, “You’ve been Punk’d!” so that I can slap him in the face or kick him in the balls or something equally degrading.
Where are all of my girlfriends who are RNs? Voicemail, Voicemail, Voicemail.
I am sitting in a random parking lot in Roseville thinking, “Maybe I’ll just tell everyone that I had to reschedule, then take the exam again before anybody finds out that I’ve failed.” How vain is that?!
Ugh!!! My stomach is hurting again. I get a few calls/texts and I can’t bear to tell the whole ugly story again.
I get home (I can’t even remember driving really….it feels like I got home in 5 minutes). I sit on my couch for about 45 minutes…..no TV, no kids, no talking, maybe even no blinking. I didn’t take the NCLEX serious enough. I should’ve done a different review. I should’ve done more questions. I should’ve taken it later or maybe earlier or maybe I should’ve just NOT studied.
Of course, nothing on BRN the next day, the day after that, I wake up at 0500 and check…nope…I am even looking on allnurses.com to see what the odds are of failing at 75 questions. Meanwhile, I am talking to people now. I am trying to convince myself that I am okay with whatever happens (of course, I am MORE okay with passing!). I contemplate setting my alarm for 0200 Saturday morning (I’ve heard the BRN updates their website at 0200 for the previous day). I decide that if it isn’t there, it will ruin the rest of my night’s sleep, so I pass on the alarm idea.
Saturday morning, I sleep in, 0900…….I click on my bookmark (yes, I have bookmarked it)…..type “eagal”…….can you believe it? There is another Trina Eagal in San Joaquin county….well, that is annoying, even SHE passed the NCLEX….wait….oh, okay, I think I can actually hear the word relief as I exhale. Now, I can drop the weight on my chest and the pit from my stomach. Phew!
Moral of the story, sometimes the signs and symptoms (diarrhea, abdominal pain, bounding pulse, anxiety, feelings of impending doom) don’t match the diagnosis (Effective testing output r/t using my noggin aeb name showing up on BRN site)
What’s next?
You mean, now I have to find a job? My stomach hurts again.
