SUSAN'S FIRST SHOT by Rolleen

Susan had been a nurse-in-training for three long months now, and she was starting to feel like a pro. She was an expert at emptying bedpans, giving baths, taking temperatures, and filling out patient charts. There was just one thing that still eluded her - taking blood pressure readings. The second bleep was always a little too quiet for Susan's ears. And let's not even talk about the nutrition class. It was so boring that Susan was pretty sure she'd fall into a coma before she even made it to the end of the semester.

But Susan was determined to succeed. She knew that if she could just make it through today, she'd be well on her way to becoming a fully-fledged nurse. Today was the big day - the day Susan was going to give her very first shot to a patient. She hadn't slept a wink the night before. Her nerves were completely frayed, and she was starting to second guess her ability to do this.

As Susan approached the medicine room, memories of her first practice shot flooded her mind. The student nurses used poor, innocent oranges as their practice subjects. Susan decided she would just pretend she was giving another orange a shot.

But as she filled her syringe, her hands began to tremble with anxiety. She tried to steady them, but it was no use - the syringe slipped out of her grasp and fell clumsily to the floor. Mrs. May, her instructor, gently handed her another sterile syringe and gave her a reassuring smile. "You got this, Susan," she said. "Just take a deep breath and remember everything we've practiced."

Susan nodded, took a deep breath, and set to work. After filling the first syringe, Susan set to work on the second one. Her patient was going to need two injections, and she wanted to be prepared. She placed both syringes on the tray, along with two pieces of cotton soaked in alcohol, and headed down the hall with Mrs. May by her side.

As they walked, Mrs. May quizzed Susan on her plan of action. "Now Susan, what's the first thing you'll do once you get to room 103?"

Susan was confident in her answer. "First, I'll look for Bed C since that's where the patient is supposed to be," she replied.

"And then what?" asked the instructor.

"Then I'll check the name tag on the bed and after that I'll check the patient's name bracelet to see if he is William Smith. And if there's any question in my mind, I'll ask him, 'What's your name?'"

"Very good," praised Mrs. May.

As they approached room 103, Susan couldn't help but notice that her legs were starting to feel a little shaky. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she found herself wondering why on earth she had decided to become a nurse in the first place.

When they entered the room, Susan quickly scanned over to Bed C and saw a tall, lanky man stretched out in the bed. He was covered in tattoos and seemed to be half-conscious. The name on the bed read "Little Willy," which struck Susan as a little odd. She puzzled over this for a split second before concluding that it must be some sort of sarcastic nickname for William Smith. After all, this wiry man was anything but "little."

Susan took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. It was show time!

So Susan confidently walked over to Little Willie's bed, while Mrs. May headed over to the real William Smith's bed - which was just another typical hospital record mix-up. Mrs. May turned around to see Susan standing at the wrong bed, and couldn't believe her eyes.

"Susan, what are you doing?" asked Mrs. May, struggling to keep her composure.

"I'm getting ready to give my patient his shot," responded Susan, a little confused.

"Susan, what is your patient's name?" Mrs. May asked slowly, trying to keep a straight face.

Susan looked Mrs. May right in the eye and answered, "William Smith, but his nickname is Little Willy."

Mrs. May stood there, speechless. She seriously considered throwing Susan out of nursing school right then and there, but ultimately decided against it and motioned for Susan to come over to the correct bed, Bed B.

As soon as Susan saw SMITH, William written on the bed chart, she realized what a fool she had made of herself. She felt like crawling under the bed and hiding there until the whole situation just disappeared. By this point, the real William Smith was painfully aware that this young, clueless student nurse was about to puncture him with a needle.

Susan tried to appear as professional and competent as possible, despite her embarrassing blunder. She told Mr. Smith to turn over on his side, and cleaned off his hip area with the sterile cotton. She held the syringe in her hand, trying to remember to keep her wrist loose - in class, they had compared it to throwing a dart.

Gathering up all her courage, Susan let the needle fall towards Mr. Smith's hip. Just as the needle point was about to puncture his skin, Susan's wrist suddenly became stiff and rigid - it was like rigor mortis had set in. Mr. Smith let out an unhappy moan, glaring at Susan to let her know exactly how he felt about this whole situation.

Susan was tempted to chalk the whole thing up as a bad experience, but Mrs. May assured her it was okay. Susan tried again, this time focusing on keeping her wrist loose. But as she was about to give the injection, she remembered that nasty nerve on everyone's posterior that, if punctured by a needle, could leave a person paralyzed for life. She whispered a quick prayer, "Please, God, help my hands stop shaking so I won't hit Mr. Smith's nerve."

With a new surge of confidence, Susan tried again. She couldn't believe it when the needle bounced back again. What was Mr. Smith made of - skin or rubber?

By this point, poor Mr. Smith was bleeding in two places where Susan had tried to give him the shot. Susan had reached her breaking point. She thrust the syringe into Mrs. May's hands and said hysterically, "I can't do it, Mrs. May, I just can't!" She started to run out of the room, but Mrs. May grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"Susan, you will do it," Mrs. May said firmly. "You'll give the patient his shot right now.”

Susan knew Mrs. May was right. If she left now, it would probably mean the end of her nursing career. So she took the syringe back and aimed it once more at Mr. Smith's hip. She was determined that this time, the needle would continue its journey into the appointed muscle.

To Susan's relief, her attempt was successful. She was so relieved that she didn't even notice Mrs. May handing her the second syringe until Mr. Smith let out another one of his mournful cries. Susan wondered if her luck would stretch far enough to get the second shot in on the first try. But to her relief, it did.

Susan left room 103 that day knowing that she would face many first-time experiences in life, but with the right amount of self-determination, she could conquer any fear or obstacle. She had given her first shots, and she was ready to tackle whatever came her way next.