Happy National Nurses Week!!

I have avoided posting  a new entry to this blog because I have not been in a very happy PhD student place. But, first, let me back up a bit so that this makes sense.

About a year ago, a professor I respect deeply asked me if I was feeling like I'd made the worst mistake of my life in pursuing a PhD. I was surprised. A year ago, I was feeling pretty good. I couldn't understand why she would ask such a question. And then the winter quarter of second year started and it became painfully clear that the only problem with her question had been that she was asking it a year too early.

Perhaps it was the sociology theory course. Or maybe it is the very idea of qualifying exams. Or maybe it was the realization that I had not worked for pay as a nurse in 18 months, and that my new actual title ( in my thirties!!!) was "student." I was supposed to be an "expert" (Who me? Why are you looking at me?!), and I hadn't had a full patient load in a year and a half.

It could have been any one of those things, but whatever it was, it resulted in an existential crisis that can only be described using a recent, pop-culture word: EPIC.

The PhD program is one that forces this painful reflective process, which I am defining as a crisis. First, the PhD program take away belief, (which I was okay with, not having "believed" anything in years). Then it takes away "truth," (which I was maybe a little less than thrilled to let go of, but, hey, I'm the flexible sort). Then it takes away "science," (which FREAKED ME OUT) and what they give you in return is postmodernism or post-structuralism, if you prefer, and if you're really feeling progressive, a little post-post-modernism on the side. Finally, they tell you to make a unique contribution to nursing science (whatever that means!) without belief, truth, or the belief in science as truth.

It's a bit of a shock, really.

And, to add insult to injury, splash the wound with lemon, salt the land that has already been burned (I'm running out of metaphors...), they also ask you to find your own funding. Welcome to academia! Or, if you prefer:  this is a game of probability (not chance, there are far too many identified independent variables for that!) and you're betting on yourself. I think that what I didn't realize is that this is a bet that requires you go "all in."

So. How're ya' feeling'? Umm...yeah.

Here I am. The second year is almost done and I'm ready to start writing my qualifying exams. If I can just convince four experts that I know what I'm talking about.... The strange thing is that on the other side of this brief but devastating period of time, I feel ready to write about my phenomenon of interest. I feel ready... I'm just not quite sure *how* I'm supposed to do any of this.

Florence Nightingale once said, "I think one's feelings waste themselves in words; they ought all to be distilled into actions which bring results." 

It's time to distill my feelings into actions and it is time to bring some results. It's time to write qualifying exams.

Wish me luck.