So today I got to call some reference checks in on a guy I’m trying to hire for one of the facilities.
He went to the same nursing school as I did and so two of his references are instructors that I also had classes with.
One of those classes was mental health.
Now, I’ve worked in mental health forever, and when I took that quarter I thought, “Oh, this will be a cakewalk, I can just practically phone this one in.” I mean seriously. I’ve worked in residential mental health forever. How hard could it be?
Then I went to clinicals, and something unexpected happened. Being in an acute care environment, which I chose because I had so much experience in the outpatient world, pushed my buttons like nobody’s business. I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there from the minute I walked onto the unit every day. I half-assed my assignments and skated through the whole thing like a bad dream, which it kind of was.
Out of respect for the involved party I won’t go into why it was so difficult for me. At the time I was so mired in it that I couldn’t see what was happening, but afterward when I had got some distance from it, it became apparent just how hard it had been. I was ashamed and wanted to contact the instructor, apologize to her, explain why I hadn’t been a very good student.
Then I thought that maybe that would look even more pathetic, so I just left it where it was.
So guess who I got to call today.
Over the course of the reference check it came out that I had attended that college, been in her class. She remembered me. She remembered thinking that I was not performing up to my potential. I told her why, and that I had regretted it and had wanted to tell her so ever since.
Leave it behind you, she said. You’re where you are for a reason. I’m glad to know you’re doing well.