One year, two months, and twenty-five days ago I started my work as a “graduate nurse” at the hospital and began the residency program. For the first two weeks I did nothing but attend orientation classes, take tests and surveys, and get checked off on skills. Then I spent an intensive two months in a one-on-one preceptor relationship, which is really where I learned to do my job. Along the way I took and passed the NCLEX, becoming an RN. I began to take care of patients on my own. First three, then four, then five and, during crazy times, six. For a year I attended monthly classes centered on different topics applicable to new nurses. I got certified to give chemotherapy and have become somewhat proficient in it. I learned how to be a charge nurse. I became a preceptor myself and trained a new nurse along with a few different students. In May I went through the yearly evaluation process which included putting together a portfolio, writing an essay, demonstrating skills competency, and countless online quizzes. I got promoted and got a raise. A partner and I put together a research presentation as our final project, gave an inservice to our unit, and proudly displayed our poster at a reception.

Today, I went to my last class. I took my final quizzes and evaluations and I was done. And this is what I have to show for it:

That, and a year’s worth of invaluable experience, stories, and relationships. Confidence as a true professional nurse. Memories of patients and families who I have affected for the better, and who have forever affected me. A real, honest-to-goodness mentor. A vocation, a passion, and a ministry that I’m proud of. The knowledge that I did this, that I’m doing it, and that I can keep going.

Here I go.