I wonder what Barbie would think about CRNA school**

**When I was a little girl, Mattel made a Barbie with a pull-cord back. She said many phrases, but my favorite was, "Math is hard." She was immediately removed from the shelves...

Our new neighborhood reminds me of being a small town girl during the Colorado summers, I think, as the rain hits my face. Kids ride their bikes at night in the streets, racing through the sprinklers without a care in the world. Rugby and I venture out to explore our new territory. The breeze leaves the air fresh and I get a whiff of far off farm animals and it brings me peace. The normalcy of home life grounds me as hard as if I were to be wearing cement shoes. Lately, my mind takes me to far off places, dreams of glycolysis, memorizing innvervation patterns in the showers, and calculating vapor pressures over dinner. I find myself daily manically scrub my new counter tops, “for a sense of control,” my friend and classmate finishes my thought. She looks at me with empathetic and tired eyes. I was so non-chalant about CRNA school. Sure, it’s hard for you, but not for me. If I only knew…
…They don’t tell you how often or how easily you will cry, I think. School brought a big, burly guy in my class to tears today. He arrived to our test late and was barely let in the testing center. I felt my eyes well with sympathy tears thinking about all the hours I spent in the library, about 25 for a 45 question test. No doubt, it is a coincidence that they don’t tell you, you will probably cry…a lot. However, during the monthly “pep talks” by the dean, I hear words like “intubation,” “Swan-Ganz” and “no I have NEVER done a pudendal block” and my heart is a flutter again.