Being a graduating nursing student, one of the most daunting challenges for me is to find a job. More importantly, find a job that I won’t absolutely hate. Because I don’t think I can stand spending a good chunk of my time doing something I really do not enjoy. For the past 2 years, school has really sucked the life out of me. Sure, you think I’m being dramatic, and I probably am. But if I have to spend the next year tolerating a job that I truly don’t like, then I will lose it.
Anyways, I’ve had my sights set on working at a particular hospital that has a wonderful women’s and children’s building. Within this past year, I realized that I truly enjoy working with women, children, and families. I don’t know what in particular drew me to that field, but whatever it was, it was my saving grace. Before that time, I honestly didn’t know what would happen once I graduated since I hadn’t really been enjoying my clinicals at that time. I was still uncertain if nursing was truly for me. But luckily, I found the perfect area of nursing that I could totally imagine myself working in.
So come February of spring semester–my last semester. And I excitedly decided to apply to 4 units regarding women’s health at this hospital that I wanted to work at. Once I hit those submit buttons, I felt like I was already in. Like I already had a job. Because this is what I was meant to do, and this is what I’m supposed to do. And so I waited. And waited. And waited.
March rolled around, and I had received nothing. No emails. No calls. Nothing.
So, like a little helpless child, I called on my mom.
I should probably explain this.
My mom has worked in the women’s and children’s building of this same hospital for over 12 years as a nurse. She’s really familiar with all the units and frequently works as charge nurse. And so naturally, she knew people. She knew the head of the departments, the charge nurses, the nurse managers, etc. So I figured I still had a good chance at landing a job there since I knew someone who knew people in charge.
April comes around. My mom had talked to several different people about me and apparently, they couldn’t find my application in their system. Weird. And by this point, I’m really pissed off. I had been waiting around for about 2 months now for someone to call me but it turns out I wasn’t even on their radar to begin with. And it didn’t help that I was constantly hearing of my classmates getting multiple job offers from this same hospital. It was incredibly aggravating to have to just wait since there was nothing I could do at the time.
Finally, a recruiter called me about interviewing with that hospital’s Labor and Delivery Unit. Yes! Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. And it turns out, the person who was interviewing me knew my mom too. I was in luck. On the day of the interview, I got dressed in my best attempt at professional attire and felt so sure, so confident that I was going to get this job. I just thought that the interview was just for formalities and that I would get that job offer in no time. There was no way I wasn’t going to get this job.
A week later, I saw that I had a missed call and a voicemail from the recruiter. I was so excited. I pressed play and the minute I heard the recruiter speak, I knew something was terribly wrong. Then I heard it– “….unfortunately, the unit won’t be moving forward with the offer. The fellowship for July is already full.” My heart fell into my stomach and I felt like I had just been punched. It took me a good 5 minutes after hearing that to actually start crying, because I was so shocked. I didn’t know what went wrong. I didn’t know what I could have done differently. And it was fucking disappointing.
And so I did the normal dance of disappointment. I cried. And then I prayed. And then I cried again. Then I suddenly felt motivated to look for more jobs. And then I cried again. Then I called my cousin. Cried to her, too. Cried to my dog. When my dad came home from work, I cried to him too. It probably took me about 3 hours to get it all completely out of my system. And I’m glad I let myself get that messy and ridiculous because I’m pretty sure if I didn’t, I’d still be bummed out today.
By the time my mom came home later on that night, I was already over it. I told her I didn’t get the job, and then watched HER freak out. She didn’t cry or anything like that, she was just a bit outraged. But I made her promise not to bring it up with the interviewer or anyone on L&D, because that would probably be the most embarrassing thing haha.
Sure it’s just one interview. And it’s just one rejection. And I’ve only applied to a handful of places. I know that when I tell this story to people, I hear a whole spew of things like: “People get rejected all the time” or “It took me months to actually find a job!” or “I’ve applied to 60 jobs and no one has reached out to me yet.” Okay, cool. I understand that. I’m not the only one here. But regardless of what it is, disappointment is disappointment. It hurts the same way. However, I am lucky to be in a field like nursing where there is a shortage and a good availability of jobs. I initially chose nursing because of that aspect. And I know that after graduation, I’ll have a job. It may not be the job that I want, but I’ll have a job. And that will be good enough.
For now, it’s back to the online applications, lifeless resume editing, and the waiting.
So what’s the moral of the story? I have no clue. I haven’t got to that part of the story. Writing this entire thing out is actually helping me process the event more so I can just let go of it, because it’s no use to hang on to something like this. Yes, the story doesn’t end here. There’s a reason why I wasn’t offered a position, and that’s because an even better opportunity is heading my way. That’s the only reasoning I’ll accept.
And there you have it. Your daily dose of rejection, disappointment, frustration, maybe even a little entitlement, and a nice cliff hanger for ya. You’re welcome.
Always Kisses & Meows,