That Hermine, What a B&%#@

Orientation for my Management & Leadership clinical was this past Wednesday. I've been looking forward to this particular clinical because somehow I managed to score a Level I trauma center, the ONLY Level I center offered as a clinical site for this class (of the 3 Level I centers in my metro area). Now that doesn't seem terribly important for a management clinical, except for the fact it's also the site for our Capstone--basically a 96 hour clinical that is supposed to transition us into the real world of nursing. This particular hospital is known to hire people directly out of Capstone. So, if I manage to maneuver myself onto an ICU for Capstone, and then manage to impress someone important, it could lead to yet another great job option. I know, that's a whole truckload of "ifs", but such is the life of a near new grad nursing student.

Regardless, I've been looking forward to this clinical since I found out I was assigned there.

Until that b##%& Hermine showed up.

It all started off with a beautiful Labor Day weekend, so nice in fact that I had the top off the Jeep for nearly a week. The kids love it, and having the balmy Fall breeze in your face makes the rough ride, the wind noise, and the crappy fuel mileage all worth it.

I was aware that Hermine was lurking in the Gulf, and that she'd probably end up in our area after she made landfall, so I was keeping an eye on the radars on Monday. All the forecasts clearly said she wouldn't arrive in my area until Tuesday night. So in my Labor Day induced lazy stupor on Monday evening, I elected to wait until the next morning to put the top up.

Guess who wakes me up at 5 am drooling all over my eaves, splattering all over the back patio and driveway, and slobbering all over the interior of my Jeep.

That's right, the b*(@# was early.

By the time I yanked on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and got outside to get the top up, it was clear it had been raining for a couple of hours. The Jeep was soaked. Which is not a big deal, it dries out.

Eventually.

My wife was kind enough to shuttle me to school that day, which turned out to be a blessing since it rained all day. Not hard, just steady. Enough to saturate the ground.

Enter Wednesday morning. The morning of my orientation for Management Clinical, at the hospital, 31 miles away in downtown big city. I get up at 7 to wake up my oldest daughter for school, and look out the window. It's pouring.

POURING.

Now, I've been in this area long enough to know that when it rains, traffic does not pass Go, does not collect $200, it goes directly to hell. So even though my orientation doesn't start until 9, I immediately got dressed in my trusty blue scrubs with iron-on nursing school patch, grabbed my umbrella and hit the door.

It normally takes me about 10 minutes to get from my house to the nearest highway. This morning it took 35. The water was above the curbs on the left and the right, effectively turning a 4 lane boulevard into 2. In places the water was above the door sills on the smaller cars, in the middle of the road!

Once I got on the highway, it wasn't any better. Traffic was stop and go the entire way. Water was ponding out over the highway. Exit ramps led into lakes. Overpasses became bridges over rivers.

An hour and 50 minutes after I left, I was pulling into the remote parking lot on the campus of the hospital. Oh yeah, Level I trauma center also means really big campus, and don't think that students don't get the shaft with remote parking about 1/2 a mile from the actual hospital. Luckily there's a shuttle service. Too bad it only runs every 20 minutes, the first one didn't wait for me to get out of the Jeep, and I was already 5 minutes late.

So I decided to walk. Within minutes of being outside, it was clear that my umbrella was only going to be useful enough to keep my forehead dry. My trusty blue scrubs were soaked through, clinging to me like a 3 year old being dropped off at daycare. From about T-4 down, (that's nipple line folks), I was completely drenched. Water was up to my ankles on the sidewalks. I was making good progress though trudging onward.

Until I turned the corner of a building and discovered that there's a commuter train that runs through the middle of the hospital campus. With a 8 foot high, wrought iron fencing on both sides of the tracks.

When I turned around to back track to the remote parking lot, don't think I didn't consider just getting back in the Jeep and driving the hour and 50 minutes home. Lucky for me I got back to the remote lot in time to stand in the rain another 10 minutes before the next shuttle showed up.

I was about 30 minutes late to my clinical orientation. I was completely drenched, even my underwear was wet. Water squished out of my shoes when I walked. And I sat there like that, learning yet again that you R.A.C.E in response to a fire, you P.A.S.S. to use a fire extinguisher, and code pink means someone's trying to steal a baby.

What a miserable day.

All told, the weather station near my house measured over 11 inches of rain in about 6 hours. For contrast, where I grew up receives an average of 8.39" of rain...a year.

And Hermine wasn't done either, she later spawned 4 tornadoes on top of all the flooding.

What a b#*&^.