My second semester was very exciting because we FINALLY got to do clinicals in a real hospital.  I had a fantastic instructor who encouraged learning, did not make you feel like an idiot, was kind and gentle, yet expected nothing less than excellence (or at least that you tried your very best).  No doubt she was called to be a teacher. 

I am honestly having a hard time remembering my first patient in the hospital, but do remember it being the first time that I would have to try and get someone on a bedpan by myself.  In the nursing home, we teamed up a lot to work faster.  But now, we had to learn to manage our time as well.  It took me around an hour to get this poor person on the bedpan, wait for them to finish, and get them off and clean them.  And guess what?? It spilled.  So, now, after making a bed on a bedridden patient, I had to do it all over again.  It was horrible.  I kept thinking, “This is NOT what I signed up to do”.  It was not until later that I truly learned how important it was to know everything from the ground up about skills and how to care for a patient because I would certainly be training, delegating, and evaluating those who were also going to be doing these things.