How It All Began

I had never been a good student in Jr. and High school, so for most of my life I felt that college was just not for me. But, I was 26 and newly divorced with a five-year old to support. I was working two minimum-wage jobs and just barely making ends meet. I though, is this all there is? Is my whole life going to be just this? Working all the time at a job I don't like, always too tired and too broke to have any fun, never having enough money to buy any of the things I want for myself and my son? I refused to accept that. I realized that the only way my life was going to change, was if I changed it. No one else could or would do it for me. So I decided to give college a try.

With a slightly hopeful but gaurded attitude, I filled out a FAFSA online. (Free Application For Federal Student Aid.) Then I drove my boat, my '86 Ford Crown Victoria, down to the local Community College and filled out an application there. I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this was all an exercize in futility, that something was going to go wrong and I wouldn't be accepted, but, at least I would have done something. And if college didn't work out, I was sure I would be presented with another avenue to change. But, three weeks later I got a letter from the college saying, "Congratulations, you have been accepted, and this is your financial aid amount... etc." So, I was going to college.

Now I had to choose a program. Another reason I had never gone to college was that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and was not in posession of any great talent in any area. But, at that time, my main motivation was providing for myself and son and I knew that nurses made quite a bit of money and the healthcare field was fairly recession-proof, so I decided nursing was the way to go.

Now that I had been accepted, I was terrified. I hadn't been in any kind of educational arena for almost ten years. What if I failed? Then there would be loans and grants to re-pay, not to mention the devastating hit to my already small self-esteem from which it would never recover, and (shudder) crawling back to my manager at McDonald's in defeat, begging for my job back. But I knew all I could do was try my best and deal with the consequences, good or bad.

I met with an academic counsuelor. I had to take almost a year of pre-requisites for the nursing program and then wait on a waiting list for a spot in the program to open up. I knew I would be in school for three or even four years for an AA degree, but I was determined.

On the first day of school, I was nearly sick with nerves when I got to my math class. I have always had a high reading and writing level and can spell and define almost any word in the dictionary, but I was really bad at math. Since fourth grade it had always been my worst subject, and in the past, teachers didn't have the time or the inclination to help me "get it" and had just passed me over, confirming in my mind that I was hopeless. But over the course of the quarter, I was pleasantly surprised. I had lucked in to one of the best math instructors at the college. He had a passion for math, great knowlege and understanding of his subject and a no-nonsense but kind and patient teaching style. If you really wanted to understand something, he would go over it again and again, using different techniques until you got it. For the first time in my life, I was understanding and- dare I say, enjoying,- math. That first quarter I took spanish, english and math. At the end of the quarter I had a cumulative GPA of 3.9 and was on the President's Honor Roll. I was shocked to discover that I was smart. I could do this!

I continued to do well in my pre-requisite classes. I had a great instructor for biology and really enjoyed it. Even though I had heard it was tough, I was excited to take Anatomy and Physiology. I enjoyed the challenge and the learning in the first half of my first quarter of A and P, but then, we had to start lab dissections. I had been raised a vegetarian, had never even so much as cut in to a piece of meat. So, when I walked into lab that first day, on top of being sickened by the smell of formaldehyde my lab partners and I were presented with a pale, shriveled fetal pig, to be our specimen for the rest of the quarter. I decided to face my fear head-on and offered to open. As I was working, my lab partners asked, "Are you okay?"

"Sure." I said. Even to my own ears my voice sounded weak and breathless.

"You better stop, you're really red." on of my partners said. I was horribly embarrassed as one of them took my arm and led me shakily out the door. After that I never went back into the lab. I kept up with the lectures in classes and book-work because I wanted to learn as much as I could, and ended up failing the class with a 1.8. Thankfully I did well enough in my other classes that my cumulative GPA didn't drop below passing, but my plan to be a nurse was over. I knew that if I couldn't handle a dissection, I probably wouldn't do well as a nurse doing injections, handling bodily fluids, etc. So I started looking for a new direction. I wanted to stay in the health-care field, but couldn't think of anything that didn't involve direct patient-care.

So I headed to the counsuelor's office in the health-sciences building. While I was waiting a paper on a rack next to the door with information about the Health Information Technology program caught my eye. It stated that the average pay for someone in this position was almost as high as a nurse's and that job opportunities were plentiful. I asked the counsuelor about it, and she told me an RHIT does medical coding. I decided to give it a try. Thankfully, there was no waiting list, I started the program the next quarter. The first year of the program, I took medical terminology, anatomy and physiology (These courses had no lab requirement), and Introduction to HIM. (Health Information Management). Unfortunately, that class, which I had been looking forward to, didn't tell me much about what a Health Information Technician really does. It was mostly the history of the profession, which was great, but I wanted to know what my job was actually going to be.

For the entire first year in the program, I was pretty clueless as to why I was learning what I was learning and what it's application would be in the real world after college. And that's why I started this blog. Maybe you're in the same place, thinking about going to college, wondering if it's the right move. Trust me, it is. Maybe you don't have a clue what you want to do. A lot of people are in the same boat. My advice is, just give it a try. Going to college was the most empowering experience of my life. I learned so much about myself, and I had so many new experiences. Just starting school is bound to expose you to something you never even knew existed that could turn out to be your calling.

Maybe you're like me, you have kind of stumbled across and into a Health Information Management Technician program, but you have no clue what your actual job is going to be, and why you need to take these seemingly useless classes. Hang in there, I will cover that in this blog next week. It all began to come together for me in the second year, but during the first year there was a lot of frustration stemming from not knowing what my job was going to be and why I had to wade through all this stuff that seemed pretty general, uninteresting and from that early perspective, fairly useless. Now I know that it was important, it was laying the foundation. You have to have certain core skills on which to build the job-specific skills you learn in your second year. It was all worth it.

Fast forward three years to the present day. I was excited and proud on graduation day which was one month ago. Most of the members of my class have already found jobs as Medical Record Clerks, Emergency room Coders, Quantitative Analysts etc. There are so many different Avenues and job options in the field.

And me? Three weeks after graduation I got a job that far exceeds my expectations. I got hired as a Forms and Records Analyst II with the Department of Corrections. I work at a prison in Medical Records. I just finished my first week of work and I love it. My pay is quite a bit more than I expected right out of school, I supervise the Medical Records Department, albeit a small one, three employees in a records room. But I have my own office. Not a cubicle mind you, but a real office, with a window. I still have the '86 Crow Vic, because it has sentimental value, but I also just bought a brand-new 2010 car and next month, I'm moving to a bigger apartment (we lived in a 1-bedroom all through college). I went from being a minimum-wage McDonald's employee to a proffessional in a respected, growing field. It changed my life. My sister said, "Success looks good on you.", and I have already inspired people in my life. My boyfriend and his sister just registered for college last week. (I think it might have had something to do with me rolling up to their house in my new car.)