Letter of recommendation to into nursing school

This is my first Reddit post. We Are in Indiana as well as it seems requirements differ so much from state to state from my research on this. My daughter has an early September birthday so although the district cut off is “August 1” we have a state cut off for “Oct 1” you are able to petition for early entrance. She has done preschool for a year and her preschool teacher did an assessment that indicates she is ready. I spoke with the district principal and he said it’s such a personal choice he can’t recommend one way or another. He also did an assessment. But we will not know those results until June 1. From my understanding these assessments are just identifying letters, shapes, colors which my child is able to do. My son is in kindergarten this year so I am well aware kindergarten is much more than this now. They learn to read,write, tell time. Honestly my mind has been blown every week with what they learn. My child wants to go to kindergarten but I guess I am worried about sending her early. I just don’t want her whole academic career to have me thinking “what if” we waited. My husband wants to do whatever the assessment indicates. I am just torn. I know so much is required of kids and I don’t want to ruin school for her for 13 years as far as making friends or feeling “too young” she is mature and plays well now with kids in her preschool that will be entering kindergarten but I know that can change. I am just trying to forecast to make sure I am not doing her a disservice by trying to start early. I have done my own research but just looking for other opinions.

Hi!
I haven’t posted on this sub in literally years. I wanted some advice and possible personal anecdotes from people who have been through the same thing. I applied for the first time to medical school in 2020; was rejected due to low GPA (3.0c and like 2.9s) and sub 500 MCAT scores. Going into 2021, I took post-bac courses to bring up my GPA, but it barely moved since I had already graduated by then and had taken so many courses already. I ultimately ended up giving up after this realization and was able to enroll in a nursing program in 2022, with the goal of becoming an NP or CRNA. I’ve decided within the last year that becoming an NP would not align with my goals, and I wanted to pursue medical school again. -current GPA 3.0 for core and 3.0 for science (some of my pre-reqs for nursing school helped my science GPA because they fall under the science category) -492 and 496 MCAT scores in 2020 (both now expired) -I graduate from nursing school this august -planning to enroll in the masters of biomedical sciences courses offered by the medical school I’m interested in -will be retaking my MCAT within the next 2 years
I’m feeling a bit defeated, as that same school had a general admissions chat recently, and their director relayed that ADCOMS look unfavorably on people who were in the medical field before (nurses, EMTs, paramedics etc.) because they ask why did they change their mind?
I am wondering if anyone can offer insight on how I could frame my application to get the best results. I feel as though I have extenuating circumstances that can explain faults on my application but I just need some guidance. -my 492 and 496 were taken a month apart right after I finished my first undergrad degree; I took my second attempt a few days after my family received the news that my cousin killed his girlfriend -I am a URM and my family could not fathom the thought of me going to medical school (took too long, too much debt, not making money to add to the family fast enough). My grandmother literally told me that my peers will pass my financially for being in school so long and that I won’t be able to contribute to the family if I pursue medicine, so I sought nursing as a stable and quicker option to address the financial needs of my family and myself.
I am hoping someone out there will be able to resonate and advise me on what to do. Thank you all in advance for your help!

“We’re a meat family,” my dad would proudly tell strangers. He’d wait for the quizzical look, then launch into detail, starting with how many freezers we had, how long we could sustain ourselves on the contents. It was just his way of starting a conversation, which made sense when you considered that raising and home-killing animals for food was, for want of a better term, his life-long hobby. His prize possession was one of those industrial-sized vacuum sealers: you could put half a pig inside and wrap it in plastic so tightly that every wrinkle and skin fold waxed unreal with shiny detail.
If we hadn’t lived in a rural area, albeit semi-urbanised, I guess it would have been pretty weird. But the mostly farming-stock locals only found his extra enthusiasm a little bit odd.
When he wasn’t being a bit embarrassing talking about it, I never really paid much heed to his hobby. I had a child’s vaguely grateful awareness that though our family went through some lean financial times, our stomachs never suffered like some of the families around us. All the beef, pork, ham and bacon in those big old chest freezers passed down from his dad really could have fed us for years.
I should preface all this by saying that I wasn’t a particularly bright kid, though neither was I dumb. I didn’t fail badly at anything in school, I just never achieved beyond a pass. I didn’t know it yet back then, still quietly dreaming about being a ballet star or a dressage champion, but mediocrity was my destiny. And I think that’s why I got on so well with my Aunt Liz.
Liz was my dad’s live-in youngest sister. She was one of those women who get described as ‘bubbly’ — not really pretty, not really smart, not a lot going on besides just being… well, all Liz. But she was salt of the earth; kind, caring, and great with kids. She was the only person who would willingly mind my two older brothers, who fought like hellcats and caused more trouble than the whole last generation of my family combined. People would privately lament to my parents that it was a shame Liz didn’t have kids of her own, but dad would just shake his head and say Liz liked it that way – that all the fun of looking after kids is being able to give them back to their parents.
I guess she was like me; nice, but mediocre. Lovely, but somehow forgettable when she wasn’t doing something for you.
But when Liz left us, I couldn’t forget her.
In hindsight, it was pretty weird timing that we had a big fortieth birthday party for Liz right before she disappeared. She was radiant that night; she’d hired a local girl to do her hair and makeup, and it was honestly the first time I’d ever seen her look pretty. She’d even worn a push-up bra under a tight red dress, which flattered her very plump curves well enough that the neighbour’s farmhand was spotted disappearing into the woolshed with her for a snog. In my dawning awareness, that gave a plain girl hope: if Aunty Liz could get a guy at forty, maybe things would turn out okay for me.
Anyway, I couldn’t forget how her pink cheeks, her eyes, her whole self, glowed that night before Liz went to bed. She said it was the best birthday ever, and that she was very much looking forward to the next stage of her life.
Would I have done anything different, if I had known? If I had realised what, exactly, that next stage was?
The week after the party, Aunt Liz said she was going on a little holiday up north, to visit some old school friends. She packed her things – she didn’t honestly have that many – and drove her little orange mini out onto the main road. And with a wave of one fleshy hand, she was gone. Nobody really thought much of it when she didn’t call, because nobody rural had cellphones back then. And Liz was, as I said, somehow kinda forgettable when she wasn’t right in front of you.
When we hadn’t had contact for six weeks, Dad tracked down the land line numbers for their old school buddies. They were surprised to hear from him — Liz had never arrived, so they had just assumed she’d cancelled her visit. No-one had thought to check. I eavesdropped on the conversation, and it sounded for all the world like *they* had forgotten about Aunt Liz, too.
From there it became a missing person case. The local cops came and talked to all of us; the farmhand who’d been seen snogging her was briefly detained, then let go, dad got grilled at length, even my hellion brothers were questioned thoroughly to see if this was one of their wild and dangerous pranks gone wrong.
But everything was a dead end. Nobody knew where Liz was, or what had happened to her.
The remains of her old mini were found halfway across the country, burned out on a beach, on a derelict stretch of ragged, rocky coastline. The police assumed murder and combed the area for remains. But even the most expert divers couldn’t conquer the incredible undertow and fast-shifting seabed of that coastline to look for evidence, so none was forthcoming.
Eventually the cops collectively shrugged and said that there was really nothing more they could do unless more information suddenly came to light. The locals knew nothing, no witnesses had come forward, and the trail was cold. As far as anyone knew, poor aunt Liz had been murdered on some desolate beach, far away from her home.
It didn’t feel fair to me. She’d once mentioned wanting her remains buried on our farm, in the graveyard plot beside grandma and grandad.
So, in my grief, I went into her room to look for something of hers to bury beside them.
Like I said, Liz didn’t have many things. Her room was pretty spartan, and her wardrobe was mostly sensible farm stuff. There was one exception: she, like me, did like to read, and she had a pretty good collection of well-thumbed books. I think it’s the escapism – even the most mediocre girl can lose herself in the plot of some trashy romance novel, imagine there’s still hope of being swept off her feet by that handsome stableboy, his inexplicable yearning for chubby plain girls.
So I set myself the task of going through the books, to find the right one to bury in the graveyard plot.
Most of them were exactly what you’d expect, but some of them were racier than I was used to. I felt various parts of my body flushing and tingling, as I read breathless prose about calloused hands touching the softest flesh of the protagonist. Okay, if I’m honest with myself, I might have got a little *too* invested in my project at that point. But that was also why I persisted going through her entire collection, until I found the ragged paperback from 1970, entitled Tawny Sands. And inside that trashy cardboard romance cover, I discovered not the tale of Tawny Sands, but some carefully hand-cut, stitched-in pages. A handwritten story in my Aunt’s rounded penmanship: Memoirs of a Long Pig.
I read her story twice in a row, utterly gripped.
Aunt Liz was no Stephen King – heck, she wasn’t even the Goosebumps guy – but her story was gripping and compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Even if I hadn’t known her, I think that would have been true.
The gist of it was that Liz, when she was sixteen, had discovered that our family had a very long history of eating what she described as ‘Long Pork’. It’s an antipodean term, anglicised from the Pacific Islands: human meat.
Like me, young Liz still had some hopes and dreams. In one of her many failed attempts to find a special talent, she’d taken up cooking as a hobby. Naturally, with our family’s overabundance of meat, she’d scoured the freezers in the shed for ingredients: the racks of ribs and stacks of pork chops, butcher-paper wrappings all neatly labelled with the first letter of the name of the animal they came from.
She found familiar meat from Rodney, one of the pigs that had been recently slaughtered, emblazoned with an ‘R’ in her father’s strong, blocky lettering. There were cutlets labelled ‘M’ for Mary, from one of the lambs she’d hand-reared, and ‘F’ for Ferdinand, the steer they’d killed the month before. But she couldn’t explain the many, many curious parcels of meat on one side of the huge freezer, all labelled ‘J’ – at least, not until she took it all out and assembled it as well as she could on the scoured concrete floor of the killing shed. A big, frozen jigsaw puzzle without the box, her best attempt to discover what kind of beast the pieces had come from.
The animal, she quickly realised, was a Long Pig. Her own Aunt Jenny, who had died the month before – just after her fortieth birthday.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, for Liz, her father entered the shed right at that moment and realised his daughter had discovered the family secret. He sat down calmly on the lid of the freezer, and explained to her that this was a long-running family tradition, dating back to at least before his grandfather had been born.
“There are always people in life, Liz,” he’d said, “who won’t really amount to much. They want to be useful, want to be more. They strive and they strive, trying job after job, hobby after hobby, trying to hit on something they’re really good at. Something that makes them special. Those people can waste their whole lives, chasing dreams that never come true. Eventually they die unfulfilled, knowing that all their time has been wasted. That what they leave behind will fade quickly.”
His voice was oddly gentle as he leaned down and patted one of the neatly wrapped cuts of Aunt Jenny, still sitting frozen on the shed floor.
“Your Aunt Jenny was one of those people. So was my Aunt Irene.” He paused to gaze at his daughter, his next words peppered with emphasis. “But you see, my sweet Liz, they did find a purpose in life. They did find a way to be special, and they left this world utterly certain of their gift.” He stood up, stretched his back. “Let me show you.”
Liz waited while my grandad meticulously stacked the meat back into the freezer, all but one J-marked parcel that looked for all the world like a thick venison steak. He took her back to the farmhouse, and reverently unwrapped the deep red, heavily marbled meat to let it thaw. Then he laid it in the family’s ancient, cast-iron pan, basting it with butter and rosemary until a heavenly scent filled the kitchen, and Aunt Liz couldn’t stop her mouth from watering.
“Just try it. Let her show you. You’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”
Even though she knew it was her aunt, Liz couldn’t stop herself from taking that first bite. There was something transcendent about the smell, overriding her natural revulsion that this was human meat, not one of their farm animals. For the first time, she truly realised it: we’re just another kind of animal. And weren’t her memories of Mary the lamb almost as fond as her memories of Aunt Jenny?
Liz explained then, in her curly handwriting, the explosion of taste that had assaulted her when she tried the steak. It was tender, it was succulent, it was rich beyond imagining. The fats melted on her tongue, lingering somewhere between pork and beef, but oddly neither. The flavour of the meat defied identification; something familiar, yet not.
But one thing she couldn’t deny; it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. Tears dripped onto her plate, mingled with the juice, the grease — not grief, but a pure, real, giddy delight.
“You’re tasting your aunt’s love for this family,” my grandad explained. “Her entire life was carefully curated, to eventually make unforgettable moments for us, just like this. This was her way of being special. This was the greatest gift she could possibly bring to our world – and because she realised that, she died with not a single regret. She knew her life had purpose. She was perfectly, completely fulfilled.”
I felt those words. I felt them lodge in my own belly, settling uncomfortably deep. I knew Aunt Liz, probably better than anyone else in the family. I’d seen how fucking happy she’d been on her fortieth, how goddamn fulfilled she was, despite apparently being a *nobody* and achieving *nothing*. Somehow, in the space of a single day, she had gone from being a forgettable background character to becoming the *main character*, immortalising herself in our family’s history with her sacrifice. Quite literally becoming part of all of us, forever.
I went to the killing shed after I finished with the book. I looked inside the freezers.
But there were no vacuum-sealed packages labelled ‘L’, no matter how deep I dug into the frozen stacks of plastic-wrapped flesh. Panicked now, not sure if I wanted to connect all the dots or unconnect them, I tried to think back over the last few months, recall any meals that had been unusually good. A few Sundays ago, we’d had a stew that really hit the spot and left me craving more. And I realised that the family had a really good night that night; my brothers behaved themselves, my parents didn’t fight, and grandma and grandad had been there. Hadn’t they looked far more… expectant than they should have?
I strained my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the homekill bag on the kitchen bench – if I’d registered what letter it was. I knew it wasn’t an L. I would have remembered if it was an L.
And then it hit me, the memory, the connection, sizzling as if branded with a hot iron.
It had been an ‘E’.
E for Elizabeth. Not for Edward the pig.
I snorted at my own stupidity – of *course* Liz was short for Elizabeth – and as I comprehended my lack of smarts, I felt something give inside me.
I wasn’t clever, and nothing, nothing would ever make me smart. I had no big talents. I wasn’t beautiful, or even cute – and even if I had a million plastic surgeries, it still wouldn’t fulfill me. It wouldn’t be real.
I was a Liz.
I was a Jenny.
I was whoever the first aunt had been, the aunt who had dedicated her life to making her flesh as delicious as possible, who had worked every damn minute to be the best Long Pig she could ever be.
I wondered how many magical family evenings had been spent eating Aunt Jenny. How many glorious, satisfying, memorable dishes had been made out of her.
And… I wanted that. I wanted to finally know I had a *purpose* in life. One so simple, and so easy to achieve.
I wanted what Aunt Liz had.
***
It's my fortieth birthday today and I’m so fucking excited. For the last twenty-four years, I’ve dedicated myself to this moment; I’ve eaten exactly what I needed to, I’ve exercised just enough, but not too much, to maintain that perfect balance of marbling vs tenderness. I’ve relaxed and meditated to keep all those amazing flavours inside of me. I’ve researched all the greatest meats in the world, from prime Angus beef to A5 Wagyu. I really think I may have outdone myself.
I’m having my hair and makeup done at the local salon this afternoon, and I’m going to look so pretty; all prize piggy on show at the fair. I’m even going to have a big red ribbon in my hair, in memory of Aunt Liz.
Maybe there’ll be a cute boy I can snog in the wool shed, maybe there won’t – I don’t really care; because the most important, most certain thing is that I’m going to be the most delicious Long Pig in the history of our entire family.
I’m going to make everyone so damn happy, and I’m just so glad I can share my story with you all, instead of hiding it in a grubby book like poor Aunt Liz.
My only real disappointment? That you won’t get to taste me.
Reader, I have loved, loved my life. My Long Pork will be out of this world: once tasted, never, ever forgotten.

Our school terribly informed us about what we need for recognition in those countries, which is why my friends and I, using the magical ability of hindsight have crafted the perfect IB to target CS Unis in Benelux/ Germany and maximize score.
This will work in most western European countries, I just know for a fact it would in the aforementioned
Math AA HL, this one will be brutal but is super vital, this is the subject you will focus most time on
English B HL, this one will pretty much give you free 6-7s for most people, and will be a vital part of being recognized as an “Abitur”
CS HL, this one is relatively hard but super helpful in learning the basics for Uni
Phys/Bio/Chem SL, whatever you feel most comfortable in, vital for Abiturrecognition in Germany
Whatever your native language is as a B language, will get you a free 7
Humanity (recommend economics) SL, humanities are a lot easier at SL level, and with this you will have a full Abitur recognized.
Other than CS HL and AA HL most of these subjects will be a very easy study- high grade ratio, with selections automatically getting you into most computer science/ data science/ ai courses. If anyone wants to maximize IB and is planning on studying in the names countries, this is the way to go

Hey there guys! I'm a first gen girl from North India in class 12 cbse from a middle class family of 7. Im putting this info here only for 2 days b4 deleting. Guys it would be very helpful if u can chance me and tell me what I can do to improve(advice me here or on pm ) . Im not posting this on chanceme due to the toxicity there . My school is basically a school where people have very little interest in applying abroad there is no counselor and very limited knowledge but yeah couple of teachers are supportive mainly prep for jee or neet is done here. So there are no clubs or extracurricular activities of any kind I have done this all on my own).
Major: physics Uchicago ed1 Sat:1580(800 math) Grades 9-96 10-92 11-70 ( this happened due to bouts of pneumonia and typhoid throughout year due to which I couldn't go to school and even missed a few exams . There was also heavy grade deflation)(this is my applications weakest point pls advice me about what I can do . I'll be mentioning this in sop and my teacher will also mention this in lor) 12-96(expected) AP: my school doesn't provide and they are expensive af Financial aid: no ( loans and external scholarship maybe I'll ask for 18-20k/yr from uchicago cuz coa is 97k/yr)
Awards and honours 1. Research paper award (international) 2. Conrad challenge top50
3.ioqm

1. aknowlegment by hon' PM Modi for continued efforts to bring improvement in society ( also got acknowledged by ministry of education)
   
2. School academic distinction 9-10
   

ECS

1. 2. 3. All three are research papers 1 on math reviewed by UIUC prof and 2 on physics (astro) that have also been acknowledged by iiser profs
2. Astronomy app
3. Braille and sign language educator at local school have held initiatives and workshops as well as working on making a free course right now
4. Research with iit prof ( ongoing)
5. Research project - an innovation hailed by ministry of health and iit profs.
6. Tutor for underprivileged children for 4 years
7. Book on physics (250+ pages still writing)
8. Mun and debates or a research project I'm doing this summer
   Essays i must say are nice ( I'm a good writer as well as quite into philosophy)
   

Letter of recommendation - my teachers love me and must say the draft of my chemistry teacher lor is a piece of art. And I'm hoping if iit prof will also write me one.
So yeah this is it. I know I was a bit vague it's because I didn't wanna get doxxed. PS I have also built a small electromagnetic particle accelerator at home. 🌟

hi all, it’s my first time posting so i’m going to try and make this as clear as i can, open to clarifications if needed!
so, i am offered by SIT for their UoG nursing programme and i am very short in time to make a decision on which i should pursue because both have their strengths. I am considering SIT because of what they offer (specifically the glasgow programme) but i am also worried about the trimester system they’re using. i was also pre empt on how rigorous the lessons can be as well.
on the other hand, i was also looking into taking a part time degree in nursing prior to receiving an offer letter from SIT, as back then i wasn’t confident in even receiving an offer from them. I was considering la trobe at that point in time, and currently still reading more into other schools (i.e. kings college, curtin etc)
as i am just literal days away from the deadline, i hope people who have gone through the dilemma i am facing, or who have chosen either paths to share their experiences and why they chose that way.
thank you!

A few weeks ago, I felt dejected upon seeing my results for the USTET and ACET, both were my dream schools but unfortunately I didn't get in. I hoarded the past posts of people in Tomasino and the ateneo sub especially in the megathread in hopes I may be able to get myself reconsidered, from getting details such as the formatting to understanding the purpose, contents, and such of the reconsideration letter which I was able to make at least a week after the results were released. There was this one particular comment though which set me interacting with people of prestige and that involved the letter of endorsement.
The comment detailed how his friend was able to get into UST after talking to a Dominican Priest whom she was able to show her masterful works. That drove me into actively looking for priests to talk to myself. I didn't know anyone, nor did I know the process, but I was ready, I was ready to be interviewed, ready to show my works, ready to endorse myself to whomever was willing to help me in my endeavor, which also involved helping my friend attain a letter of his own. I asked my church friends if they knew any, and even joined religious groups on facebook to see if I could get into contact with anyone and after a while in passivity, a church leader friend messaged me. Apparently, he knew a Dominican friar and so, I pleaded with him which I really didn't have to given we were close and he was really willing to help. After detailing my situation, he set us up with the said friar in the Sto. Domingo church.
Fast forward to a week later, we were able to have an insightful conversation with him, but unfortunately he said he couldn't help our situation but recommended me to go into UST to talk to the priests there, or as an alternative which my aforementioned church leader friend and a priest from the church endorsed, approach the bishop of Cubao himself. I do admit that the meeting demoralized me, and I went home rather broken but a good sleep, short conversation with a friend whom I was also helping get into UST, and Miki Matsubara's Mayonaka No Door later, and I'm back in the game. I wrote a letter to the bishop for the both of us and asked his hand in endorsing us, especially that we were alumni in the school that housed the seat of the Diocese with weights to carry. Honestly, I wasn't really able to pour my heart and soul into that letter, unlike my reconsideration letters for ADMU and UST which I worked on in a computer shop for better focus, and I thought it wasn't written that well, but I gave what I could give, and was ready to face the uphill process I thought it was going to face. It helped that we had a late mother's day dinner to seal the day too.
A day later, I went to the obispado and gave the letter to the guard with whom I conversed with again after an errand in school regarding my DLSU grades form. He told me to come back yesterday and I did, unfortunately, still nothing but this time the different person on the desk asked me for my contact details. I was optimistic, and was willing to wait even more, but I didn't think it would be as quick as one day later. This morning, at least hours after I had once again checked my emails for updates, they called and told me to return. I was excited, and rushed to leave. "This is it" I thought. "We finally got an endorsement letter!" The guard enthusiastically gave them to me and the sister, whom I assume was Bishop's secretary, asked me to check if it was alright to avoid any issues and after reading the short but meaningful contents, I was happy.
My happiness was fanned further by seeing the K-Wave canned coke finally arrive in the Philippines after having it in Osaka.
Although right now time and slots are our enemy, being endorsed by the bishop is a good thing, a relatively big milestone, and a good impression I suppose to both universities run by Catholic orders. I didn't get any letters from either the Jesuits or Dominicans, but I am happy I got to meet with the latter in the quest for España and Katipunan. Thank you so much bishop!!!!
I suppose this deserves a little celebration 'no?

I don’t know why I’m writing this or what I hope to accomplish in doing so, but it’s 4am and I cannot sleep.
Before I went into high school I made a plan of what I wanted to accomplish. It was a “this is going to happen no matter what” sort of plan. The plan b in my eyes was “don’t screw up plan a.” Anyways, I wanted to be an astronaut. I had plans to major in astrophysics at MIT and work my way up to a career at NASA. I had dozens of programs, extracurriculars, clubs, etc planned out for my resume. It was so exciting.
Except, freshman year of high school I developed multiple medical issues (migraines, GERD, fainting, etc) that led to many struggles with my attendance and general performance in school. I had little emotional support at school and rumors were constantly floating around about me and why I was constantly being sent home from the nurse everyday. Pictures of me crying with stained tears were posted to various Instagram accounts with captions like “crybaby” and “pathetic.” It’s safe to say it was absolute hell.
Sophomore year I started off doing alright, but around November my health declined again. It wasn’t until February that I switched to an online academy. It was great, but here’s where I feel the guilt;
It’s been about a year now that I’ve been attending an online school. I’m a junior now and I like it, definetely a lot better than my old public school, but I can’t help but feel so guilty about not just sucking it up when I had the chance. I had the opportunity to exceed and complete all those things that could have placed me into MIT. Yes, it’s a hard school to get into, but there absolutely zero chance now. At least beforehand I would’ve had a semi shot. I hate myself so much for not pushing harder for my future. I just feel so incredibly dumb.

I graduated HS in 2020 and started as a freshman comp sci major in uni that fall. Due to multiple reasons, I only completed about half of my degree in the past 4 years. Lots of anxiety and depression that I never experienced before college crept into my life and I practically failed 3 entire semesters at uni. I came home to do a semester of no school and straight minimum-wage work and then did a semester at a local community college to finish out most of my gen eds. I'm on academic probation at the aforementioned uni and was rejected readmission due to a slight GPA difference, even after a successful semester at community college. I then took this past spring semester to just continue working and self-improving and decided to apply as a transfer student (still comp sci) at a less competitive university that is a little closer to home. I was accepted and plan to start classes in the fall. Throughout my semesters, I passed all my gen eds and required math courses, but the only comp sci related courses i passed were an intro 1 and 2 course, as well as data structures/algorithms. It's been so long since I even coded, and I barely remember anything more complex than a nested for loop. Generally, what courses should I aim for first in completing these upcoming higher level coding classes? And what content should I brush up on/practice over the summer? Any recommended websites or YT channels that are helpful for this kind of situation?
Appreciate you if you read all that lmao. Any help is good help.

For a bit of context, I just finished watching the OS, I'm going to start AYITL soon.
I have been aware of GG for a long time, reruns have been on Hungarian TV channels for as long as I can remember, but somehow I never got into it. I attribute this mostly to the fact that the title's translation to Hungarian is terrible in my opinion (a rough translation would be Hotel of Hearts), makes it seem like it's a soap opera, which has never been something interesting or appealing to me as a genre. This title doesn't hint at the fact that it's a show about 3 generations of a family and takes place in a charming small town, now these would have been reasons for me to give it a shot.
Fast forward to the summer-fall of 2023, one of my friends is rewatching the show, and casually mentions to me how great it is, so I put it on my list of stuff to watch. Also worth noting that I did know about the Lorelai-Luke epic first kiss (saw it as part of some compilation a few years ago), and that was such a great scene in itself that it motivated me to start watching the series.
So a few months back I started watching, and it didn't disappoint. At times I empathized with Rory, other times with Lorelai, it brought back bittersweet memories of graduating high school and later university, occasionally feeling just as lost as Rory, not knowing what's next. The Lorelai-Christopher situation didn't frustrate me as much as some other people on this sub, I could relate to being drawn to the safe, familiar person in your life. On the other hand, I have been rooting for Lorelai and Luke from the start and it killed me that they didn't stay together from S5 on.
So to sum it up (sorry for the long post), I started watching because of a recommendation, and stayed because of the relatable characters and storylines, funny dialogue, great acting and overall mood of the show.
What about you?

You need to update the software. Remember that little micro chip slot in the pannel before assembly? It slides right off upward. Get a micro sd card, put it in your computer and go the internet. Look up the printers name and update. Here's the site.
https://www.creality.com/pages/download-ender-3-v3-se
After that, format your micro is card into fat32. Use this one. Just click the image and it downloads, then use it to format it. http://ridgecrop.co.uk/index.htm?guiformat.htm
After that, drag and drop the TJC_SET folder into the newly formatted Micro sd card. Just this one for right now, then turn off your 3d printer completely. When you enter the micro sd into the control board, turn it back on, and the sd card will automatically update it to the latest update you downloaded.
After that is done, turn off the machine, take mixro sd out. Delete the TJCSET folder, then add the Singular Ender-3 V3 SE(long list of letters and numbers) file in the sd card now. After that, plug the micro sd card into another large sd card, then put it into the slot where it would read your files before printing.
Turn on machine.
You should be greeted with the fully reset screen. Click your language, then let it auto level on it's own. After that, all leveling should he single green numbers. There ya go. That's all.
No extruder sliding off the plate, no more bad leveling. It's done and the z-axis is leveled perfectly. Also use orca slicer...not cura. It's much better. I also still recommend a purple large gluestick in order to insure your print sticks on this printer. Have fun!

I will be a Junior in BSN program and i’m wondering what the TEAS test is. I say this bc i see a lot of ppl struggling with it but never had to take it. I went to a high school where I was blessed to graduate with two associates degrees for free. got into a direct entry nursing program as a “freshman” but i was in the sophomore nursing classes as i did all my prereqs besides micro and basic physiological chemistry which are done now (yayyy). we started with 24 students and now there is 10 or 11. it’s summer so im going to be a junior this upcoming semester. is there programs near y’all that are direct entry or don’t have a TEAS requirement? the school i got my Associate degrees from had the TEAS for their nursing associates but my current University does not. what id say is go to the cheapest community college in your area even if its a “only associates” type of school (if possible), go in as healthcare major and take the prereqs then transfer to a college that doesnt require that if possible if you’re struggling.. idk

I woke up to seagulls this morning, I really like the sound of them. I mean they don’t make pretty sounds, nor is it relaxing, but it feels like a comforting noise I guess? I think because I like being by the sea. I’m not sure. It was nice though. I love living by the sea, like I hear ship horns and seagulls and all of that. It makes me forever paranoid of tsunamis though. I think I’d like to live in a little seaside town with my honey, but I also don’t because then I couldn’t have the garden of my dreams nor would I have the countryside lifestyle I want. I don’t really know what I want. I don’t think I have enough money to be all that picky anyway.
I kind of woke up with that pit in my stomach feeling today. I don’t like how our calls were last night, either one of them. The first I felt like he didn’t want to talk to me and the second it was me being like that to him. I didn’t mean to make it come across that way, but I think he just caught me out when I was mid-deep sleep? I couldn’t wake up or focus and idk. Normally I’m fine to wake up though? And I love his night time calls, to know he’s thinking about me makes me feel so warm inside. It feels weird to think I ever cross his mind when we aren’t in an active conversation, I guess that comes back to the self esteem thing and feeling unworthy of being a thought in his mind, not feeling important enough, or something. But in that second call, I guess I didn’t like that he got me off the phone earlier because he was so sleepy, but then it turned out he was still up and about two hours later? It made me feel like he lied about being tired to get rid of me. I don’t think that was the case, but it’s how it made me feel in the moment. Anyway I woke up feeling uneasy, I felt okay but a little uneasy so I made sure to apologise. I think as well because I fell asleep feeling a little uneasy, it felt like he rushed me off the phone or like I was boring him to death or something. But it made me think about how it’s only 9pm where he is, and that he could quite easily have someone come over around that time. I don’t believe he would do that, but it scares me all the same. The way in which he could crush me into nothing is a little frightening sometimes, it really feels like I’ve just laid out my sad little heart out there for him to stomp all over if he so wishes to do so. I know if he did end things I would be okay, I think, but I can’t say I don’t worry about how it would affect my mental health and “recovery” - how far would it set me back? But also that’s not on him at all, and I’m never ever going to imply as such to him. He ought to make decisions based on what he wants and is best for him. Anyway it’s fine and we talked this morning and nothing has changed for him either, we both still want each other and this so it doesn’t even matter. I still feel bad about how I made him feel. I’m really glad, even though I made him feel bad which I wish I hadn’t, but sometimes it really helps to have him say he still wants this. I know his actions speak louder than words, but sometimes I need the words too. And so him saying “I’m still the same” was really reassuring and made me feel so lovey.
I’ve made a hair appointment, for end of June. I kind of wanted it early June as my hair is annoying the f out of me now, but her first available slot is end of June sooo I guess it still works out well. It gives me five weeks to continue growing out my layers so that we can start afresh. I’m going to get my face framies cut shorter this time as they grow out so quickly. I think otherwise I’ll get very subtle layering, enough to add some movement and help it air dry nicely, but I want the ends as thick as possible too. I’ll get a general root touch up to darken them up a little, and then a tonegloss for the lengths to cool down the warmth a little and darken it up ever so slightly. And then I’ve booked in for a full on olaplex treatment, so that will be nice. I am all about my hair health this year. I always have been but now even more so.
It’s so autumnal today. I really want to watch my favourite cosy romcoms, their autumn scenes are always my most absolute favourite. And winter I suppose. Basically Meg Ryan in autumn is my favourite thing and comforts me to no end.
I think I assume that if I know something then everyone else must know it too, so when they don’t I find it baffling that they don’t know. I guess because I consider myself thicker than a brick and everyone else smarter than I am, so I’d say in the team quiz no one knows the answer I start thinking how do you not know this, but that’s unfair of me and I’m making an assumption based on my low self esteem. But also I am as dumb as a rock so I mean there’s low self esteem and then there’s self awareness. But I just assume that if I know something, then it therefore must be as widely known as 2+2=4.
I’m wearing my Mon Guerlain perfume today, I quite like it, I guess I liked it a fair but considering I seem to have both a bottle of the edp and edt? I think this was during lockdown. Anyway I never wear it but I am today as it’s quite a warm scent, it’s like a warm vanilla but with a touch of lavender? Barely any lavender though, just a teeny tiny little bit. I just googled and that’s exactly what it is so yay me! Except it’s blatantly obvious so perhaps I’ll calm down on the self celebrations. Anyway it’s not one I’d replace but I do like it I suppose. It feels a little mature, not in an older woman way but in a mid-40s way. I read a comment and it said that it gives wife-and-adoring-mother with a wealthy husband, who’s just kissed her children goodnight before sweeping off in her furs to dinner and the opera. It’s classy and elegant, but with something warm and motherly to it and I get that too. Like the mama in Peter Pan! Anyway I’m a little ways off that stage of my life. But it’s a nice wfh scent I suppose. Most of my perfumes are just wfh/chill at home ones now. I wear perfume everyday, I’d say that’s silly but a) Andy tends to too and anything he does that I do makes me feel more assured it’s okay, b) I have a lottttt to get through and c) even if I didn’t have a lottttt to get through I still would because I just like to feel pretty. I may be as ugly as a troll but I will still be presentable enough. Not nicely, but perfume, groomed brows, glowy skin/skincare, my cutie lil diamond studs, brushed hair etc. Except I like a lived in look, I don’t like to look super prim and proper I prefer more bedheady hair and to look like I don’t care an awful lot, but in a nonchalant Kate Moss way not a get wrecked Adam Sandler way. Except I think Adam Sandler is the better of the two - I read he still has a regular-ish house? Then again it was the internet and I’m as gullible as… idk something gullible. That’s what I adore about Andy, he will do his own research and not believe anything outright, he’ll question it and all of that. Whereas I can just be like woowwwww crazy and then move on. There are many ways I’d like to be more like him, I don’t want to be like him but I just want to be better and he’s better so idk. He seems a little paranoid I’ll be like his ex who basically tried to become the tweedle dum to his tweedle dee, but I mean that’s never going to happen? I like to try things he likes, for example snacks and drinks and things. And if he says he enjoys using something and recommends it, ie his mouse, then I take his recommendations seriously. But I’m never going to dress or act like him, I mean I adore him but I don’t want to be a man…? I like being girly and different from him! But I just mean I like how he approaches things, I like how he handles disagreements or thinks about new information - they’re things I want to kind of learn from him. Not in a way where I’d ask because that makes it weirder. Idk. This whole thing is weird. I just admire him. Now I sound like some kinda single white female… which I am… oh god.
Todays been fine overall. I did something new workwise, getting into LOEs for H&S speeding stuff, I had a call with a manager about one of his direct reports this morning and he was like I mean is it that bad and I had to tell a 40 something grown man that it is indeed bad to speed 28km over the speed limit. For any reason. And in a branded vehicle at that. Anyway so then I had to do the letter which was fine but it’s such a confusing template so I suggested some alterations to the Head of and she said they were excellent and she would change the template letter to include my suggestions, so that made me feel good. I enjoy that part of my work, I think I like processes and policies and all of that stuff. Idk why someone with social anxiety thought it would be smart to get into PEOPLE advisory. But like I said, as thick as a brick.
I had such a fun chat with him this evening, he makes me all giggly and silly and I hate myself for saying that. The word giggle is so bleh. I mean it’s a cute word but it feels wrong to say for whatever reason. It’s like when people say “hehe” in texts or whatever, it makes me feel gross even though I don’t even mind it. I think in the right context from the right person it’s fine, but I’ve never experienced that so idk. Now I’m thinking of… something. Something we watched. And the subtitles had it as “heh heh” and I’m thinking sopranos. Anyway newsflash to no one: I love him a hellllllll of a lot.
I wish I didn’t have to go to the office tomorrow. It’s so annoying. I know it’s good for me and also my manager has outright asked me to, so I kind of have to regardless, but also I’ll just focus on the fact it’s good for me to be properly out of the house and stuff. And it has perks I guess, I can have sushi for lunch, peruse the bookshop nearby and I also don’t snack when I’m at the office, I take nuts with me but I don’t eat them because I get all anxy about if people can hear me chewing or if they think I’m some kind of insatiable ogre who can’t wait til lunch or dinner. But so I just have a few bits of sushi for lunch. Although I really want to try this Vietnamese place, they have a salad that looks so bloody good, but I’ve never been and it looks like the kind you line up for like subway and that sends a barrage of anxiety through me so maybe sometime in the future. But I also tend to get more done and idk. It’s good for me. I’ll just keep telling myself that while I hate life two days a week for the foreseeable. It’s not even that bad, it is bad anxiety wise - like yesterday I didn’t go to the bathroom for over an hour from when I needed to pee because of my anxiety, I also didn’t fill up my drink bottle or get another coffee at all for the whole day. So my anxiety is bad, but maybe over time it’ll get better, I’m sure it will, I just have to suck it up in the interim.
I think I’ll stop now because I have 10 mins exactly til 8 and I need to get entirely ready for bed and post this. I needed to blowdry my hair but I spent too long in the shower and now I don’t have time so oh well. Tbh I look like utter shite anyway lately so what’s a bad hair day to go with it? I’ll just put it up. I feel disgustingly ugly lately, I always do but especially lately. Okay now I have 8 minutes night night

Hello friends, non trad here sitting down to start my app after a couple gap years. I’m going through a school list and could use some tips as far as my best bets. My undergrad is biomedical engineering with a ~3.5 GPA (graduated 2021) and a miraculous 522 MCAT. I’m currently a paramedic is a busy urban 911 system with about 5k hours to date (both as an EMT and a medic) and another 2K for ‘future hours’. The issue I’m running into is that I have little research experience, no pubs or anything. By the time I got a lab spot, covid hit. My school had some pretty strict policies and I graduated before projects were really moving again. No longer being affiliated with a university and leaving the area obviously made finding research difficult (especially since I’d kind of thrown myself into EMS). I don’t want to waste time and money on schools I won’t have a real chance at, so I really really appreciate if anyone has any recommendations for schools that heavily weigh clinical experience. Thanks in advance !!!

Even before Indiana abortion restrictions took effect last year, Indiana in 2022 had a lower ratio (9.86) of nurses to 1,000 population than neighboring states of Kentucky ( 9.97), Michigan (10.11), and Ohio (11.09). Indiana's new abortion restrictions may result in existing and prospective nurses choosing other careers, leaving Indiana, or becoming traveling nurses. Young women especially are conscious how abortion restrictions may impact their health needs personally, let alone professionally as nurses.
https://nursejournal.org/articles/the-us-nursing-shortage-state-by-state-breakdown/
As noted in the above article, nursing shortages are a national problem to be aggravated by an expected increase in retirees as well as increased demand as Baby Boomers age and require more medical services.
<< A lack of nurse educators keeps nursing schools from being able to admit enough students to address the shortfall. A shortage of nurses means more burnout and more nurses choosing to leave the profession, contributing to the shortage.
In addition, the aging of Baby Boomers means that more nurses are retiring at a time when an aging population has a greater need for healthcare providers. The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated the nursing shortage.>>
Many Indiana women rely on medication abortions aided by doctors practicing remotely in other states, who often rely on "shield laws" in those states to protect them from prosecution in states with abortion restrictions. If anti-abortion states are successful in blocking these shield laws and restricting telemedicine abortions, Indiana may become even less attractive to young women concerned with their own reproductive rights.
<< A clash is looming between anti-abortion red states and the blue state telemedicine shield laws trying to preserve abortion access.
More than a dozen states have laws shielding medical providers and others from out-of-state investigations and prosecutions regarding abortions and gender affirming care. But six states — Colorado, Massachusetts, New York, California, Vermont and Washington — have gone even further.
Those shield laws offer protection for doctors, nurses and other practitioners who prescribe and send abortion pills to people living in states that ban or severely restrict abortion.>>
https://thehill.com/policy/healthcare/4671299-abortion-bans-clash-shield-laws/
<< According to a new report from the abortion-rights research group Society of Family Planning, nearly 8,000 people per month in states with bans or severe restrictions were getting medication abortion from clinicians operating under shield law protections from October through December 2023. >>
The personal turmoil of nursing in states with abortion bans and restrictions also lessens the desirability of those states not only for nursing recruits, but also existing nurses.
<< National articles provide a look at how some nurses and physicians are quitting or moving because they cannot handle the trauma they see when women are denied health- and life-saving abortion care during a pregnancy crisis. For instance, Leah Wilson, a Texas nurse, had to watch her pregnant patient for days as the woman’s infection worsened and drew closer to sepsis because the fetus still registered a heartbeat when the woman’s water broke at 19 weeks of pregnancy. The nurse said, “You know what? I’m not doing this anymore,” and she left her job. Wilson had worked with high-risk pregnancy patients before and provided them with support for fetal loss, but she had never seen patients denied standard medical care until after Roe v. Wade was overturned.>>
https://www.reliasmedia.com/articles/abortion-bans-lead-physicians-nurses-to-avoid-certain-states
https://www.nursingworld.org/practice-policy/work-environment/health-safety/srh-advocacy/
Shortages of nurses increase the workplace burdens and stress for remaining nurses. This can compromise the quality of healthcare for patients, as does Indiana laws providing for lax continuing education requirements and lowered training supervision quality for student nurses.
Unlike neighboring states, Indiana has no continuing education requirements for RNs or LPNs.
https://www.nursingce.com/ceu-requirements/indiana
https://www.nursingcenter.com/continuing-education/ce-state-requirements
<< Estimates predict that Indiana would need an additional 5,000 nurses by 2031, equal to graduating an additional 1,300 nurses each year until that time, according to the Indiana Hospital Association. >>
https://indianacapitalchronicle.com/2024/02/12/indiana-has-a-problem-a-lack-of-nurses-and-lawmakers-are-trying-to-help/
To increase the supply of nurses, a new bill would ease the requirements for nurses supervising student nurses.
<< While most of the bill received glowing support in testimony, one issue was a bit of a sticking point for nurses working in clinical settings: language striking minimums for preceptors, or licensed nurses supervising students during rotation. Previously, preceptors needed 18 months of experience before they could be drafted to teach and mentor the next generation.
The new law has no minimum requirement.
Rep. Cindy Ledbetter, a nurse practitioner with a doctorate, cautioned against the move, saying unprepared nurses would be given to students to address a shortage.
“My concern is you have a brand new nurse and the hospital requires them to precept and they’re not ready to translate what they’ve learned in the classroom themselves into a real-world scenario,” said Ledbetter, R-Newburgh. “(I’m concerned) that we’re going to … lose more nurses on the other end.”>>

To make it simple, there is a friend in my friend group (8 of us, we go to nursing school (together). Essentially, she held a grad party, and half of the attendees were fellow nursing students. Now this friend (let's call her Sarah) is known to have a very strong and independent personality, which turned a lot of people off in the nursing cohort. But overall, since she likes planning and is reliable, she is a good person to keep around.
That being said, at her grad party, there was a moment where she made us all sit down and write her a letter of our favorite moment together. Like legitimately, made us all sit down, and she didn't ask us "Hey guys, I'm trying to make a memory book and I would really appreciate it if you could write me a letter for our favorite memory together". She straight up said "okay, now were gonna write me letters of our favorite memory together". Everyone in this friend group is so nice and passive that they just went with it, but it really threw me off. No please, no letter in return, and it's not like she's moving away or anything.
Honestly, this isn't out of the ordinary for her, she is very forward and demanding, which has made me distance myself from her unless it is a group setting, but there are a lot of work-related things connecting us so it's hard to do. I've asked outside friends and they think it was a really narcissistic demand. I don't want to call her out on it because it's already over anyways, not to mention that it can ruin the friend group dynamic and she is the type to not really see the fault in her ways. If people cut her off, she's not one to look at herself and consider all sides. I remember her telling me she's not going to change because she likes who she is. But maybe that's just me, maybe most people don't see a wrong in the demand. For me, it's just the approach to the request, but also it could just be me overreacting since I have been clashing with her personality for some time now.
What do yall think?

Hi,
I'm currently applying to jobs in the Bay Area, CA and I've learned that it's a highly competitive area in terms of new grad nurse positions. I personally have 2-years of medical experience as an EMT/EDT, RN license, volunteer regularly as an EMT instructor & RockMed, and have a competitive GPA from nursing school. I have great letter of recommendations from my clinical instructors and professors. I normally wouldn't expose any of this information but I want to give context when I say that even with this background I cannot land a single job in the Bay Area, CA. I've had multiple interviews over the course of 5 months, but no offers yet.
I've had my suspicions after meeting other applicants from different nursing schools, and hearing that they were able to have preceptorships. My school ended up cancelling it's preceptorship program the year before I applied, and didn't bother updating their information so my cohort basically found out halfway in the program. In many of my interviews, the interviewer would ask if I had a preceptorship and where. I had to explain my situation and state that I tried really hard to make up for it in my clinicals. With such a competitive applicant pool, I can't imagine they would give me the job over the other applicants who have a similar background in addition to their preceptorship. I recently saw John Muir opened up it's application for it's new grad nurse program, and they're asking for a letter of recommendation from our preceptor.
I've been told that preceptorships don't affect our chances of landing a job, but my experiences so far in applying to jobs is pointing to the contrary. Do preceptorships have an impact in highly competitive nurse job markets like the Bay Area, CA?
I've since expanded my applications to outside the Bay Area, CA. like central California (i.e. Fresno, Visalia, etc.)

So. I graduated high school in 2021 with a low GPA like..lower than a 2.5 I believe. Covid was a big thing and it really didn’t help me at all along with some losses I had. Can I do anything to make up for the low gpa to further my acceptance? I’ve thought about working at my birds veterinarian’s office would she be able to write me a letter of recommendation for pre vet school? (only with her comfort and permission) I’m really embarrassed of this GPA and i’m aware it can’t be changed after graduation but i’m told I can make up for it I just don’t know how and I really don’t want to give up on this. I have a passion for vet med I just have to do something and I hope it reaches the right people.

Chapter 1
Mors
An endless void, silence interlaid with its pitch-darkness, greeted an injured man. No light can be seen, sensations be damned, and consciousness spread thin as though taut in this incomprehensive expanse that laid before him.
Callum fell into the abyss, his mind the only thing left to accompany him. He hasn’t even counted the minutes as his mind is plagued by something else. He never considered himself a man of interest, only scraping by with his odd jobs and part-time salaries, hence why he couldn’t understand his current situation.
Betrayal is something that he is familiar with, whether it be a betrayal of his expectations when a co-worker broke his promise or a betrayal of his emotions when his first love interest cheated on him back in uni. However, this betrayal orchestrated by his best friend whom he’d known for 5 years, and girlfriend for 8 years felt more gut-wrenching than the pain he felt from the stab.
Denial was the first thing that stormed his mind. He couldn’t believe that the two closest people in his life would stab him in the back, literally. There was no build-up, he didn’t suspect a thing, and everything was normal until he found steel in his flesh.
He rejected the notion that his girlfriend, Catherine, would betray him like this, an accomplice to a murder that he can’t grasp the motive of. He has built up some savings, but it isn’t something that would be worth murdering someone for, especially after buying that ring.
He dismissed the thought of Jake being jealous of their relationship as he couldn’t see the guy doing something as stupid as this. He can’t form any rhyme or reason as to why they would do it, and the only possible explanation is that this was all a dream and he was actually still sleeping inside the tent.
But as he waited for himself to wake from this nightmare, only darkness greeted him. He had tried moving his body in this sea of blackness, but the movement only felt like going through molasses with tired arms, which is why he attributed this as being only a dream that he would wake up from, which appeared to be wrong as he waited and waited.
Anxiety crept in as he tried to call out, but no sound escaped his lips. He strained his voice to be heard, yet he can't even hear himself. No light adorned this place, no wind to be heard, and he couldn’t feel anything even though he tried feeling himself.
The pain in his back was forgotten as he tried and tried to move, to scream, to flail senselessly, amounting to nothing as he was greeted by nothing.
Feeling anything in this void is something impossible, and the only thing that he can do is return to his mindscape.
He went back to his oldest memories, back to a time when everything felt oppressive and suffocating. Callum was born into a broken family. His mother and father had gone through a divorce when he was only 6 years old. He could still remember the screaming and yelling of his parents whenever night fell in their sorry state of an apartment.
His father, Eric, having not finished his education after Callum’s birth, has been living as a blue-collar worker in downtown New Jersey. Even during his day-offs, he can’t seem to find rest as he goes to do odd jobs and part-time work to stay afloat. On the other hand, his mother would leave him, a toddler, alone in the apartment.
He remembered her putting CDs in a DVD player so that it could keep his attention on a cartoon that his father introduced him to. If he had anything to describe his mother, she would be irresponsible and narcissistic. She would sometimes bring guys over to their apartment, threatening Callum with divorce if he ever told Eric about it, hence why it took several years until his dad caught on and filed for a divorce.
Eric was determined to take Callum with him, he argues that he could take care of his child better than Callum’s mother. But his mother and her twisted pride can’t let go of Callum, which leads to a legal dispute between the two.
The court hearings went on for several months, with each passing day being a lot more hellish for Callum. He was subjected to further insults by his mother as she knew that leaving bruises on her child would lower her chances of winning over the court to her side. Sometimes, she would go as far as manipulate him, gaslighting him into believing that she was a good mother who would take care of him better than his father. But after seeing that the court favors Eric’s side more, his mother took drastic measures to satisfy her wounded pride.
It was the second to the last day of the court hearing, and it was during this time that his father was working overtime. Callum had just gone home from his elementary school, feeling tired as he hauled his bag over his shoulders up the multiple flights of stairs he had to climb to get to their apartment.
As he neared his home, he steeled himself and opened the door, only to be met with overturned tables and broken ceramics. He walked quietly through the scene, afraid that someone might hear him entering his home. Looking back on it now, Calum can’t help himself but laugh at his stupidity. He could have gone and alerted their neighbors, or gone back downstairs to wait for his father, but being a child, Callum doesn’t know what to do.
As he entered his room, he saw black words spray painted on the walls, the meaning eluding him as he didn’t know what it meant since he was 7 at the time, but remembering it now sent shivers down his spine.
The words “This is what you get!” on a torn wallpaper are ingrained in his mind. Seeing the manic letters sprayed over the walls gave Callum anxiety, taking a few steps back towards the open front door of their apartment. Escape was now on his mind as he grew scared of what was to come, something that was far too late as he heard his mother behind him.
It was there that everything turned into a blur. He remembered snippets of yelling and crying both from himself and his mother. He remembered his mother forcing something down his throat. He remembered his father coming home early that day and restraining his mother, a crazy look in her eyes. He remembered the feeling of nausea and the floor colored with his lunch. And he remembered the sirens, red and blue lights dancing in his vision as he was carried to a stretcher. The last thing he remembered was his father crying, holding his hands tightly when he opened his tired eyes.
For the next few days, he learned from the news that his mother attempted a double suicide. The story goes, after losing the custody battle, the mother planned to take revenge by ending the lives of both her child and herself. They said that he got lucky as the neighbors had contacted Eric when his mother turned their home upside down, relating it to a possible home invasion. If not for him, Callum would have died from nicotine poisoning after his mother forced tobacco down his gullet, a morbid story that he uses as a joke during his time at work.
He remembered being inside that hospital for days on end, his body recovering from the poison his mother left him with, and his father was there almost every day even though he had to work to pay the hospital bills. After what felt like forever was he allowed to be discharged, going back to the same refurbished apartment that they lived in, but after seeing how Callum had recurring nightmares and trauma attached to the place, they decided to move to Pennsylvania. A hard decision that needed to be made as his father would put it.
Everything after the whole incident was better for Callum. His father got a job as a mover, still doing some part-time work here and there, and Callum did his best in school so as not to burden his father with more work. Even though they lived in a rundown shack handed to them by one of the locals, they didn’t mind as they knew that getting to live at all was better than what they had before.
Callum smiled in the abyss as he reminisced about his time with his father. He was a great man, a good role model for anyone who came across him. He is kind-hearted and considerate, a hard worker that makes him popular among his peers. It was them that helped move him and his father out of New Jersey and found them a place to sleep in, teaching Callum that socializing and connecting with like-minded people goes a long way when someone needs it.
For the next few years, Callum lived happily. Though there were some ups and downs, he and his father got through it, which is why the memory of his time in university was depressing.
Eric, after having saved some money, gave Callum the go-ahead to enroll in a university in California. But after attaining an athletic scholarship in football, Callum gave his father a surprise to ease his worries and stress. Callum felt bad every time he saw his father work, hence why he tried his hardest to take some of that workload to give him a break. With the tuition being lowered with the scholarship, Callum could give the rest of the money back to his dad. A gesture that was fully gratified as his father had a hard time letting him go when the time came to move over to the university. But it was during this time that tragedy struck.
It was his fourth year in studying anthropology when he heard the news from one of his father’s friends, Robby. After hearing it, he grew distressed and worried, taking a lot of convincing from Robby to keep Callum from moving back to Pennsylvania.
His father has gone missing. The news had spread amongst his co-workers and friends, and a search team was already being dispatched to find him. Even though Callum tried to keep his focus on studying, he couldn’t help but feel agitated as days went by without news of his father being seen. His mental state plummeted, and he grew withdrawn from reality as days turned to weeks, his father still gone.
He could still remember the times when he locked himself in the school’s library, searching the web to find any news or reports of his father's whereabouts, but as he searched for days on end, only one thing kept popping up from the newsletters. His father, Eric Hurst Foster, went missing in his own home. There were no struggles in the house, the CCTV didn’t see him on any of the roads or stores in the town they lived in, he just seemed to have vanished into thin air.
The news ate away at Callum, and his friends that he’d made during the time gave their support to keep him from spiraling out of control. However, even with their support, Callum’s worries over his dad never went away, hence why he threw himself into work. Going to part-time jobs and studying is the only way to keep his mind from blowing. He did this until he finished university and found a job to stay afloat.
This went on for years until he’s come to accept that his father may never be found. With nothing to ground him in their old home, he decided to explore the world, thinking that one day, he might find a lead to the whereabouts of his dad.
Months turned to years as he worked tirelessly in multiple jobs. From being a mechanic, electrician, cook, waiter, and many more to count, Callum went on a work frenzy. He made a plan to scour the states as a freelancer, living in his BMW pick-up truck that was given to him by one of his friends. He stayed in each state for a few months, meeting new people and making some friends along the way. They sent their well wishes to Callum as they knew that he was still trying to find his missing father.
Years went by as he made his way back to California. He had gone and explored every state, and yet no news of his father came to light. The case had gone cold, and it was up to Callum to find any clues to this mystery. His mind has told him to give up the search, and multiple friends have given him consolation as they knew that his father would never be found, but Callum persevered.
It was during this time that he found himself as a mover, the same job that his father had before he disappeared. He had just come back to California after getting the job, and he was about to go check in for his first day when a sudden downpour of rain covered the skies of the city. It was only coincidental that he was near that coffee shop, and it was coincidental that only two customers were present there. He and his future girlfriend turned accomplice to his murder.
The rest of his memories went by as he continued to float in the abyss. From the time of their first years in a relationship to meeting Jake for the first time in that apartment to when he taught PE and History in a school in Minnesota. Everything went by as Callum went from one memory to another until he felt something.
A chill ran down his spine as an indescribable dread manifested in his mind. He knew not why he felt this way, and he felt himself tearing at the seams as a slit of light showed itself in the void. He was then pulled into the light, senses coming back after he spent his time in the abyss for what felt like days. And with a flash, he is back in the same hunched-over position he was in when he was stabbed in the back.
Callum can’t help but laugh as he finally could see again. Trees surrounded his vision, with wild grass carpeting the ground. But before he could truly see the world, he felt a sharp pain in his back. With his body remembering that he was injured, he felt himself sweat profusely as he bled, painting the flowers under him red. And yet he didn’t panic.
After all that time reminiscing, he finally gave in and let death come to him. He fell on his back, sending another wave of pain coursing through his body, cursing under his breath as he regretted not laying himself down slowly. And as he looked to the sky, he felt himself getting colder and colder.
Callum felt at peace as he stared at the clouds above him. The sound of the wind and the rustling of leaves helped him come to terms that he was truly dying. He’d thought about death a lot. During his time when he was a kid, and when he was depressed after his father went missing. But the peace he felt for only a few moments as emotions came crashing down.
He felt himself tear up as he came to terms with his current situation. He would never have a chance to marry the girl in his life. He would never have a chance to have his own children and see them grow. He would never have a chance to be a father. And he would never have a chance to grow old with the people he loved around him.
As he thought of these things, the floodgates opened. Streams of tears fell down his cheeks as he sobbed in his dying state. He could only put his hands over his eyes to stop it from flowing, an action that felt challenging as his body became fatigued from all the blood loss. The crying only hastened his death as he felt his breath escape him, his lungs labored and filled with blood as the stab had punctured it.
Minutes went by as Callum felt himself grow tired and tired. And as he closed his eyes, Callum’s heart slowed and slowed as his body has a lack of blood to pump. His breathing grew shallower with each second until his body gave way and stopped altogether.
Callum died at the age of 34, stabbed in the back by his best friend with his girlfriend being an accomplice for his murder. He died from blood loss as his body colored the ground red.
Callum waited and waited to feel his consciousness fade as he welcomed death to greet him. And as the second grew…
'…Wait.'
His consciousness never faded away.

I wanted to get into something in the medical field, something I felt as if I could be decent or competent at and decided between nursing or medical assistant, well here I am! I’ll officially be going to school in fall!
Any tips, pointers, anything I should know? Any recommendations on ANYTHING? All information would be super helpful!