Because I had worked late into the evening yesterday, I did not have to get up as early as I had been. Of course, I thought that would mean extra time sleeping but Wiggles had other ideas. She must have run at least a mile as she chased my hand under the covers. I finally decided it was time to get up, so it was off to a long, lovely shower. I was never one for a lot of makeup so a whisp of eyeshadow, a hint of mascara and a weak spray of Shalimar. I had a quick cup of hot tea before applying lipstick.

As I rode the subway, I allowed myself to reflect on the changes I had made in my life after retiring. For so many years I had worked under the guidelines of absolutely no perfume, since some of the patients were possibly allergic or it might be offending. A touch of eyeshadow was allowed but no mascara, it could run when one was perspiring in the over heated rooms because the poor patient was freezing or perhaps it was due to the hard work. Hair was maintained in a simple do or pinned up, it never touched your collar. And heaven forbid that you even thought about artificial nails, they collected bugs and germs and were hazardous to the patient. I had gone through the clothing or uniform changes; initially it was all white including panty hose, definitely no pants and one must wear their cap.

Over the years I watched the changes and adapted. Hair was longer but still required pulling back, uniforms were colorful, as were shoes, caps were discarded. Ironically when I was ready to retire, the colors had gone from one spectrum on the color circle to the opposite, black was becoming the choice. I remember wishing for black or navy blue when I started out. It was a more realistic choice over white. I envied the nurses in England and other foreign countries who did indeed wear those colors and an apron or bib to cover and protect. I didn't envy the concept of being called 'Sister'. Things changed, and life goes on.

I got to the school and after dropping off my bag, starting the photo copies and locking the class room door I scooted down the street for a fresh bagel and cream cheese. I did so love that combination and could probably eat them daily. It was a wise decision to limit myself to once or twice a month.

Part of the old school nursing was the limited coffee and meal breaks, so one learned to eat fast. Even as I tried to slow down, I still devoured it in fifteen minutes.

When I returned, even though it was before 0800 about 2/3 of the class were there so I let them in and after putting their things on the desks they went ahead and started the coffee and hot water. The room filled with quiet chatter.