Chapter: Little Routines, Big Days

The soft buzz of the alarm clock echoed through the shared room just as the first rays of morning light crept through the thin curtains. Lara stirred under her blanket, the familiar rustling of bedsheets around her , reminding her she wasn’t the only one waking up to another long day.

She sat up, stretched, and grabbed her towel.

Another day, another chance to learn something new, she thought.

One after another, the girls queued for the tiny bathroom at the end of their dorm corridor. The sound of running water, hairdryers buzzing, and someone humming a morning song filled the air. Lara took a quick, refreshing bath, her mind already drifting to the busy ward and tasks ahead.

Back in the room, Zara was ironing her uniform, while Elina was frantically looking for her ID badge.

Elina: “Lara! Did you see my badge? I swear I left it near your table last night.”

Lara: (laughing) “Check under Mira’s pillow, maybe it took a walk in the night!”

Once dressed, hair tied, and notebooks packed, Lara grabbed a piece of toast that Mira had kindly shared and rushed out with the others. The hospital was just a few minutes away, but those short walks were often filled with random laughter and last-minute case study discussions.

After their duties, back in the dorm during the evening, the energy shifted.

Everyone had a ritual.

Lara would take another quick bath — it was her way of washing off the stress of the day — then wrap herself in her soft night shawl, sit at the edge of her bed, and flip open her worn-out journal. Sometimes she scribbled about what she learned. Sometimes about what she felt. And sometimes, she just doodled the ECG waves she was still trying to memorize.

Neema and Joyce would be busy with their assignments, typing fiercely, while Zara would be flipping through her pharmacology notes with dramatic sighs.

Zara: “Why does every drug sound like a spell from Harry Potter?”

Priya: “Because they are potions — only deadlier!”

Lara chuckled quietly and returned to her notes. Tonight’s topic: understanding medication charts and matching vitals to symptoms. She loved the way things connected — like puzzles waiting to be solved.

Later, they all took turns in the kitchen corner, making maggi, coffee, or heating up food they bought.

✨️New Faces, New Lessons✨️

The next morning brought a soft drizzle. The kind that made Lara want to curl back under her blanket. But the hospital called, and today, she was assigned to a new unit — a general medicine ward bustling with activity.

As she entered, a group of final-year students and interns were already huddled near the nurse’s station, reviewing charts. Lara felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. She adjusted her apron and stepped in quietly.

One of the busy technicians nodded at her.

Technician: “You’re the second-year from City Nursing College, right? Good. Come observe the medication preparation.”

Lara followed him, watching carefully as he explained the IV setup and medication timing. She scribbled notes in her small pocket diary, every word feeling like gold.

Later that day, she helped check vitals under the supervision of a resident doctor, who asked her, “What’s the first thing you look for in a patient with breathlessness?”

Lara thought for a second and answered . The doctor gave her a small nod of approval.

By evening, her mind was buzzing with new information and a quiet pride.

Back at the PG, the girls had already started changing into comfy clothes. Mira was making coffee; Elina had crashed on the bed with her face buried in a pillow.

Joyce: “Lara! You missed Mira’s drama with the ECG machine today.”

Neema: (grinning) “Don’t worry. We saved the best roast session for you.”

Lara dropped her bag, laughing, and joined them in the cozy mess of tangled stories, tea mugs, and unmatched socks.

That night, while writing in her journal, she paused.

Each day in this journey brings something new — new wards, new people, new fears… but also new courage.

She closed her book, smiled at the ceiling fan, and whispered to herself, “Let’s do it again tomorrow.”

Before sleep, they’d share funny patient stories (without names), or mimic how the PGs walked around like mini-celebrities. But beneath all the teasing and chaos was a silent truth — each one of them was growing, slowly but surely.

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