The Testing Center Equals Prison

Yesterday at 7:30 am, after a morning of massive and violent vomiting, I entered the Pearson Vue Testing Facility - sweaty arm-pitted, big-haired, and all - to take my NCBTMBIHAVENOIDEAWHATIMDOING test.  That's fancy talk for the test to become a licensed massage therapist.

The Lentil didn't like the the elevated blood pressure nor the increased adrenaline.  She started beating my uterus with a vengeance.  It was the first time I'd ever felt her and absolutely knew I wasn't making it up.  Strangely, it was kind of calming.

After I'd been double finger printed, double palm scanned, had my picture taken, been reminded four times that we would be audio and video recorded, turned my pockets out, done a self-pat down in front of the test proctor, and been stuck behind the one lady that insisted she be able to take her winter coat into the testing area (why do I always have to get behind the ones who make trouble??), I was allowed to start my test.

I swear to you, there's probably less evasive security in prison.

Anyway, I re-freaked out when the first 20 or so questions weren't even familiar to me.  Was I given the wrong 90-page study guide or what??

There were questions on stuff I'd never even seen before.  Like Dowager's humps.  There were three questions on that bloody thing.  I just checked and it's not even in my book.  Isn't there anyway they could have asked me about presbyopia?  Or Crohn's Disease?  Or ankylosing spondylitis?  Because I totally know what those things are.

And you know the kinesiology cards that I've been toting and studying everyday for the last six months?  The ones that were supposed to account for 26% of the test?  The ones that have caused several dreams wherein I had to name muscle insertions and actions before the timer runs out and they kill someone I love? Yeah, those cards.   There were two questions about those.  TWO.  One was on a muscle that I didn't even know existed.

I sat in that chair, staring at the computer screen, making uneducated guesses, resigning myself to the fact that I was going to have to cough up another $225 and make another trip to Houston to re-take this test.  And realizing that I was going to have to change the focus of my studying entirely.

I finished the test in a little under 50 minutes.  I didn't even bother to go back and check the answers because if I didn't know them the first time, there was no way I was going to know them the second time around.

I walked back out into the lobby, was double palm scanned again to make sure I was really me, retrieved my belongings (yes, they made me take the only thing I had with me beside my driver license - my chap stick - out of my pocket and place it in a locker), and waited for the result.  The test administrator handed me a one-page print-out.  I searched and searched, trying to find where on earth it said whether or not I'd passed or failed. 

Mostly I think I was blinded to the result because I was distracted by the extremely ugly picture of myself that was posted at the top of the page.

And then magically, there it was.  The blessed word. 

PASS.

How I passed, I have no idea.  You only get a printout on what you got wrong if you fail.  Maybe they gave me extra credit for being on time??  Or maybe The Lentil is functioning as an extra brain/lucky charm?

I let out a literal "woof" of relief, squatted down in front of the counter and started to cry.

The test administrator told me I would have to leave the office to show any emotion. 

Apparently there's no being happy/relieved at the Pearson Vue Testing Facility.

Husband helped me to celebrate by taking me for bacon wrapped shrimp at Pappasitos and then to Barnes and Noble where I spent entirely too much money buying every single book that's been on my "can't read for leisure until after I pass my massage test" list.

I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty proud of myself. 

I'm not at all missing the weight that's been taken off my shoulders.  In fact, I'm feeling right light and springy.

Now it's on to the jurisprudence test and applying for my state license. 

Then it's on to....well, I really have no idea what my next step will be, but for the time being, I'm just going to revel in my apparent and before-unrealized brilliance (AKA lucky guesses).

And I'm going to burn my stacks and stacks of colored index cards.