It's been a couple of busy weeks with another big exam and clinical competencies to get through. Exams don't bother me too much, by now I know what to do to be successful. I am, however, surprised by my performance during competencies; the tests for our hands-on care skills. These are more like oral exams with the student demonstrating whatever skill is being tested. I didn't expect to stumble on these, but I did - and I have a new-found and healthy respect for them. Because I'm unfamiliar with this testing method, I went into competencies without any anxiety at all, figuring I knew the material and had practiced to the degree I thought necessary to pass.
What I didn't take into account was the things that can go wrong that would cause my anxiety to increase, and my performance to decrease.
Things like the differences between older BP cuffs and my new one and how the valves will vary in terms of sensitivity. Or how taking pulses on different clinical partners can make a real difference when testing. I started on a gal whose pulse was a little tough to find and keep for a full 60 seconds. Missing a beat or two means a fail. Luckily I identified another student whose pulse was slow and strong, steady as a drum. Ultimately I passed all of my competencies, however I see now that it will be important not just to practice, but to almost over-practice. Get the muscle-memory established so when unexpected things arise...I won't be fumbling with the basics.
I do like clinical days the best. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays we have clinicals, meaning we aren't sitting in lecture, but are in the Sim Lab learning hands on care, or we are out at a clinical site actually practicing what we have learned in lecture and lab. Mind you, I don't enjoy the ridiculous uniforms we wear. The whites – also called the Polyester Disaster. Still, these days are like field trips from school and a welcome break from our 5-hr long lectures.
Last week we went out to a daycare center to practice assessments on different age-groups. The children were delightful however, it was like taking a bath in a petri-dish full of germs. I think half of the nursing class came down with a cold and cough the following week. Myself included. It could be that visit or the extreme drop in temperature we have had that did us in. It went from 70's and flip flops to 40's and shearling boots seemingly overnight. I need to to a major re-org of the wardrobe.
October is here and I have this overwhelming urge to stay in my flannel jammies and make soup. I'm delighted to report I found a new (to me) grocery store that has special sections just for various world foods; kosher, British, Indian, Mediterranean. I took home a scone mix from the British section, since scones and tea are a comfort ritual for me. And from the kosher foods I found a huge selection of frozen soups. I can't wait to try the borscht (I realize that's Russian) with a huge dollop of sour cream and watch the rain falling outside my window.
Life is settling into a pattern here which is helping with the loneliness and homesickness a great deal. Friday nights are spent at the local pub. Sundays are spent just down the street at a great 60's-era diner. They don't mind my camping out there for 5 hours studying, and the old broads who wait on me all call me hon, or sweetie. The last couple of Sunday evenings have been spent at a friend's house who also relocated here from Tacoma around the same time. We cook dinner and visit, and then I get a long soak in her magnificent claw-foot tub! Bliss!
I've grown accustomed to dorm living now, and really don't mind it. It's like the Hogwart's of nursing schools, with it's own traditions and legacy. I'm willing to bet this school could be the last in-residence, hospital-run diploma program in the nation. This makes me sad, because it's truly a unique experience living and learning this way. I love that I can finish an assignment at any hour and toddle downstairs to push it under my instructor's office door. I can roll out of bed and be in class in 10 minutes and not give a damn what the weather is doing outside. If it's cold out we can take the tunnel into the hospital. The lab is left open at designated times for extra practice and it's just down the hall. I love looking at the old photos of the first classes of nursing students in the late 1800's who also studied medicine right here. I feel connected to them.
And I've finally met "Flo!" When I arrived there were little post-it notes around, or messages on the white boards, ostensibly from this Flo person. Things like: "Flo says wash your dishes," in the kitchen. Or, "Flo says Welcome Back students!" I just assumed "Flo" was a fastidious and involved person. Turns out she's a mannequin down on second floor, dressed in one of those 1890 nurse uniforms, named after (of course), Florence Nightingale. Apparently, residents like to kidnap her and put her in unexpected places, like the elevator or in front of someone's door in order to give them a fright. I have no doubt she'll be very active as Halloween approaches.
I'm dreading these last 4 weeks. The exam schedule is getting more rigorous. I have one every Friday until end of term. The material on them is data-heavy and will involve a lot of memorizing. Who doesn't hate memorizing? What I can look forward to is finishing that final exam and then hopping on a plane for 9 days at home with family and friends.
I CAN'T WAIT!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Week Four - A Week of Firsts
Got my first parking ticket here and I feel justified in fighting it based on what the sign said when I parked...but I know I won't. Twenty bucks just ain't worth the hassle of going to parking court. I bet the city knows that and banks on it. Grrr.
Today was the first day I walked outside and started shivering like it must be fall. Could it be?!!! I don't dare to hope. I've been looking forward to cold weather since I hear it means that "Cockroach Season" is officially over.
But the most important first was meeting my Very First Patient!
Yes it was our first clinical week in the hospital, and I will admit I was nervous. This surprises me since not much does. We awoke in the wee hours in the morning and made our way as a class to the hospital cafeteria to breakfast and have a meeting with our clinical instructor. This is the teacher who leads a small group of students throughout the quarter through the clinical (hospital and hands on care) experience. Of all the professors here -- and I really like them all -- I feel lucky to have gotten who I did. She's the best!
So we arrived on our floor in our small group and were oriented. Given a tour. The codes to all the locked rooms. Passwords to the computer system. (Basically the keys to the kingdom.) Then we were assigned our patient and I got a little bubble of nerves when I passed her room for the first time knowing I would shortly have to knock on her door like I belonged there and begin forming the Therapeutic Relationship. I'm amused at how skittish I was to do this -- actually making several "fly-bys" past her door, unable to make myself knock until I finally gathered up the gumption to just do it.
I was only there to complete a partial healthcare assessment on her, so I didn't have to make any physical contact or practice my limited "skills" on her just yet. Once I did go in, thankfully things flowed naturally through the questionnaire. She was kind, warm and amiable. I wonder what she thought of me? I know what I would have thought sitting in that bed:
"She looks like a doctor" -- in my lab coat I felt like a fraud. I really only know basic hand washing, vital signs and how to put someone in restraints...yet here I was like someone from Grey's Anatomy.
"A student?! --Oh brother, just let me sleep." -- the woman had just had surgery the day before and now she was having to sit there and answer questions like: what do you like best about yourself? PUH-LEEZE.
Still -- even if she thought those things, she hid it well. I have to say I feel blessed I didn't get an unhappy and uncooperative patient for my first time at bat. I thoroughly enjoyed my day on the floor, even though I was worried about getting in the way of the hospital staff -- the nurses and doctors who "belonged there." When I brought that up I loved my teacher's response. She said it was her belief that the nursing students had every right to be in that patient's room as the staff did. Makes sense, since that's how new nurses are made, and every professional there started at the bottom like I did yesterday.
It's fun and daunting starting something new. I like it.
Today was the first day I walked outside and started shivering like it must be fall. Could it be?!!! I don't dare to hope. I've been looking forward to cold weather since I hear it means that "Cockroach Season" is officially over.
But the most important first was meeting my Very First Patient!
Yes it was our first clinical week in the hospital, and I will admit I was nervous. This surprises me since not much does. We awoke in the wee hours in the morning and made our way as a class to the hospital cafeteria to breakfast and have a meeting with our clinical instructor. This is the teacher who leads a small group of students throughout the quarter through the clinical (hospital and hands on care) experience. Of all the professors here -- and I really like them all -- I feel lucky to have gotten who I did. She's the best!
So we arrived on our floor in our small group and were oriented. Given a tour. The codes to all the locked rooms. Passwords to the computer system. (Basically the keys to the kingdom.) Then we were assigned our patient and I got a little bubble of nerves when I passed her room for the first time knowing I would shortly have to knock on her door like I belonged there and begin forming the Therapeutic Relationship. I'm amused at how skittish I was to do this -- actually making several "fly-bys" past her door, unable to make myself knock until I finally gathered up the gumption to just do it.
I was only there to complete a partial healthcare assessment on her, so I didn't have to make any physical contact or practice my limited "skills" on her just yet. Once I did go in, thankfully things flowed naturally through the questionnaire. She was kind, warm and amiable. I wonder what she thought of me? I know what I would have thought sitting in that bed:
"She looks like a doctor" -- in my lab coat I felt like a fraud. I really only know basic hand washing, vital signs and how to put someone in restraints...yet here I was like someone from Grey's Anatomy.
"A student?! --Oh brother, just let me sleep." -- the woman had just had surgery the day before and now she was having to sit there and answer questions like: what do you like best about yourself? PUH-LEEZE.
Still -- even if she thought those things, she hid it well. I have to say I feel blessed I didn't get an unhappy and uncooperative patient for my first time at bat. I thoroughly enjoyed my day on the floor, even though I was worried about getting in the way of the hospital staff -- the nurses and doctors who "belonged there." When I brought that up I loved my teacher's response. She said it was her belief that the nursing students had every right to be in that patient's room as the staff did. Makes sense, since that's how new nurses are made, and every professional there started at the bottom like I did yesterday.
It's fun and daunting starting something new. I like it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Week 3 - The Ups...The Downs
Every other Friday is test day here in nursing school, so of course I started out the week full of the promise of a regimented and rigorous daily study schedule. I always start test weeks out that way. Then I chuck that plan and wing it. Of course I would never advise anyone else to do that. Stick To Your Plan. But me? I guess I don't like boundaries...even self-imposed ones.
This week, however, I was sidelined a little bit because of the dreaded insomnia thing. It hit hard Tuesday night and I actually hit a record of No Sleep Whatsoever that night. That put me into a fog and made studying terribly difficult. Luckily the test went well, I think. Will get grades back soon and then we'll know for sure. I'm taking steps to figure out the sleeplessness in the meantime.
Everyone keeps asking about the dorms. Last week I described the periods of wildness from the denizens here, and it can be wild. Though my room is now a cute little haven, one can't ignore the sounds from the hall unless one wants the fan to be set on "jet engine" in order to drown it out. However, I'm adjusting...and the price is right! :)
Plus I've confirmed something I've always thought about me; I love living in small spaces. LOVE it. I have been mocked for setting my sites on one day living in an Airstream trailer. Some may consider my 600 square foot cabin small...but I have always thought I'd like to try even smaller. Even just temporarily—a trailer...a boat. And now I am putting it to the test in this 9' x 11' dorm room.
Why? I love the simplicity of it. Perhaps I'm still traumatized by the weeks of sifting through all of my personal belongings down at the beach in order to prep my cabin for the renters and get my things into storage. There were hundreds of items I had forgotten I had, or hadn't touched in many years. Now I have all that I need, organized into this little space. And there is little room for clutter, so I can keep it pruned back. I have always said all I need is a comfy place to sleep, a relaxing place to sit, and some place to cook. I have that here and its really all I want. And my rule when moving in was, nothing comes in unless it is beautiful AND functional. (Preferably multi-functional.) What a good rule. I have one bowl for my oatmeal, a pretty one from Anthropologie. One mug for my tea -- the same one I've used at home for years. One travel mug. One place setting of cutlery. It is really quite freeing.
Down with clutter and excessive, useless STUFF!
The other thing I have learned from this move is this: As much as I have had a wanderlust over the last decade, now I know that the beach will always be home base. I don't think I could go for good. I will take time outs to have adventures, but I will need to return to the place (and the people) that feed my soul. I guess I had to leave to know that.
This is the quote I have posted on my FB page. It fits.
"I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage, with my books, my family, and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give." - Thomas Jefferson
This week, however, I was sidelined a little bit because of the dreaded insomnia thing. It hit hard Tuesday night and I actually hit a record of No Sleep Whatsoever that night. That put me into a fog and made studying terribly difficult. Luckily the test went well, I think. Will get grades back soon and then we'll know for sure. I'm taking steps to figure out the sleeplessness in the meantime.
Everyone keeps asking about the dorms. Last week I described the periods of wildness from the denizens here, and it can be wild. Though my room is now a cute little haven, one can't ignore the sounds from the hall unless one wants the fan to be set on "jet engine" in order to drown it out. However, I'm adjusting...and the price is right! :)
Plus I've confirmed something I've always thought about me; I love living in small spaces. LOVE it. I have been mocked for setting my sites on one day living in an Airstream trailer. Some may consider my 600 square foot cabin small...but I have always thought I'd like to try even smaller. Even just temporarily—a trailer...a boat. And now I am putting it to the test in this 9' x 11' dorm room.
Why? I love the simplicity of it. Perhaps I'm still traumatized by the weeks of sifting through all of my personal belongings down at the beach in order to prep my cabin for the renters and get my things into storage. There were hundreds of items I had forgotten I had, or hadn't touched in many years. Now I have all that I need, organized into this little space. And there is little room for clutter, so I can keep it pruned back. I have always said all I need is a comfy place to sleep, a relaxing place to sit, and some place to cook. I have that here and its really all I want. And my rule when moving in was, nothing comes in unless it is beautiful AND functional. (Preferably multi-functional.) What a good rule. I have one bowl for my oatmeal, a pretty one from Anthropologie. One mug for my tea -- the same one I've used at home for years. One travel mug. One place setting of cutlery. It is really quite freeing.
Down with clutter and excessive, useless STUFF!
The other thing I have learned from this move is this: As much as I have had a wanderlust over the last decade, now I know that the beach will always be home base. I don't think I could go for good. I will take time outs to have adventures, but I will need to return to the place (and the people) that feed my soul. I guess I had to leave to know that.
This is the quote I have posted on my FB page. It fits.
"I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage, with my books, my family, and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give." - Thomas Jefferson
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Week 2 Nursing School -- Where the Wild Things Are
After a relatively easy first week of lectures and films studying the various laws, governing bodies, professional standards, health & safety requirements for the nursing field, we begin week 2. I will admit, the amount of outside-class work -- they weren't kidding, it is staggering. It is also a logistical problem if you'd like to decamp the dorm room and go hole up anywhere else to get some work done. This is because the textbooks require a dolly. Entire forests were mown down in order to provide them. And since I dropped a cool grand on these babies, I'm damned sure gonna read them.
Now that I'm comfortably nested in said dorm room, I find I'm not the only one. Those following me on FaceBook this week know I have encountered several bigger-than-a-breadbox cockroaches in my room. Nothing like a major freak out in the hallway to bring us nursing students together. The friendly and responsive Environmental Services guy from the hospital informs me that my pets are American Cockroaches. (Nice that they're domestic. The other ones are...German. Nuff said.) Anyhoo, we grow things bigger in the USA...my insect tormentors are upwards of 2 inches long, and not smart enough to get out of the way of a 4-inch stiletto.
Needless to say...despite my new memory foam mattress, I'm still not sleeping.
And speaking of wild things, we've got the 2-legged variety here in the dorms as well. I have dubbed them the Gaggles of Giggling Girls collective. They jump around being silly due to various stimuli: the onset of Jersey Shore on tv, a sighting of a cute medical resident, and various other indiscernible reasons. I see myself as an obvious outsider, however I am welcomed into the fold as a visitor -- a la Gorillas in the Mist. I'm resisting any true bonding thus far, since I'm not sure my self-esteem can handle being dubbed Dorm Mom. Still, my favorite moment with the kids so far was when I disclosed to one of my classmates in the hall that I had a date that night, while a gaggle was walking by and overheard. Much squealing and hopping around ensued, followed by pleas that I let them help me "get ready." It was quite endearing actually.
It seems my design skills won't need to be entirely forgotten. We are tasked with building a Professional Portfolio in a binder over the next two years, compiling our experiences and credentials that will, one hopes, help us find that crucial first nursing job. Looking at the professor's example had me cringing inwardly. While I'm sure her credentials are lengthy and impressive -- the book itself looks like it could be at home in any high school locker. And since my former job had me overseeing multi-million dollar proposal packages, I say pish tush to this softball assignment.
What I'm really scared of is giving an enema to an incontinent and combative alzheimer's patient.
The book I can handle.
Now that I'm comfortably nested in said dorm room, I find I'm not the only one. Those following me on FaceBook this week know I have encountered several bigger-than-a-breadbox cockroaches in my room. Nothing like a major freak out in the hallway to bring us nursing students together. The friendly and responsive Environmental Services guy from the hospital informs me that my pets are American Cockroaches. (Nice that they're domestic. The other ones are...German. Nuff said.) Anyhoo, we grow things bigger in the USA...my insect tormentors are upwards of 2 inches long, and not smart enough to get out of the way of a 4-inch stiletto.
Needless to say...despite my new memory foam mattress, I'm still not sleeping.
And speaking of wild things, we've got the 2-legged variety here in the dorms as well. I have dubbed them the Gaggles of Giggling Girls collective. They jump around being silly due to various stimuli: the onset of Jersey Shore on tv, a sighting of a cute medical resident, and various other indiscernible reasons. I see myself as an obvious outsider, however I am welcomed into the fold as a visitor -- a la Gorillas in the Mist. I'm resisting any true bonding thus far, since I'm not sure my self-esteem can handle being dubbed Dorm Mom. Still, my favorite moment with the kids so far was when I disclosed to one of my classmates in the hall that I had a date that night, while a gaggle was walking by and overheard. Much squealing and hopping around ensued, followed by pleas that I let them help me "get ready." It was quite endearing actually.
It seems my design skills won't need to be entirely forgotten. We are tasked with building a Professional Portfolio in a binder over the next two years, compiling our experiences and credentials that will, one hopes, help us find that crucial first nursing job. Looking at the professor's example had me cringing inwardly. While I'm sure her credentials are lengthy and impressive -- the book itself looks like it could be at home in any high school locker. And since my former job had me overseeing multi-million dollar proposal packages, I say pish tush to this softball assignment.
What I'm really scared of is giving an enema to an incontinent and combative alzheimer's patient.
The book I can handle.
Monday, August 15, 2011
First Week in the Burgh
Hey folks!
I'm finally catching up on the blog. I've had a lot to say, and many nudges from friends and family to update, however my first gripe is the heavily filtered WiFi in my building owing to the fact that I live in a hospital, and they take patient records pretty seriously. So I'm reporting from Alexander's, only a couple blocks away, and purportedly one of the area's finest Italian restaurants. You'll be hearing a lot about how I'm eating my way through Little Italy for a while since it's right out my door. After the drive across the fruited plain, where there was a distinct lack of variety on the menu, I'm happy to be back among culinarily diverse options.
Okay where should I start? How about the drive?
After surgery #2 and an unexpected overnight stay in the hospital for mega-doses of great pain control drugs I landed back on the couch to recover for a couple of days. Luckily the move off the beach was behind me. Ordinarily I surely would have had a terrible time leaving the cabin, knowing I wouldn't see the beach (or my tub) for 22 months. However, pain and exhaustion kept me from really even acknowledging that farewell. On day 2 of my recovery I thought about it and realized if my Plan C (...or was it, D?) was going to work at all, I'd have to pour myself in the car and drive away, in 24 hours. So I did. (Although my dear friend and host was skeptical it could be done, and...full disclosure...so was I.)
My son (and co-pilot) and I spent the following nights in Butte, MT; Wall SD; and finally Madison, WI -- driving later and later into the night to keep on schedule. Encountering the world-renowned motorcycle rally at Sturgis was a logistical nightmare in terms of finding lodging, but we did it. I'll admit I find it a guilty pleasure checking out men on bikes. And there were zillions. It was like a candy shop. ;)
The road trip went by amazingly fast because we listened to 3.25 books on tape of the Harry Potter series and were drawn in. Now we have the remaining books to listen to on the way back in 22 months.
Pittsburgh. PGH. The Burgh. Welcome to the Big City.
After a couple of wrong turns, we arrived in Pitt at 2:30 a.m. on Thursday. Our welcoming party was Chubby Nudie. He was a hairy, bald obese man in his underwear going to his car to retrieve something on Liberty Avenue. We saw WAY too much of his south end. Because we were punchy...this sent us into hysterics.
Then when we pulled up to my building, we heard a loud crash and a drunk girl on her bicycle had fallen in the middle of the street. Giggling. David and I shared a glance and tried hard not to crack each other up. She was fine. Drunk people bounce. And her chain was off so she had to walk the rest of the way. Lord knows we weren't going to aid and abet by helping her reconnect it and there was NO WAY she had the dexterity to do it. She ambled away. So that's Drunk Cyclist Chick.
[Commercial break: the cheese and wild mushroom ravioli in marsala sauce just arrived and I am over the moon! And since on Monday and Wednesdays it's 1/2 price wine here at Alexander's...it's my new favorite place. I sought it out on the advice of a good friend who said I needed to establish routines...I pick this one.]
I checked into my room on the nurse's floor and my boy stayed on the med-student's floor, which is all guys. And now I will commence my list of gripes, just to get that out of the way:
There are plenty of those. I love old buildings and this town has plenty. Mine was built in 1892. I love exploring new neighborhoods and new churches. Plenty of that to come. I am sure I'll meet people, and that will be fun. The Italians love me already. I shower them (and their food) with praise. People here have been Over the Top Nice. I have always found Seattle fairly standoffish. Especially since I moved there from Abilene, TX -- where you are instantly part of anyone's family. Here in The Burgh I have met the kindest, most helpful people so far.
That is, until they get into their cars. Then they are evil.
Well folks, I hate to ignore my friendly server. It's time for that next glass of wine before I go back to my dorm...and the kids. And the boxes I have yet to unpack. Of course, after the next glass, I may just go to bed. In any case, I had better down it so I don't have to walk home in the dark and get mugged.
Tomorrow is the first day of Orientation. In 21 months and 29 days, I'll be a nurse!
Love and miss you all!
I'm finally catching up on the blog. I've had a lot to say, and many nudges from friends and family to update, however my first gripe is the heavily filtered WiFi in my building owing to the fact that I live in a hospital, and they take patient records pretty seriously. So I'm reporting from Alexander's, only a couple blocks away, and purportedly one of the area's finest Italian restaurants. You'll be hearing a lot about how I'm eating my way through Little Italy for a while since it's right out my door. After the drive across the fruited plain, where there was a distinct lack of variety on the menu, I'm happy to be back among culinarily diverse options.
Okay where should I start? How about the drive?
After surgery #2 and an unexpected overnight stay in the hospital for mega-doses of great pain control drugs I landed back on the couch to recover for a couple of days. Luckily the move off the beach was behind me. Ordinarily I surely would have had a terrible time leaving the cabin, knowing I wouldn't see the beach (or my tub) for 22 months. However, pain and exhaustion kept me from really even acknowledging that farewell. On day 2 of my recovery I thought about it and realized if my Plan C (...or was it, D?) was going to work at all, I'd have to pour myself in the car and drive away, in 24 hours. So I did. (Although my dear friend and host was skeptical it could be done, and...full disclosure...so was I.)
My son (and co-pilot) and I spent the following nights in Butte, MT; Wall SD; and finally Madison, WI -- driving later and later into the night to keep on schedule. Encountering the world-renowned motorcycle rally at Sturgis was a logistical nightmare in terms of finding lodging, but we did it. I'll admit I find it a guilty pleasure checking out men on bikes. And there were zillions. It was like a candy shop. ;)
The road trip went by amazingly fast because we listened to 3.25 books on tape of the Harry Potter series and were drawn in. Now we have the remaining books to listen to on the way back in 22 months.
Pittsburgh. PGH. The Burgh. Welcome to the Big City.
After a couple of wrong turns, we arrived in Pitt at 2:30 a.m. on Thursday. Our welcoming party was Chubby Nudie. He was a hairy, bald obese man in his underwear going to his car to retrieve something on Liberty Avenue. We saw WAY too much of his south end. Because we were punchy...this sent us into hysterics.
Then when we pulled up to my building, we heard a loud crash and a drunk girl on her bicycle had fallen in the middle of the street. Giggling. David and I shared a glance and tried hard not to crack each other up. She was fine. Drunk people bounce. And her chain was off so she had to walk the rest of the way. Lord knows we weren't going to aid and abet by helping her reconnect it and there was NO WAY she had the dexterity to do it. She ambled away. So that's Drunk Cyclist Chick.
[Commercial break: the cheese and wild mushroom ravioli in marsala sauce just arrived and I am over the moon! And since on Monday and Wednesdays it's 1/2 price wine here at Alexander's...it's my new favorite place. I sought it out on the advice of a good friend who said I needed to establish routines...I pick this one.]
I checked into my room on the nurse's floor and my boy stayed on the med-student's floor, which is all guys. And now I will commence my list of gripes, just to get that out of the way:
- Living with A/C in a hot and humid place is new to me. I'm either way too hot, or freezing. I haven't found the right setting. And though it's hot enough out to frizz my hair and make me wonder why I showered, I still need to bring a sweater because as soon as I go indoors it is sure to be overly air-conditioned and I'll probably catch a cold.
- No tub. Those of you who know me and my 2 bath a day habit, know that this is a demoralizing thing for me. When will I ever get my reading done? What about my glass of white in the tub? Snoozing? Shaving my legs without balancing dangerously on one foot?!! How do you shower people do it?!! I hate this most of all. I may live in the tub on breaks. Some are suggesting I make friends with the people who live in the suites on my floor. These are seniors in the private apartments. With their private bathtubs, damn them. But I've never been a user, so that's out. (Except for Heather. She has always had a pretty good tub.)
- Did I mention the filtered WiFi?!! No iTunes. No Netflix. No blogging from bed, as per normal. Now the internet is only good for online shopping (thank God) and Facebooking. Which is why you'll see more FB updates from me. It's just easier. I am sadly watching Netflix on my phone! We'll see how this blogging thing goes when it's 3 feet of snow to get to Alexanders. I may need to spring for that thingy that gives me WiFi wherever I go. Just don't want to add a monthly bill if I can work around it.
- Everybody who lives on my floor looks...about 12. And since I feel about 172 around them...this is a big gap. I find myself rebelling by spending WAY too much on dorm room improvements in order to feel like an adult. It. Will. Be. My. Haven. But seriously...I need to stop soon. How many throw pillows does a girl need? Strangely, though I feel like a centenarian right now, apparently I don't look it. TWICE on this trip my 18 year old son and I were mistaken for a couple. I don't really need to add that this sent my son into apoplexy, and he demanded to know if he looked 30 for reals. (Keep in mind I'm 41.) I assured him he did not, and that it was all me. :) And speaking of feeling like an adult...how can I when:
- It's a dry dorm. Yes, unless I want to be a law breaker (this early) I cannot bring in any adult bevies. And even if I wanted to, you can't just go to Safeway and pick up a bottle or two while you replenish provisions. All alcohol is sold at liquor stores here. I feel like I'm back in Canada! Seriously...when I was in college in the 80's we had a DRIVE THROUGH liquor store. Now that was neat. So in order to stay on this side of the dorm law I would have to walk a few blocks to a fairly sketchy liquor store and then drink it in my car. (Which may put me on the wrong side of state law come to think of it.) It is no wonder that I have been craving a glass of wine like an addict wants a needle. Which is why I'm at Alexanders...boozy-blogging. If this goes badly I may need to update from Starbucks in future.
- Parking. It's a pain. But on the up-side I am an expert parallel parker. But feeding meters every 2 hours my first days here got old quickly. I'm now in the lot provided by the school. The several blocks walk seems fine. Now. Ask me again in the 3 feet of snow.
- Did I mention the heat? I think I did, but clearly I wasn't finished. I stood in line, (svhizing) for my Healthcare Worker's CPR class and asked the instructor if today was considered a pretty hot day on average as I madly fanned myself with my booklet. She looked nonplussed and said actually today was considered cool. Tomorrow's supposed to be a real scorcher and I'm left wondering how much less I can wear before breaking laws for both the school AND the state.
- I could throw a stone at The Hood. Really. My charming, albeit working-class, Italian district borders places where I really shouldn't wander. Yes mom, I unpacked the hot-pink mace. And I had to keep possession of my son's switch blade, since he flew home with carry on bags. Yes!! Very handy for opening boxes. Hope I don't need it for any other reason.
- City people watching. I'm really having fun with this. Heavier women in daisy-dukes and 4 inch heels. Swarms of people in every-color-scrubs around my hospital...some in (gasp) yucky Hello Kitty scrubs. (Why?!) And then there was The Miner. (This is an over-18 observation. Please skip down if you're easily offended.) So on David's last day here I took him to get some *surprise* Italian food. We were sharing some cheese and walnut ravioli in gorgonzola sauce with artichokes and groaning with delight when I observed what had to be a drug dealer guy on the corner. I mean, why else would he spend the whole hour on the corner?! (Says the girl from the burbs.) Then I was transfixed, in that way when you can't look away from an accident, as this guy "readjusted himself" for...uh...had to be 5 minutes. At least long enough for me to realize it wasn't going to end, so I could point it out to my son. Sure enough, David looked over. And stared aghast, as it went...well, on and on. Then I started exclaiming, as the represented female in the group, that a girl can overlook it if anatomy requires a little adjusting from time to time. She can glance away, knowing it would be over by the time she looked back. But this guy was conducting a Mining Operation! Hence...Miner Guy. Sorry. But we shared another laugh together. It was hot, and we were punchy again.
- Oh I have more gripes, but what will I write about next week? :)
There are plenty of those. I love old buildings and this town has plenty. Mine was built in 1892. I love exploring new neighborhoods and new churches. Plenty of that to come. I am sure I'll meet people, and that will be fun. The Italians love me already. I shower them (and their food) with praise. People here have been Over the Top Nice. I have always found Seattle fairly standoffish. Especially since I moved there from Abilene, TX -- where you are instantly part of anyone's family. Here in The Burgh I have met the kindest, most helpful people so far.
That is, until they get into their cars. Then they are evil.
Well folks, I hate to ignore my friendly server. It's time for that next glass of wine before I go back to my dorm...and the kids. And the boxes I have yet to unpack. Of course, after the next glass, I may just go to bed. In any case, I had better down it so I don't have to walk home in the dark and get mugged.
Tomorrow is the first day of Orientation. In 21 months and 29 days, I'll be a nurse!
Love and miss you all!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Update from the Couch
Satan's babies, the kidney stones on both sides of my body, made themselves known last week, and that is how I ended up here on my friend's couch, instead of on the beach, packing.
Yesterday I went in for surgery so I could rid myself of them once and for all before heading off to school. Though it was a surprise that I was going to need surgery in the last two weeks before my move, somehow the schedule would have worked out if everything had gone according to plan.
But it didn't.
In the middle of my operation, when my surgeon was going to blast one of the suckers with his laser beam -- the machine refused to operate! I was brought out of surgery, only half done with the procedure and told he'd have to go back in when a new machine was found.
Today I am recovering on the couch from surgery #1 and dreading #2, which will happen next Tuesday. Morale is low and my moving plans are shot all to hell considering the schedule didn't have much play in it. When I can concentrate further, I'll be working on Plan B for getting myself to Pittsburgh on time in order to become a nurse.
Life sure does take a turn sometimes. The bright side being, this is one more experience that will give me greater insight and compassion when I begin taking care of patients.
All I can say folks is...Drink Your Water!!
Yesterday I went in for surgery so I could rid myself of them once and for all before heading off to school. Though it was a surprise that I was going to need surgery in the last two weeks before my move, somehow the schedule would have worked out if everything had gone according to plan.
But it didn't.
In the middle of my operation, when my surgeon was going to blast one of the suckers with his laser beam -- the machine refused to operate! I was brought out of surgery, only half done with the procedure and told he'd have to go back in when a new machine was found.
Today I am recovering on the couch from surgery #1 and dreading #2, which will happen next Tuesday. Morale is low and my moving plans are shot all to hell considering the schedule didn't have much play in it. When I can concentrate further, I'll be working on Plan B for getting myself to Pittsburgh on time in order to become a nurse.
Life sure does take a turn sometimes. The bright side being, this is one more experience that will give me greater insight and compassion when I begin taking care of patients.
All I can say folks is...Drink Your Water!!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Last Call
Have started thinking about everything in terms of "lasts." Last 4th of July on the beach. Last time I might see that friend. Was that the last time I'm going to see my nieces and nephews? They had better not grow for the 22 months I'll be gone. Will this be the last time I get a My Pie at Katie Downs Pizza?
I'm having a strange sort of paralysis. I have less than four weeks to execute a to-do list that, when I look it over, makes me want to go back to bed. All I really want to do is wrap on a sarong, sit on my deck slathered in spf 42, and listen to the waves. I am trying to figure out how to bottle the scent of home: salty brine, cocoa butter tanning lotion, evergreens and wood smoke.
I have diagnosed myself with Premature Homesickness.
The calendar is certainly filling up. Lunches, coffees, dinners with friends. I feel like a rock band on a farewell tour! I'll have to squeeze in the packing and organizing in between these events. It doesn't help that I'm jetting off to the east coast on Monday. A quick trip to New York to see a friend, then down to Pittsburgh to attend a pre-registration thing. I'm pretty excited to get a preview of what will become my life for the next 2 years.
I dug my way through a pile of paperwork for the school yesterday. I am gratified to know how closely they look at anyone who wants to work in healthcare. Can't just swan in. They want to know if you are a felon. Or a druggie. Today I need to head to the police station to submit my prints for an FBI background check.
Great. Now I'll never be able to go on the lam!
Other than the necessary action items to make sure I actually qualify to do nursing school, I'm not really thinking much about my upcoming east coast life. I figure I'll have about 3000 miles to go over all of that in my trek across the fruited plain.
I'm going to soak up the sun and the fellowship with friends first.
I'm having a strange sort of paralysis. I have less than four weeks to execute a to-do list that, when I look it over, makes me want to go back to bed. All I really want to do is wrap on a sarong, sit on my deck slathered in spf 42, and listen to the waves. I am trying to figure out how to bottle the scent of home: salty brine, cocoa butter tanning lotion, evergreens and wood smoke.
I have diagnosed myself with Premature Homesickness.
The calendar is certainly filling up. Lunches, coffees, dinners with friends. I feel like a rock band on a farewell tour! I'll have to squeeze in the packing and organizing in between these events. It doesn't help that I'm jetting off to the east coast on Monday. A quick trip to New York to see a friend, then down to Pittsburgh to attend a pre-registration thing. I'm pretty excited to get a preview of what will become my life for the next 2 years.
I dug my way through a pile of paperwork for the school yesterday. I am gratified to know how closely they look at anyone who wants to work in healthcare. Can't just swan in. They want to know if you are a felon. Or a druggie. Today I need to head to the police station to submit my prints for an FBI background check.
Great. Now I'll never be able to go on the lam!
Other than the necessary action items to make sure I actually qualify to do nursing school, I'm not really thinking much about my upcoming east coast life. I figure I'll have about 3000 miles to go over all of that in my trek across the fruited plain.
I'm going to soak up the sun and the fellowship with friends first.
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