And then there was the client...

who refused to shake my hand because of "allergies"...

I wonder if he got the memo that massage involves my touching his skin (almost) everywhere, including his hands, with MY hands.

People are weird.

Quote of the day

"I put tape over my webcam because I don't want the NSA watching me get dressed."

I guess I'm better with kids than I thought.

I took care of a 3-year-old this past week. He was in for asthma exacerbation (caused by an upper respiratory infection, so of COURSE he sneezed right in my face, *sigh*).
He was feeling quite a bit better by the time I was assigned to him, so he was bouncing off the walls. His mom had a tough time keeping him under control, but I had a blast playing with him. Listening to his lungs was a different story, and I ended up resorting to bargaining with him so that I could do my assessment.

That's why on somebody's iPhone, there's a picture of me auscultating a stuffed bunny's lungs. Scary thing is, I actually HEARD something...most likely my own heartbeat through the bunny's meager chest.

Hey, whatever it takes to get the job done!

PSA

If you should find yourself in a university cafeteria around lunchtime, do yourself a favor and DON'T EAT THE LAMB VINDALOO, should it be on the menu.

You will thank me for this.

RIP, Barkley.

Loyal, steadfast, true
Furry friend, heart full of love
Rest in peace, Dear One.

Lucky baby!

Three of us would-be nurses shared a patient at clinical yesterday, and he was SO SWEET.

A two-month-old boy with RSV and pneumonia, his folks had other children plus transportation issues, so they had to leave the hospital several times during the day. Luckily, the nurse had PLENTY of help with the baby. ;)

My classmates and I took turns in the rocking chair, cuddling and bottle-feeding the sweet boy. To keep him calm and/or sleeping, and to help me stay awake, of COURSE I sang to him. Turns out I wasn't the only one!

I bet he's the only baby in the world to have German Minnelieder and folk songs, French pavanes, American movie musicals, Beethoven, and Tibetan lullabies sung to him all on the same day. Or maybe not. But either way, he's one lucky baby!

Note to self:

If you go and pick up a bunch of condoms from student health (for a safe sex presentation later in the week, I hasten to add!), and stick them in your backpack, it's probably a good idea to REMEMBER YOU PUT THEM THERE, and to REMOVE THEM BEFORE YOUR PEDIATRICS CLINICAL.

Otherwise your classmates might get a very different view of you. You know, when you pull out your stethoscope and a whole handful of condoms comes flying out everywhere.

:facepalm:

Seen outside a local business:

an electronic sign reading:

HURRY UP, SPRING!!!!!

Amen.

After...

viewing the interior of her suitcase after I finished helping her pack for her semester abroad in Australia, Chaos (my youngest-by-21-endless-agonizing-minutes) said:

"It's like a TARDIS. You pack like a BOSS!"

Indeed, as I do many things. ;)

Pediatrics...

not my cup of tea AT ALL.

I'm pretty sure I've blogged about something like this before...

but it bears repeating:

If you have your own first name as a tramp stamp, you're weird.

I say that as a weird person, but there's weird and then there's WEIRD.

The little daisies tattooed around the name were the added weirdo touch.

Apparently...

my professor attended the Wilford Brimley School for Pronunciation.

"DIABEETUS!!!!"

I'm having a hard time not laughing.

You know you probably didn't put enough effort into your assignment...

when your instructor calls it "...worse than crap."

*sigh*

Time for a do-over.

Dork

I'm a dork. Long ago I made peace with this. I'm more than okay with it, I EMBRACE it.

Yes, I'm the person who gets super excited about seeing ladybugs or baby bunnies. I can go on and on and on about my favorite book or song or movie or graphic novel or person. I get so enthusiastic about learning new things that I automatically assume everyone else MUST be just as excited about X as I am, or want to know the entire history of Y, just like I do.

I'll never be the "cool chick" at the party. Instead, I'm the goofy one who's laughing hysterically with her friends about a lame "that's what SHE said" joke.

All that being said, I still feel hurt when I think somebody is laughing at me. Normally I can shrug it off with a "whatever", since I tell myself they just don't get my awesomeness. But when three or four people burst out laughing after I leave the room, but just before the door closes, I do stop to think, "Okay, what was it I said or did that tipped the balance for them, that made them laugh AT me, not with me?"

Luckily, this doesn't happen often anymore. And even more luckily, I'm old enough now that if it does bother me, it's only briefly.

Because I AM awesome. And there are plenty of equally awesome people out there that see that, and get me. Those other people's opinions about me just don't matter.

Overheard in the Dining Room

Mrs. SciFi and I are taking turns listening to everyone's lungs, since we're all battling various and sundry respiratory infections.

Mrs. SciFi (to SciFi, her dearly beloved spouse): Do you want me to listen to you?

SciFi: Why start now?

There might have been some beating with the stethoscope, but I saw NOTHING.

OK!

Calling various in-network behavioral health providers looking for some very specific testing, only to have a receptionist say, "We only treat sex offenders here."

Ok, thanks! Moving right along...

I fantasize about this a lot.

I daydreamed during my incredibly boring Community Health Nursing orientation session.
I was thisclose to snapping because a woman with a PhD kept saying "diagnosises" (much like my Adult Health professor two semesters ago).

I wanted to jump to my feet, screaming, "ONE 'DIAGNOSIS', TWO OR MORE 'DIAGNOSES'! GET IT THE FUCK RIGHT, GODDAMMIT!" Then storm out of the room, shouting "I'm done here!" and slam the door on my way out.

Since I intend and fervently wish to graduate in December, my fantasies will have to remain safely in my head. And on this blog.

I'm BAAAAAAAACK!

And jet lag is kicking my ass.

Here's a picture from the top of Table Mountain. Enjoy.

I can't even really put into words what my trip was like, not as well as I'd like to, anyway.

I met amazing people, I saw very disturbing things, and experienced very uplifting things. I ate all kinds of different animals, and I saw baboons, ostriches, and penguins in the wild (among other animals). I found out the Cape of Good Hope is NOT the southern-most point of the African continent, i.e. NOT where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet (who knew?). That would be Cape Agulhas.

I saw opulence and extreme poverty (on one occasion on the very same day. It was jarring.)

And I was extremely impressed by the spirit of the South African people. They were welcoming, friendly, open, and in most cases, pretty optimistic about the future. Except about the upcoming elections. The consensus is that their current president is an ass, and he's likely going to get 5 more years at the helm.

I'm really glad to be home, but I hope to go back to South Africa again, perhaps to work or study, we'll see.

More pics and posts to come.

Just a quickie...

before I leave tomorrow!

Headed to Cape Town and environs, and I'll be sure to take plenty of pictures which I'll share once I get back. I won't blog while I'm there, since I don't want to log in with my "regular" identity from an internet cafe. I'm not that trusting. Plus, I'm really not going to have much time at all.

Take care of yourselves, people! I'll see you on the other side.

My colleague Michelle is a redhead...

and when we went to the lobby of the spa to collect our clients (two best friends) for their couple's massage, Michelle's client's face lit up and she approached with her arms outstretched, shrieking,

"YAY, I GET THE GINGER!!!!!"

Some days my job is a hoot.