Dear . . .

. . . Winter – It’s about time you showed up. While I’m not entirely sure how to be appropriately grateful, I know the farmers are, so thank you.

. . . Semi with too many vehicles on it – Thank you for driving in front of me on the unplowed highway. You kinda were right on the yellow line, and I nearly got smashed by other semis a couple of times, but you made the drive much easier. I was only mad at you once: When you decided to go downtown and left me all alone to brave the curve into the non-downtown (uptown?).

. . . PM shift – Yesterday went really well. That was kind. We should try for those types of shifts more often.

. . .CNA’s – You all are fabulous. Thanks for working as well as you do.

. . . Night nurse – I’m so glad you showed up. Even more so that you live right in town.

. . . Snow Plowers – You’ve had a pretty light season so far. When you do go on the road, what do you do to keep occupied? Well, besides figuring out how to deal with us little annoying cars? Listen to music? Like . . . The whole St. Matthew’s Passion? (Wouldn’t that be nice.)

. . . Vancomycin – Why. Why, why, why. Why! Troughs and whatnot are really not all that fun, you know.

. . . Schnick – Ouch.

. . . Algebra – So. The grades this semester are nice. What was with the bad ones in high school, huh?

. . . Scrubs – It’s time to find material that doesn’t wrinkle so badly in the wash. That’s all.

. . . Computer battery – Do me a favor and give me a hint when you’re about to die. I thought 13% was when you’d alert me, but you don’t anymore. Was it something I said?

. . . BonLook – Some people might think they look weird, but I’m grateful for the glasses you sent me. And such a good price!

. . . Sappy movie moments- Stop making me cry. I’ve run out of kleenex. Besides the fact I don’t have much on my med and treatment carts.

. . . People – Thank you for making this profession so wonderful. Really.

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“Camp”ing

So, last week I was “Nurse”. Camp Nurse to be specific. That’s right. Not a week after boards, and I’m watching over a camp-full of people. Needless to say, nobody died, nobody broke any bones (as far as I know, at least), nobody keeled over with a seizure or from an honest heat stroke . .

It really was pretty basic. I dealt with a bit of homesickness, lots of sunburns, thousands (seriously, it may have been that – the mosquitoes were horrible this year!) of bug bites, girls convinced they were overheating, kids who ran into things, asthma, ADHD (unfortunately . . . ), allergies, upset stomachs, etcetera.

Then there were those weird cases: possible case of strep, swollen eye that didn’t respond to anything but time, a counselor who decided to rip up one of his finger tips (no, it was an accident), a ripped open blister, and I’m sure there were others.

Hint:

To anybody who might ever be a camp nurse, keep your cool. Most of the stuff I saw (in my mucho amount of experience in one year) was very basic. At first, treat those girls like they really are that hot. You’ll learn eventually which one understands how being really hot isn’t “overheating” or “heat stroke”. After awhile, you’ll know how to look at them and explain sympathetically that if you could put an air conditioner outside, you would.  Give the kiddos band aids when they want them (as long as you see blood, obviously), even if it’s just a little scratch (you’ll remember how many times you realized you had one of those by using hand sanitizer).

Also:

If you can help it, don’t stay in the infirmary. It’s hot outside, yes. It’s nice and cool in the infirmary, yes. But when something comes your way, you’ll hear countless explanations from countless campers and counselors as to what happened. Being there, you’re more likely to see what really happened.

I don’t pretend to know it all, obviously. I know only the tippest part of the tip of the iceberg. But even that’s a bit here. And I know there are other nursing students reading this. Take what you want, laugh at the other ridiculousness, and have fun camping. ;)

Other news around here: Because of the silly government shutdown, I technically don’t have my license yet. This makes things difficult for finding work as an LPN. However, I have an interview this week, and it sounds like the place is willing to work with my not having a license. But we’ll see how it goes.

Thanks for all of the congratulations and well wishes!

If Ever I Were to Get a . .

Tattoo. Yeah, no I’m not thinking about it. (Warped sentence warning) For some extremely obvious reasons I’ll never get one, but also for the reason that the idea of that much pain scares me will I never get one.

However, I managed to run across this just recently. While I think the size and pain a bit unnecessary (not to mention the loud publicity of such an action over a sickness), there’s no way anyone would ever miss it. And, for people in the medical field, it’s slightly handy to have such a loud reminder.

But, good grief. Turn down the volume a bit, OK? There are nice little bracelets that can be worn. * shudders *

But I was talking about my idea. If ever I were to get a tattoo, it would probably be “ABC” in very small font across my inner wrist. That or my palm. Since I know it’s absolutely impossible to have the inside of your eyelids tattooed, that location’s out of the question. If it was always on my wrist or palm, I’d never forget it.

Airway. Breathing. Circulation. The key to winning the lottery. No, not really. But if answering questions on an NCLEX correctly is your idea of winning the lottery, then yes. It’s the key.

Then again, maybe this idea is an idea of cheating.

Chalk that one up for another reason to never get a tattoo . . . not even this one.

 

 

Katt

Meet Freya.

FREYA – FRØYA (Norwegian form)
Gender: Feminine
Usage: Norse Mythology
Pronounced: FRAY-ah
From Old Norse Freyja meaning “lady”. This is the name of the goddess of love and beauty in Norse mythology. She claimed half of the heroes who were slain in battle and brought them to her realm in Asgard.

To be honest, I chose this name because it was listed as meaning “beautiful” or “lovely” on a separate site my father found, only to later find how really Norwegian it was (not to mention other meanings). But I’ve decided to stick with it.

Freya is around ten months old, and has been with us for a little over a day. She’s already known for her absolute cuteness, non-stop purring, itty meows . . and trixiness. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s into everything.

Time Gone By

How the wind howls; it makes me miss our windy springs. The house creaks and groans, the windows shake, the rushing air sings like the sirens of old . . . Unfortunately, snow is on the radar this evening.

Ever get those moods when you decide to take a drive down reminiscent lane? I don’t get them too terribly often, and when I do, the lane usually consists of the past year or two. Tonight, I had a longer lane . . digging up emails from 2007, reading conversations from 2008, documents from 2005-2009, etcetera.

My first thoughts were of how immature I was, how poorly I typed. And then I looked at it in a more positive light. How immature, yes, compared to what I hope I am now, but how much I’ve grown since then, how happy these memories were. I laughed, read out loud, grinned and joked with my brother about the memories. How often I take moments for granted, and how good it is to be reminded to not take them for granted.

I’m just now realizing how scattered this post is. Forgive me. It makes sense to my 10,000 TPM (thoughts per minute) mind, though that isn’t a very good thing.

School starts up again on Monday, and tonight I plunged through four chapters in my NCLEX review book. There were diseases I’d never heard of, symptoms completely unknown, knowledge yet unlearned. I’ve a long way to go, but I’m becoming more hopeful at my prospects.

Until next time.

Lacking Patience

Spring break is here. Finally.

Of course, I’ll be studying quite a lot, but that’s OK. No classes or clinicals to worry about . . . and that’s something huge.

Speaking of huge, I finally have wireless working on this machine. My dear dad was able to get it fixed today. It hasn’t been working for quite some time now, and that meant that I had to drag the printer’s router around everywhere in the house. Of course, when I left home for another wi-fi place, it connected just fine. Technology. I don’t get it. Never have, and probably never will.

Actually, it’s only thanks to Dad that anything like a computer works around here. I’m not sure about the rest of the family, but I have the patience of a starving animal (i.e. none) when it comes to my computer, iPod, phone, printer, etc. I found a video on youtube that practically shows exactly how I react. Thing doesn’t work. Get all frustrated and walk over to glower. Press some buttons angrily. Peer at it about 40% sure you’ve brilliantly fixed the problem. It doesn’t work. Pound it. That didn’t work? Pound it again REALLY HARD! And, BLAM! Oops. Now, not only did you get your socks blown off and your whiskers curled with fright, you’ve really gone and broken it.

Yeah, I’m a dork. I’ve watched this a few times and I still laugh until I cry.

Moral of the video? Be a geek. Life gets easier that way.

Coffee Shop Ramblings

I’m sitting at a Caribou Coffee shop right now. In front of me sits an older couple. Both are dressed comfortably and conservatively. There’s just one thing . . .

He is reading from a beat-up, tabbed paperback book.

She is reading from a Kindle.

I’m trying not to feel pity and/or sadness.

And then there’s the young fellow behind me. He can’t be much younger than I. Perhaps he’s eighteen . . . at least. He tapped my shoulder not long ago.
“Hi. Um . . . I can’t remember. How do you spell ‘people’? Is it ‘eop’ or oep’?”

I gave him the answer (fortunately for me, I knew that one), and he scribbled it down on a paper full of thick handwriting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he would momentarily grab the top of his head and make motions as if to rip off his scalp. I ignored it until once when I feared for his hair. Alarmed, I looked at him, and he turned to me with agony written in his eyes. Music blared from his large headphones.

Poor fellow.