읽을수록 머리 안이 하얘지네.
이주동안 까맣게 탄 나의 가슴
어디 누가 주스로 달랠텐가.
The more I read, the whiter my inner mind becomes
My heart has turned into black ash in a fortnight,
Who will soothe it with a glass of juice?
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Less than 3 weeks left.
I can do itsssssssssssssssssss.
The past 2 months have been nervewracking. I hate the sight of calendars now, as mine have scribbles all over the place with colour-coded due dates and notes on what I want to finish by when. Plus this flame of hatred that I feel whenever I look at certain bits written in fire engine red.
But it's okay. I'll be home soon. Granted, the rest of my family's gone ladidah-ing to Korea, so I'm going back to an empty apartment with probably no food. Yes. They're gone! My parents are gone until April to visit with relatives and look at some investment opportunities and my brother is staying there for...a year? two years? to teach English. I envy them mainly for the food. I was dreaming of a duck stew specialty in my hometown, but my mother's latest e-mail tells me that it's all gone to hell. It makes me mad. My brother started a blog of his own. There's a link to it on the right.
But I'll be in Toronto. That's the point. I'm going to stuff myself with food and meet friends and putz around watching the Food Network and playing video games. The last part will have to be at Robert's house, since I won't have cable or internet at the abandoned apartment. Le sigh.
I submitted my placement proposal for the final clinical course today. I'm applying to study at the PICU in SickKids next May. I'm hoping it will be a foot in the door for when I apply to work there as a real nurse. I want to work there SO BAD. It would help me oh so much. But can't think about it now. I gotta do readings. Then after readings, studying. Then after studying, exams. Possibly an interview with the head of the School of Nursing to discuss my placement at SickKids in between all of that.
I'll be home on the 19th. 17 days to go!
The past 2 months have been nervewracking. I hate the sight of calendars now, as mine have scribbles all over the place with colour-coded due dates and notes on what I want to finish by when. Plus this flame of hatred that I feel whenever I look at certain bits written in fire engine red.
But it's okay. I'll be home soon. Granted, the rest of my family's gone ladidah-ing to Korea, so I'm going back to an empty apartment with probably no food. Yes. They're gone! My parents are gone until April to visit with relatives and look at some investment opportunities and my brother is staying there for...a year? two years? to teach English. I envy them mainly for the food. I was dreaming of a duck stew specialty in my hometown, but my mother's latest e-mail tells me that it's all gone to hell. It makes me mad. My brother started a blog of his own. There's a link to it on the right.
But I'll be in Toronto. That's the point. I'm going to stuff myself with food and meet friends and putz around watching the Food Network and playing video games. The last part will have to be at Robert's house, since I won't have cable or internet at the abandoned apartment. Le sigh.
I submitted my placement proposal for the final clinical course today. I'm applying to study at the PICU in SickKids next May. I'm hoping it will be a foot in the door for when I apply to work there as a real nurse. I want to work there SO BAD. It would help me oh so much. But can't think about it now. I gotta do readings. Then after readings, studying. Then after studying, exams. Possibly an interview with the head of the School of Nursing to discuss my placement at SickKids in between all of that.
I'll be home on the 19th. 17 days to go!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
It's a work in progress.
I need somewhere to work out my course evaluation for a certain person at the end of this term. People seem to enjoy the bitterness and it never hurts to get feedback on one's compositions. This is only a draft. It will get updated as the bitterness accumulates and distills into the finest form of written cyanide. It's been awhile since I've written anything worth reading, so the purifying process may take awhile yet. But am I in a hurry? Not really. Whatever I have by December will be submitted. And then I have another 4 months to polish THAT draft and submit it again.
Subject: On the topic of course communication
The frequency of e-mails rivals that of the most virulent spambot in existence. The contents themselves, being so convoluted by length and pointless wordiness, are indecipherable to the point of making students shudder upon seeing the dreaded mail icon in WebCT. To actually understand the course itself, one must rely on those poor unfortunate souls who manage to navigate through the mazelike sentences through any combination of luck, sheer force of will and fear. If the tool that is supposed to enhance and facilitate understanding between individuals is simply ignored most of the time by the receiving party, then it is obviously not being used properly. One may be assured that after receiving up to five e-mails in one day that are marked as being important or urgent but say nothing, it should come as no surprise that students eventually end up ignoring them. Operant conditioning is a powerful thing.
A teacher must be professional at all times. If there are numerous questions on the WebCT discussion board regarding a certain issue, then there is a serious miscommunication from the teacher's end. As the provider of information, the teacher is responsible for answering questions in a manner that cannot be reproached for snarkiness or misdirected anger. If a question is answered directly, it must follow that students will be satisfied.
Subject: On the topic of a certain lecture
When one clearly loses one's voice and cannot be understood even with a microphone, it is an appropriate time to cancel class. Students learn nothing from a teacher who sounds as though she is on the threshold of death. It should be obvious that miming is not an effective communcation method. This is a university class and not a 3-hour game of charades.
Subject: On the topic of course organization
A syllabus should not be 50 pages long. The information within should be easy to find. The most important part of a syllabus is the list of assignments and their due dates. This should be the most prominent, instead of being buried under paragraphs of mindless text. This helps not only the students but also the preceptors, since one may be sure that clinical nurses will not read all 50 pages of the package, if they've opened it at all. If one wishes to publish a book, then one can easily do so online at various self-publishing websites and not foist their prose disguised as course material on defenseless students. If the faculty is confused about what the course entails, then this is an indication that the expectations of the course are too much. The blind leading the blind will not end well.
Like I said, this is but a beginning draft. You can expect much more from me if I start having blood-drenched nightmares again.
Subject: On the topic of course communication
The frequency of e-mails rivals that of the most virulent spambot in existence. The contents themselves, being so convoluted by length and pointless wordiness, are indecipherable to the point of making students shudder upon seeing the dreaded mail icon in WebCT. To actually understand the course itself, one must rely on those poor unfortunate souls who manage to navigate through the mazelike sentences through any combination of luck, sheer force of will and fear. If the tool that is supposed to enhance and facilitate understanding between individuals is simply ignored most of the time by the receiving party, then it is obviously not being used properly. One may be assured that after receiving up to five e-mails in one day that are marked as being important or urgent but say nothing, it should come as no surprise that students eventually end up ignoring them. Operant conditioning is a powerful thing.
A teacher must be professional at all times. If there are numerous questions on the WebCT discussion board regarding a certain issue, then there is a serious miscommunication from the teacher's end. As the provider of information, the teacher is responsible for answering questions in a manner that cannot be reproached for snarkiness or misdirected anger. If a question is answered directly, it must follow that students will be satisfied.
Subject: On the topic of a certain lecture
When one clearly loses one's voice and cannot be understood even with a microphone, it is an appropriate time to cancel class. Students learn nothing from a teacher who sounds as though she is on the threshold of death. It should be obvious that miming is not an effective communcation method. This is a university class and not a 3-hour game of charades.
Subject: On the topic of course organization
A syllabus should not be 50 pages long. The information within should be easy to find. The most important part of a syllabus is the list of assignments and their due dates. This should be the most prominent, instead of being buried under paragraphs of mindless text. This helps not only the students but also the preceptors, since one may be sure that clinical nurses will not read all 50 pages of the package, if they've opened it at all. If one wishes to publish a book, then one can easily do so online at various self-publishing websites and not foist their prose disguised as course material on defenseless students. If the faculty is confused about what the course entails, then this is an indication that the expectations of the course are too much. The blind leading the blind will not end well.
Like I said, this is but a beginning draft. You can expect much more from me if I start having blood-drenched nightmares again.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Okay, so clinical placement this year...
There was a lot of confusion over my clinical placement this year. Honestly, I get a little jolt of fear running through me whenever I open my school e-mail and see a new message waiting for me.
First, the prof who is in charge of the course had some difficulty finding placements for people, because of all the health institutions trying to prepare for the possible resurgence of H1N1 pandemic in the fall. Which meant that instead of getting our placement information sometime in July as promised, we got them in late August.
When she did e-mail/call me, it was to ask if I'd had a psychiatry placement already. Because she'd asked for our résumés back in April, I hadn't included my fascinating experience from May (of which you know). She had wanted to put me BACK at the psychiatric institution. O_O
At that point, I was just worried about having a damn place to work during the year. I told her that it was not my first choice, since I'd already done psych and I'm sure there were many students who hadn't had that wonderful experience. (It's kind of mandatory to have psych before you graduate.) She said okay, that psych placement wasn't even a sure thing anyway.
O_o Why would you even offer it to me unless it was a sure thing?
She got back to me a few days later and said that I'd been placed at community clinic. Okay, it's sort of on the opposite side of Montreal, but hell, I commuted to Maimonides, which is like 2 bus stops down from there for a term. I wasn't particularly picky about it. The placement was described as "Services Généraux", which I assume to be regular check-ups and such. I contacted the preceptor listed on the professor's ginormous Excel file and sent my résumé.
I was so relieved at having found a place that was not psych (again) and was not exclusively geriatric (again).
Oh, this is not the end of the story. Last Friday, I got an e-mail from the prof, telling me that my placement was "lost". I was confused, because I'd already talked to my preceptor and he hadn't said anything about changing jobs. Apparently, I had talked to the wrong person, because the prof couldn't figure out how to line up my name properly in the Excel file.
Yeah. She couldn't figure out how to move my name down 3 rows in an Excel file.
-_____________________-
That's a severely disgruntled face.
She wrote that she was trying to find another spot for me somewhere else and that I shouldn't panic, because there was still a whole week left before our first week at the clinics.
I did not take this well. It was more of a panic than anger. There are clinical hours that I need to fulfill to graduate. How could they lose a placement in the span of a week? Also, why wasn't the prof telling me the possible consequences of not finding a place for me at all? Why the terrible lack of organization?
Okay, so there was a teeny bit of frustration in there. Just a tiny bit. That's when I decided, screw it, I'm not going to let it keep me from relaxing the Labour Day weekend away. So I did the Buddhist ritual of 108 bows, meditated and generally felt better.
Finally after badgering her in class and via e-mail, I received word that I would be placed in an Enfance-Famille program on the southwest corner of Montreal. I was really happy about it. It's easier to get to (on the green métro line) and babies! On Friday, my newly assigned preceptor called me back.
The first thing she said after we'd said hello was, "Do you want to talk to your prof about finding another preceptor for you?"
I think when she heard the voicemail I left in English (because duh, I'm anglophone), she thought she wouldn't be able to communicate well enough with me. I wasn't about to give up three bloody days before the start of our clinical duties. Unless she was going to move out of the city, get pregnant or fake her death, she was going to teach me and I was going to learn from her, goddammit.
Her: I use French mostly and I'm afraid I won't be know how to explain some things in English. I only use English with my anglophone clients.
Me: That's okay. I've been studying French since elementary school and I feel comfortable with it.
Her: Could you say something in French for me?
[Rest of the phone conversation was in French]
Her: You see, we write our charts here in French.
Me: I was at the Douglas in May and all the nurses there were francophone, most of the patients spoke French and reports were done in French and I had no problems. I took courses at McGill for both conversational French and written French.
Her: Hmmmm....
Me: Sometimes I might get confused if someone talks really fast, but I can look things up and I have no problems asking for clarification.
Her: Okay, which day would you prefer to meet?
If she had asked for a writing sample, I would have totally composed a damn essay right then and there in my zeal to keep this placement.
So hopefully, this year will go well. If another thing goes wrong with this, I don't know what will happen to my already fragile sanity.
Click the photo to see the detailed contents.
First, the prof who is in charge of the course had some difficulty finding placements for people, because of all the health institutions trying to prepare for the possible resurgence of H1N1 pandemic in the fall. Which meant that instead of getting our placement information sometime in July as promised, we got them in late August.
When she did e-mail/call me, it was to ask if I'd had a psychiatry placement already. Because she'd asked for our résumés back in April, I hadn't included my fascinating experience from May (of which you know). She had wanted to put me BACK at the psychiatric institution. O_O
At that point, I was just worried about having a damn place to work during the year. I told her that it was not my first choice, since I'd already done psych and I'm sure there were many students who hadn't had that wonderful experience. (It's kind of mandatory to have psych before you graduate.) She said okay, that psych placement wasn't even a sure thing anyway.
O_o Why would you even offer it to me unless it was a sure thing?
She got back to me a few days later and said that I'd been placed at community clinic. Okay, it's sort of on the opposite side of Montreal, but hell, I commuted to Maimonides, which is like 2 bus stops down from there for a term. I wasn't particularly picky about it. The placement was described as "Services Généraux", which I assume to be regular check-ups and such. I contacted the preceptor listed on the professor's ginormous Excel file and sent my résumé.
I was so relieved at having found a place that was not psych (again) and was not exclusively geriatric (again).
Oh, this is not the end of the story. Last Friday, I got an e-mail from the prof, telling me that my placement was "lost". I was confused, because I'd already talked to my preceptor and he hadn't said anything about changing jobs. Apparently, I had talked to the wrong person, because the prof couldn't figure out how to line up my name properly in the Excel file.
Yeah. She couldn't figure out how to move my name down 3 rows in an Excel file.
-_____________________-
That's a severely disgruntled face.
She wrote that she was trying to find another spot for me somewhere else and that I shouldn't panic, because there was still a whole week left before our first week at the clinics.
I did not take this well. It was more of a panic than anger. There are clinical hours that I need to fulfill to graduate. How could they lose a placement in the span of a week? Also, why wasn't the prof telling me the possible consequences of not finding a place for me at all? Why the terrible lack of organization?
Okay, so there was a teeny bit of frustration in there. Just a tiny bit. That's when I decided, screw it, I'm not going to let it keep me from relaxing the Labour Day weekend away. So I did the Buddhist ritual of 108 bows, meditated and generally felt better.
Finally after badgering her in class and via e-mail, I received word that I would be placed in an Enfance-Famille program on the southwest corner of Montreal. I was really happy about it. It's easier to get to (on the green métro line) and babies! On Friday, my newly assigned preceptor called me back.
The first thing she said after we'd said hello was, "Do you want to talk to your prof about finding another preceptor for you?"
I think when she heard the voicemail I left in English (because duh, I'm anglophone), she thought she wouldn't be able to communicate well enough with me. I wasn't about to give up three bloody days before the start of our clinical duties. Unless she was going to move out of the city, get pregnant or fake her death, she was going to teach me and I was going to learn from her, goddammit.
Her: I use French mostly and I'm afraid I won't be know how to explain some things in English. I only use English with my anglophone clients.
Me: That's okay. I've been studying French since elementary school and I feel comfortable with it.
Her: Could you say something in French for me?
[Rest of the phone conversation was in French]
Her: You see, we write our charts here in French.
Me: I was at the Douglas in May and all the nurses there were francophone, most of the patients spoke French and reports were done in French and I had no problems. I took courses at McGill for both conversational French and written French.
Her: Hmmmm....
Me: Sometimes I might get confused if someone talks really fast, but I can look things up and I have no problems asking for clarification.
Her: Okay, which day would you prefer to meet?
If she had asked for a writing sample, I would have totally composed a damn essay right then and there in my zeal to keep this placement.
So hopefully, this year will go well. If another thing goes wrong with this, I don't know what will happen to my already fragile sanity.
Click the photo to see the detailed contents.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Cooking Attempts 33~40: Wow, I had a lot of food pictures on my camera. ^_^;;
짜장면 (Black bean noodles with pork)
This is Korean-style Chinese food. It's probably the most popular comfort food for Koreans, cheap and filling. Whenever I have these noodles, I think about this "Chinese" restaurant I used to go with my family back in Korea. There was a ginormous painting of a tiger on their wall and I used to stare at it while slurping down a bowl of noodles. Ahhhh~ memories. Anyway, it's usually got chunks of pork, onion and potato. For a little extra, you can get seafood in it too.
Tuna pasta salad
Um...it's tuna pasta salad! With onion and red peppers for colour. Nothing really special, but it was really nice to take to the hospital for lunch.
Egg salad with curry powder
I was bored of normal egg salad, so I sprinkled a spoonful of curry powder and Korean chili powder. It makes the colour pop, I think. Num.
삼계탕 (Korean chicken porridge)
It's like congee, but thicker. Probably because we use sticky rice. We use sticky rice for everything, even fried rice.
First I made chicken stock with drumsticks, onion and a whole lot of garlic.
When the meat was cooked, I took it out and rubbed pepper and salt all over it. This is while the rice was softening in the stock.
I stuck the meat back in when it was all done. Then a handful of chopped green onions!
Strawberry crumble
I had half a bag of frozen strawberries taking up space in the freezer, so I followed the instructions on the package to make strawberry crumble. I didn't have enough strawberries to make a decent panful of the dessert, so I used my Korean ceramic soupbowl. It was yummy, but probably would have been better if I had completely chilled it first.
Pearsauce
I bought a small basket of Bartlett pears for $2.50 on Tuesday. Knowing that I couldn't possibly finish it all before it started going funky, I decided to follow this recipe and make something that I've always wanted to try.
On the left, you can see the lemon peels I fished out after the pears were done cooking.
I also blended the hell out of it rather than using a potato masher, because I wanted a smoother texture and...I don't have a masher.
오이무침 (Korean cucumber side dish)
Despite the oodles of chili flakes you see there, this dish isn't that spicy. The cool blandness of the cucumbers balance it out nicely. It's really quick to make too. You slice cucumbers and then toss it with salt to take the water out. Wait for 20 minutes, rinse the cucumbers in cold water and then squeeze out the excess water. Then toss in some garlic, green onions, soy sauce, vinegar, chili powder and mix, mix, mix! Eat with rice, as with any Korean food.
This is Korean-style Chinese food. It's probably the most popular comfort food for Koreans, cheap and filling. Whenever I have these noodles, I think about this "Chinese" restaurant I used to go with my family back in Korea. There was a ginormous painting of a tiger on their wall and I used to stare at it while slurping down a bowl of noodles. Ahhhh~ memories. Anyway, it's usually got chunks of pork, onion and potato. For a little extra, you can get seafood in it too.
Tuna pasta salad
Um...it's tuna pasta salad! With onion and red peppers for colour. Nothing really special, but it was really nice to take to the hospital for lunch.
Egg salad with curry powder
I was bored of normal egg salad, so I sprinkled a spoonful of curry powder and Korean chili powder. It makes the colour pop, I think. Num.
삼계탕 (Korean chicken porridge)
It's like congee, but thicker. Probably because we use sticky rice. We use sticky rice for everything, even fried rice.
First I made chicken stock with drumsticks, onion and a whole lot of garlic.
When the meat was cooked, I took it out and rubbed pepper and salt all over it. This is while the rice was softening in the stock.
I stuck the meat back in when it was all done. Then a handful of chopped green onions!Strawberry crumble
I had half a bag of frozen strawberries taking up space in the freezer, so I followed the instructions on the package to make strawberry crumble. I didn't have enough strawberries to make a decent panful of the dessert, so I used my Korean ceramic soupbowl. It was yummy, but probably would have been better if I had completely chilled it first.
Pearsauce
I bought a small basket of Bartlett pears for $2.50 on Tuesday. Knowing that I couldn't possibly finish it all before it started going funky, I decided to follow this recipe and make something that I've always wanted to try.
On the left, you can see the lemon peels I fished out after the pears were done cooking.
I also blended the hell out of it rather than using a potato masher, because I wanted a smoother texture and...I don't have a masher.오이무침 (Korean cucumber side dish)
Despite the oodles of chili flakes you see there, this dish isn't that spicy. The cool blandness of the cucumbers balance it out nicely. It's really quick to make too. You slice cucumbers and then toss it with salt to take the water out. Wait for 20 minutes, rinse the cucumbers in cold water and then squeeze out the excess water. Then toss in some garlic, green onions, soy sauce, vinegar, chili powder and mix, mix, mix! Eat with rice, as with any Korean food.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Two days left until my last first day at McGill.
I've bought all my textbook already. $600 that I could've spent on so many other books that I would actually love to read. The English translation of "Good-bye Tsugumi" will have to wait a bit. At least until I get my OSAP money.
So I'm spending the 2 days tidying up the apartment and getting binders and books ready for the new school year. I'll be home in less than a year!
내일모레가 학교 첫날입니다.
나는 그때까지 쉴껍니다.
일어공부도 하고요.
The day after tomorrow is the first day of school.
Until then, I will relax.
I will also study Japanese.
Lendemain est le premier jour d'école.
Jusqu'à ce temps-là, je vais me relaxer.
Je vais étudier le japonais aussi.
My mother is right. I live for self-improvement. ^_~
So I'm spending the 2 days tidying up the apartment and getting binders and books ready for the new school year. I'll be home in less than a year!
明後日、学校のはじめの日です。
私はそれまでレラックスするよ。
日本語の研究もする。
내일모레가 학교 첫날입니다.
나는 그때까지 쉴껍니다.
일어공부도 하고요.
The day after tomorrow is the first day of school.
Until then, I will relax.
I will also study Japanese.
Lendemain est le premier jour d'école.
Jusqu'à ce temps-là, je vais me relaxer.
Je vais étudier le japonais aussi.
My mother is right. I live for self-improvement. ^_~
Thursday, August 27, 2009
My last day as a summer extern
Today was my last day working at the Children's Hospital as a nursing extern. While I might not have learned much about new ailments, medications and procedures, I learned lots of other things. Working in a small unit also meant that I got to see the same patients for a long period of time and follow their progress and development. When I first arrived back in June, none of the three toddlers could walk on their own, but now they're zipping down the hallway as soon as your back is turned and you have to chase them down before they lick the wheels of a baby carriage or something. There's a routine there and sometimes it did get a bit tedious, but it helps you become super efficient.
Anyway, you know how I love lists. So here we go...
Things that I learned
1) How to feed toddlers: I learned distraction methods, ways to disguise certain foods in other foods, hiding dessert until the main meal had been consumed, techniques to maneuver the spoon around scrambling hands to the mouth and ever so much more. Got a kid who likes to spit stuff out in order to see your reaction? Oh, my "I'm ignoring you for the next 30 seconds" face is positively stony.
2) How to stop tantrums: My brother used to fling himself backwards onto the floor from a sitting position when he was a toddler. I was about 7, but I learned to strike my hand out lightning fast to cushion his head centimetres above the floor. Oh he would continue to whine, but at least there was no danger of a head injury. I found that the best method to deal with a tantrum is to pay attention but don't. One kid likes to fling herself backwards (from a standing position, no less). Of course I grab her arms so she doesn't get hurt, but then I lower her onto the floor gently and she can writhe around all she wants. Meanwhile, I stand above her with my arms crossed. "What drama for nothing at all. Let's stop the nonsense, " I say in a bored voice. She cries and wriggles for a minute or so and when she gets up and stops sniffling, then she gets properly comforted with a hug.
3) How to give report: Report is passing pertinent information to the nurse who is taking over for during your break or the next shift. I still need some work on this. Usually my thoughts are so jumbled at the end of the day that I need a minute just to figure out where to get started. Of course, everything is charted, but it's faster for the nurse to hear the info directly from you and be able to ask questions. Lately, I've been writing down a short list of issues I want to mention as I write the chart, like "Sprint, Splints, Genetics, Nystatin" and these help jog my memory when it's fried from a 12-hour shift.
4) I don't like 12-hour shifts: They have 12-hour shifts at this hospital, because they say that it's less hectic and confusing for the patients to have 2 different nurses throughout the day than 3. But it's very tiring and rather unfair, as the day nurses pretty much do a huge chunk of the paperwork and follow-ups while the night nurses are doing vitals or something. I hope that my hopeful working place when I'm a nurse (Sick Kids? Pretty please?) has 8-hour shifts. During the summer, I would start work at 7am, take a 30-minute break around 11am, take an hour lunch around 3pm and then go home at 7pm. I had lunch when most people would be going home. Guh. From now on, I shall never feel that 8 hours is a long time to work. NUH UH.
5) How to be patient: Let's face it. People are dumb. Children can be frustrating as heck. For heaven's sake, I'm trying to give you banana-flavoured medicine. BANANA-FLAVOURED MEDICINE! Do you really want something up your bum instead? Because that's the alternative: suppository up the bum. But no, you must never lose your composure. If you can't manage a smile, at least have a really good placid mask. It'll keep the patient from being startled at the sudden murderous flash in your eyes when she bites your arm. Which actually happened once, I'm sorry to say.
6) Never get married to a relative: I of course knew this long before I started working at the hospital, but this summer, it's been pretty much hammered into my brain. If you can trace a common ancestor somewhere in your family records, then it's too close. Even if they're your fourth cousin twice removed (whatever that means), it's too close. Don't bother arguing with me. IT'S JUST TOO CLOSE. Now stop it. *shudder*
7) I'm okay with all bodily fluids except for mucous (from nose, mouth, trach) and earwax: Feces? Fine. Urine? Fine. Blood? I LOVE blood. Blood is the best thing on this list. Snot? It's not fine. It's especially not fine when you're suctioning the nose and your Yankauer just keeps sucking out an enormous amount of [stuff] (edited for sake of reader comfort). And have you seen the way peroxide solution fizzes when it meets earwax? *deep breath in and out*
8) But even when you're disgusted, don't show it: You're a professional, goddammit. If you need to silently scream because of the [stuff] that's shooting out from the trach when your patient coughs, put on a damn mask.
All in all, it was a very good learning experience, wouldn't you say?
Anyway, you know how I love lists. So here we go...
Things that I learned
1) How to feed toddlers: I learned distraction methods, ways to disguise certain foods in other foods, hiding dessert until the main meal had been consumed, techniques to maneuver the spoon around scrambling hands to the mouth and ever so much more. Got a kid who likes to spit stuff out in order to see your reaction? Oh, my "I'm ignoring you for the next 30 seconds" face is positively stony.
2) How to stop tantrums: My brother used to fling himself backwards onto the floor from a sitting position when he was a toddler. I was about 7, but I learned to strike my hand out lightning fast to cushion his head centimetres above the floor. Oh he would continue to whine, but at least there was no danger of a head injury. I found that the best method to deal with a tantrum is to pay attention but don't. One kid likes to fling herself backwards (from a standing position, no less). Of course I grab her arms so she doesn't get hurt, but then I lower her onto the floor gently and she can writhe around all she wants. Meanwhile, I stand above her with my arms crossed. "What drama for nothing at all. Let's stop the nonsense, " I say in a bored voice. She cries and wriggles for a minute or so and when she gets up and stops sniffling, then she gets properly comforted with a hug.
3) How to give report: Report is passing pertinent information to the nurse who is taking over for during your break or the next shift. I still need some work on this. Usually my thoughts are so jumbled at the end of the day that I need a minute just to figure out where to get started. Of course, everything is charted, but it's faster for the nurse to hear the info directly from you and be able to ask questions. Lately, I've been writing down a short list of issues I want to mention as I write the chart, like "Sprint, Splints, Genetics, Nystatin" and these help jog my memory when it's fried from a 12-hour shift.
4) I don't like 12-hour shifts: They have 12-hour shifts at this hospital, because they say that it's less hectic and confusing for the patients to have 2 different nurses throughout the day than 3. But it's very tiring and rather unfair, as the day nurses pretty much do a huge chunk of the paperwork and follow-ups while the night nurses are doing vitals or something. I hope that my hopeful working place when I'm a nurse (Sick Kids? Pretty please?) has 8-hour shifts. During the summer, I would start work at 7am, take a 30-minute break around 11am, take an hour lunch around 3pm and then go home at 7pm. I had lunch when most people would be going home. Guh. From now on, I shall never feel that 8 hours is a long time to work. NUH UH.
5) How to be patient: Let's face it. People are dumb. Children can be frustrating as heck. For heaven's sake, I'm trying to give you banana-flavoured medicine. BANANA-FLAVOURED MEDICINE! Do you really want something up your bum instead? Because that's the alternative: suppository up the bum. But no, you must never lose your composure. If you can't manage a smile, at least have a really good placid mask. It'll keep the patient from being startled at the sudden murderous flash in your eyes when she bites your arm. Which actually happened once, I'm sorry to say.
6) Never get married to a relative: I of course knew this long before I started working at the hospital, but this summer, it's been pretty much hammered into my brain. If you can trace a common ancestor somewhere in your family records, then it's too close. Even if they're your fourth cousin twice removed (whatever that means), it's too close. Don't bother arguing with me. IT'S JUST TOO CLOSE. Now stop it. *shudder*
7) I'm okay with all bodily fluids except for mucous (from nose, mouth, trach) and earwax: Feces? Fine. Urine? Fine. Blood? I LOVE blood. Blood is the best thing on this list. Snot? It's not fine. It's especially not fine when you're suctioning the nose and your Yankauer just keeps sucking out an enormous amount of [stuff] (edited for sake of reader comfort). And have you seen the way peroxide solution fizzes when it meets earwax? *deep breath in and out*
8) But even when you're disgusted, don't show it: You're a professional, goddammit. If you need to silently scream because of the [stuff] that's shooting out from the trach when your patient coughs, put on a damn mask.
All in all, it was a very good learning experience, wouldn't you say?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
It's all for the children... *shifty eyes*
As a gift to the unit in my last days as a nursing extern, I've made a CD of cutesy songs from the Katamari Damacy video game series for the children here. They're here for so long, they might as well have something new to listen once in awhile.
It has nothing to do with the fact that I just want to listen to the awesome music while I'm changing diapers and feeding formula. No...how ridiculous would that be? I mean, it's not like I've snuck Korean hip hop in ther-
Well, alright, I did do that. But it's a mellow song that blends in seemlessly with Katamari's funky melodies. The lyrics are about breaking up, but how many people know Korean nowadays, right? I also put in an anime song and some clips from Viva Pinata. It's totally kid friendly!
So no one accuse me when I appear to enjoy the CDs just as much as the children, if not more. I'm moments away from singing along to the Katamari Que Sera Sera.
It's FRIGGING SWEET.
It has nothing to do with the fact that I just want to listen to the awesome music while I'm changing diapers and feeding formula. No...how ridiculous would that be? I mean, it's not like I've snuck Korean hip hop in ther-
Well, alright, I did do that. But it's a mellow song that blends in seemlessly with Katamari's funky melodies. The lyrics are about breaking up, but how many people know Korean nowadays, right? I also put in an anime song and some clips from Viva Pinata. It's totally kid friendly!
So no one accuse me when I appear to enjoy the CDs just as much as the children, if not more. I'm moments away from singing along to the Katamari Que Sera Sera.
It's FRIGGING SWEET.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Is this the explanation for all those Twilight readers?
Ah, Zetsubou sensei, you are wise. あ、ぜつぼう先生は賢いですね。
Well, I don't suppose everyone can have a childhood rich in literature. *snicker*
New Japanese word today: 賢い （かしこい） － adj. Wise
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Live blog: Overnight shift at the hospital
Believe me when I say that this will probably be more interesting due to my various antics to stay awake and keep busy than it will be for the things that go on at the hospital during the night. Especially, since I'm back on the chronic care unit. I was on the surgical unit unexpectedly last night and it was so drag-yourself-on-the-floor fatiguing.
8:45pm - Patients 1 and 2 are asleep in their cribs. They will stay asleep until I leave at 7:00am tomorrow morning (my gods willing). Patient 3 has a personal caregiver 24/7, so all I have to do is give him his feeds and his meds. I am now starting my Japanese exercises. Having mastered hiragana, I will now practice katakana. Kanji that's more complicated than "person", "big" and "I" can go straight to hell.
9:10pm - Okay, I lied. I actually haven't started studying Japanese yet. First I had to eat my delicious sammich (egg bread and spicy sausage slices - hell yes!) while browsing websites about terrible celebrity fashion. Now that my delicious sammich is all gone, I worry that I will be hypoglycemic later in the night. Thankfully, I also have a peach. But I'm no good at picking out peaches and fear that it won't be ripe enough and that I will be sorely disappointed as I have been so many times before with this particular fruit. Alas. Also, I have just tried out an anime site. It isn't blocked, BUT! this computer doesn't have flash player which pretty much makes it impossible to watch any videos on it. Victory snatched away!
9:15pm - But apparently it has a DVD player. Fate is kicking me in the butt, because of course, I don't HAVE any DVDs with me. Unless I want to watch Dora the Explorer or other kiddy stuff we have on the unit. And that's a no. What will I do when I have kids and I have to buy them crappy DVDs? Will I have to actually WATCH with them? I'd much rather read books with them or play with toys or make up imaginary play. Maybe it will be a "Mommy's naptime" activity. "Here kids, go watch this blue dog count to five ad nauseam while mommy honkshus for 2 hours. ZZZZZZZZ." Oh yeah, that will totally work. *thumbs up*
10:40pm - Slowly getting through the different types of verbs and how to conjugate them. It's easy enough once you have the rules down, but it's a matter of knowing enough verbs. Ever so slowly getting there.
11:30pm - There are sleep studies being performed in the room opposite ours. Which means the alarm rings whenever the heart rate, respiration rate or oxygen saturation drops below a certain limit. The alarm's so loud that I thought it was a fire alarm or something. One kid keeps ringing so often that it's waking up the other kid who's getting the study done. Which means that the other kid will probably have to do the study again tomorrow night, since the results from tonight won't be accurate. Finally, we've put tape over the speaker portion of the monitor and it's been quiet ever since.
12:30am - My preceptor's gone for her 2.5 hour nap. I usually sleep later than her, because 1) I have trouble falling asleep during work unless I'm tired out and 2) the later I take my nap, the less hours I have left to work when I wake up. Plus, I'm really into my studies now. 2 more chapters in this book and I should have the means to say basic sentences in Japanese. I think, I will now take a short break, however, to do some charting. Since I love making lists and crossing stuff off...
- do charting [done]
- finish off 2 more chapters [done]
- turn off the feeding pump and flush the gastric tube for patient 3 [done]
- take nap [done]
- wake up [done]
- do meds and more feedings [done]
- read Aishiteruze Baby online
4:15am - Back from my own nap. I've been taking my night shift naps on a spare cot that I drag into the conference room just next door. I put my eye mask on, zip up my hoody and huddle under the blankets. Even then, it takes me a good while to fall asleep. Tonight, I had an anime theme song running through my head. I have my cellphone alarm to wake me up, but I forgot to tell that to the PCA who scared the crap out of me by knocking on the door just ahead of the alarm. Ahhhh well.
5:00am - Well, I'm done everything on my list except reading Aishiteruze Baby and I don't feel like doing that just now. 2 hours left and I'm stuck for what to do? Should I study more? Read the news?
5:10am - What's this, what's this? I've been snooping around the computer, trying to see if anyone has copied a video worth watching onto it and found "Midnight Sun - partial draft", a PDF file. That sounds familiar, I thought. So I opened it up. And got through the middle of the second page and said, "Waaaaaaaaaait a minute." Title based on astronomical phenomenon? Character names taken from a smutty book in the 18th century, like Rosalie and Emmett? Pointless drivel that kept me completely uninterested? The name "Edward" hogging a whole line by itself AND italicized? This is a Twilight book! I closed the file with the speed of a hypochondriac shoving away a leper. (Digression: What a curious sentence.) But I find myself wondering, who was reading this at 6:30am on May 12th, 2009? Well, I do know that there were McGill students doing shifts here during that time. Bwahahahaha~
I don't know why I find this so amusing. A sense of gleeful superiority, I guess. I've been careful to avoid anything Twilight-related and am determined to keep it that way. Forever. Well! This has given me a second wind. I will fetch a glass of water and find something else to do!
5:40am - Found some tea biscuits in the kitchen. Sweeeeeeet. One of the sleep study kids are awake, thanks to the freaking alarm of the other kid. Now she's wandering up and down the hallway, practicing her recently acquired support-free ambulation. She's walking without holding onto anything, I mean. My kids better sleep until 6:50am at least. I mean it!
6:56am - Everyone woke up around 6:15am, just when I was trying to chart and tiptoeing around. Ah well. Kids are in playpens or walking around. It's great that some of these toddlers have started walking by themselves, but it makes it so tiring to chase them around and stop them from shoving electric plugs up their noses. No more night shifts until the end of the summer! Yatta!
8:45pm - Patients 1 and 2 are asleep in their cribs. They will stay asleep until I leave at 7:00am tomorrow morning (my gods willing). Patient 3 has a personal caregiver 24/7, so all I have to do is give him his feeds and his meds. I am now starting my Japanese exercises. Having mastered hiragana, I will now practice katakana. Kanji that's more complicated than "person", "big" and "I" can go straight to hell.
9:10pm - Okay, I lied. I actually haven't started studying Japanese yet. First I had to eat my delicious sammich (egg bread and spicy sausage slices - hell yes!) while browsing websites about terrible celebrity fashion. Now that my delicious sammich is all gone, I worry that I will be hypoglycemic later in the night. Thankfully, I also have a peach. But I'm no good at picking out peaches and fear that it won't be ripe enough and that I will be sorely disappointed as I have been so many times before with this particular fruit. Alas. Also, I have just tried out an anime site. It isn't blocked, BUT! this computer doesn't have flash player which pretty much makes it impossible to watch any videos on it. Victory snatched away!
9:15pm - But apparently it has a DVD player. Fate is kicking me in the butt, because of course, I don't HAVE any DVDs with me. Unless I want to watch Dora the Explorer or other kiddy stuff we have on the unit. And that's a no. What will I do when I have kids and I have to buy them crappy DVDs? Will I have to actually WATCH with them? I'd much rather read books with them or play with toys or make up imaginary play. Maybe it will be a "Mommy's naptime" activity. "Here kids, go watch this blue dog count to five ad nauseam while mommy honkshus for 2 hours. ZZZZZZZZ." Oh yeah, that will totally work. *thumbs up*
10:40pm - Slowly getting through the different types of verbs and how to conjugate them. It's easy enough once you have the rules down, but it's a matter of knowing enough verbs. Ever so slowly getting there.
11:30pm - There are sleep studies being performed in the room opposite ours. Which means the alarm rings whenever the heart rate, respiration rate or oxygen saturation drops below a certain limit. The alarm's so loud that I thought it was a fire alarm or something. One kid keeps ringing so often that it's waking up the other kid who's getting the study done. Which means that the other kid will probably have to do the study again tomorrow night, since the results from tonight won't be accurate. Finally, we've put tape over the speaker portion of the monitor and it's been quiet ever since.
12:30am - My preceptor's gone for her 2.5 hour nap. I usually sleep later than her, because 1) I have trouble falling asleep during work unless I'm tired out and 2) the later I take my nap, the less hours I have left to work when I wake up. Plus, I'm really into my studies now. 2 more chapters in this book and I should have the means to say basic sentences in Japanese. I think, I will now take a short break, however, to do some charting. Since I love making lists and crossing stuff off...
- do charting [done]
- finish off 2 more chapters [done]
- turn off the feeding pump and flush the gastric tube for patient 3 [done]
- take nap [done]
- wake up [done]
- do meds and more feedings [done]
- read Aishiteruze Baby online
4:15am - Back from my own nap. I've been taking my night shift naps on a spare cot that I drag into the conference room just next door. I put my eye mask on, zip up my hoody and huddle under the blankets. Even then, it takes me a good while to fall asleep. Tonight, I had an anime theme song running through my head. I have my cellphone alarm to wake me up, but I forgot to tell that to the PCA who scared the crap out of me by knocking on the door just ahead of the alarm. Ahhhh well.
5:00am - Well, I'm done everything on my list except reading Aishiteruze Baby and I don't feel like doing that just now. 2 hours left and I'm stuck for what to do? Should I study more? Read the news?
5:10am - What's this, what's this? I've been snooping around the computer, trying to see if anyone has copied a video worth watching onto it and found "Midnight Sun - partial draft", a PDF file. That sounds familiar, I thought. So I opened it up. And got through the middle of the second page and said, "Waaaaaaaaaait a minute." Title based on astronomical phenomenon? Character names taken from a smutty book in the 18th century, like Rosalie and Emmett? Pointless drivel that kept me completely uninterested? The name "Edward" hogging a whole line by itself AND italicized? This is a Twilight book! I closed the file with the speed of a hypochondriac shoving away a leper. (Digression: What a curious sentence.) But I find myself wondering, who was reading this at 6:30am on May 12th, 2009? Well, I do know that there were McGill students doing shifts here during that time. Bwahahahaha~
I don't know why I find this so amusing. A sense of gleeful superiority, I guess. I've been careful to avoid anything Twilight-related and am determined to keep it that way. Forever. Well! This has given me a second wind. I will fetch a glass of water and find something else to do!
5:40am - Found some tea biscuits in the kitchen. Sweeeeeeet. One of the sleep study kids are awake, thanks to the freaking alarm of the other kid. Now she's wandering up and down the hallway, practicing her recently acquired support-free ambulation. She's walking without holding onto anything, I mean. My kids better sleep until 6:50am at least. I mean it!
6:56am - Everyone woke up around 6:15am, just when I was trying to chart and tiptoeing around. Ah well. Kids are in playpens or walking around. It's great that some of these toddlers have started walking by themselves, but it makes it so tiring to chase them around and stop them from shoving electric plugs up their noses. No more night shifts until the end of the summer! Yatta!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Trying to stay awake as late as possible tonight.
The next five shifts for me are all overnight, so I need to change my sleep pattern. So let us see how much I can ramble on.
I've been reading Rousseau's Confessions over the summer. Just during my breaks at work, you understand. I tried reading it straight through back in high school and just couldn't do it. An autobiography can be so tiresome to read. Maybe my age also had something to do with the repugnance with which I abandoned it? Anyhoo, I'm past the middle point now and I honestly don't know what to think. I don't, or didn't know anything about Jean-Jacques Rousseau. I know nothing of philosophy except for that darn "Philosophy of Science" course I took in U of T and I hated it, to put it simply. I can't even be bothered to elaborate on what a waste of money and time that was.
The only other book of Rousseau's I have in my possession is La Nouvelle Héloïse and I haven't read it yet. I mean to, after Confessions and I hope I can get past the epistolary style. I know the first time I read "Les Liaisons Dangereuses", I was extremely confused about what was going on.
How do I find this autobiography of a man who describes himself as "too loving"? I suppose if he's being as truthful as he claims to be, then I can forgive his effusiveness. But here's the general feeling that I felt while reading:
Rousseau the child, clever but not thoroughly educated - Understandable.
Rousseau the teen, easily swayed by passions and whims - What a dumbass.
Rousseau the young adult, too full of dreams to be any useful - Still a dumbass.
Rousseau the somewhat successful adult, useful but still all over the place - Eh.
Reading the above, you can probably tell that I'm not too horribly impressed by his life. But maybe that's an indication that he really is trying to be honest about everything he's done. He's not trying to build himself up as anything more. All the impressions I got of his stages in life are what he thought of himself, I think. So that's good. Will it make the book very interesting for anyone but himself (and maybe his friends who are mentioned in it)? Probably not. I feel as though I'm reading it to be reading it. And that's never a good thing to say about a book, is it?
I have a feeling that once I'm done with it, it'll go back on my shelf and stay there for a long looooong time. ^_^;;
I've been reading Rousseau's Confessions over the summer. Just during my breaks at work, you understand. I tried reading it straight through back in high school and just couldn't do it. An autobiography can be so tiresome to read. Maybe my age also had something to do with the repugnance with which I abandoned it? Anyhoo, I'm past the middle point now and I honestly don't know what to think. I don't, or didn't know anything about Jean-Jacques Rousseau. I know nothing of philosophy except for that darn "Philosophy of Science" course I took in U of T and I hated it, to put it simply. I can't even be bothered to elaborate on what a waste of money and time that was.
The only other book of Rousseau's I have in my possession is La Nouvelle Héloïse and I haven't read it yet. I mean to, after Confessions and I hope I can get past the epistolary style. I know the first time I read "Les Liaisons Dangereuses", I was extremely confused about what was going on.
How do I find this autobiography of a man who describes himself as "too loving"? I suppose if he's being as truthful as he claims to be, then I can forgive his effusiveness. But here's the general feeling that I felt while reading:
Rousseau the child, clever but not thoroughly educated - Understandable.
Rousseau the teen, easily swayed by passions and whims - What a dumbass.
Rousseau the young adult, too full of dreams to be any useful - Still a dumbass.
Rousseau the somewhat successful adult, useful but still all over the place - Eh.
Reading the above, you can probably tell that I'm not too horribly impressed by his life. But maybe that's an indication that he really is trying to be honest about everything he's done. He's not trying to build himself up as anything more. All the impressions I got of his stages in life are what he thought of himself, I think. So that's good. Will it make the book very interesting for anyone but himself (and maybe his friends who are mentioned in it)? Probably not. I feel as though I'm reading it to be reading it. And that's never a good thing to say about a book, is it?
I have a feeling that once I'm done with it, it'll go back on my shelf and stay there for a long looooong time. ^_^;;
Friday, July 3, 2009
What a day...
I worked 12 hour shifts on Wednesday and Thursday. Wednesday was alright, even though it WAS Canada Day. Thursday was admittedly more difficult. When you've been out of the house for 13.5 hours only to drag yourself back out early the next day, your brain is going to falter a bit.
I was okay until about 3:30pm on Thursday. That's when I got back from my lunch. I work in the tech-dependent unit, which is a room with 3 patients and a nurse's desk in the corner. The kids there are mostly toddlers with tracheostomies and require constant supervision and oxygen monitoring. One baby was out on day pass with his parents and the other two toddlers were napping. So I was free to drift along in my Elvish sleep. The 3.5 hours passed without incident and my shift was over.
There's a mini bus schedule that I made on a cue-card that has all the important times (when my shifts start and end) for the bus that conveniently connects the hospital and my apartment along a road without much traffic. I love that bus.
Yesterday, however, I left the building and realized that the bus wouldn't come for another 15 minutes. No problem, the hospital is right next to a subway station. What I didn't account for was the half-zombified state of my brain.
I went to Atwater métro station, paid my fare and went down to the platform. I remember looking across the tracks to the opposite platform and noting that it was heading towards Honoré-Beaugrand (which is kind of like Kennedy station on the Bloor-Danforth line). What I didn't note was that THAT was the direction I was supposed to be heading in. Believe me when I tell you that I am well acquainted with this particular station. Last fall, I did my clinical placement at this same hospital. I go down there to shop at the Korean market which is nearby. I know Atwater station damn well, is my point. Now why, on this particular day, I decided to go down the staircase on the left instead of the right is a mystery. Maybe my brain was angry with me for subjecting it to the smell of chlorhexidine all day, I don't know. But there I was, placidly looking up at the TV screen and wondering what the weather would be like in the evening for 5 minutes straight without even thinking about whether I was on the right platform or not.
The train arrived and I got on. Now, my station, Place des Arts, is 5 stops east from Atwater. So one doesn't want to zonk out completely during the subway ride. Zonking out partially is okay, though. While I was in this haze, I heard the announcement, "Attention. Attention. Charlevoix station is closed. Buses are available from..." I thought to myself, "That's strange. They don't do that announcement unless you're going west on the green line." Then came the announcement, "Next station, Lionel-Groulx." It took 2 seconds to sink in. That's right. I was heading west. Thankfully, it was only one station in the wrong direction, so I got off.
Lionel-Groulx is like Bloor, where you can transfer between the green and orange lines. But unlike Bloor where you change floors to change lines, here you change floor to change your direction. Nonsense, you cry! I tell you, it's true. My brain apparently wasn't done screwing with me, so I mindlessly walked across the platform and got on the train, thinking that my misadventures were at an end.
I wouldn't be posting this if that was the end. Oh no. Being squishy of brain, I had changed to the orange line. When they announced, "Next station, Place St. Henri", I actually said aloud, "Bloody hell!" By this time, I would have been better off just sitting on the bench in front of the hospital and waiting for the damn bus. With a supreme burst of effort, I forced myself to stay alert and made it back to Place des Arts without making any more blunders.
All that was left was to take a bus for a short distance to my apartment. Imagine what I discovered when I exited the station! It's Internation Jazz Festival time here in Montreal and all the streets in the area were closed off for the concerts. This was the last straw. I was hungry, I was tired, it was bloody hot and sticky. If I were a child of less principles, I would have thrown a screaming tantrum right then and there. (Fact: My parents swear that I have never thrown tantrums, just death glares which is infinitely more endurable.)
Grumbling, I walked to my apartment. It was only a 10 minute walk, but I let myself wear the cranky pants that had been collecting dust in the closet of mind. Once I was home though, a shower and some food fixed EVERYTHING. Ahhhh~ Then I passed out on the bed and slept the night away. ^_^
Later in the month, I have to work three 12-hour NIGHT shifts in a row. I'll be happy if I don't somehow end up in Ottawa after that.
I was okay until about 3:30pm on Thursday. That's when I got back from my lunch. I work in the tech-dependent unit, which is a room with 3 patients and a nurse's desk in the corner. The kids there are mostly toddlers with tracheostomies and require constant supervision and oxygen monitoring. One baby was out on day pass with his parents and the other two toddlers were napping. So I was free to drift along in my Elvish sleep. The 3.5 hours passed without incident and my shift was over.
There's a mini bus schedule that I made on a cue-card that has all the important times (when my shifts start and end) for the bus that conveniently connects the hospital and my apartment along a road without much traffic. I love that bus.
Yesterday, however, I left the building and realized that the bus wouldn't come for another 15 minutes. No problem, the hospital is right next to a subway station. What I didn't account for was the half-zombified state of my brain.
I went to Atwater métro station, paid my fare and went down to the platform. I remember looking across the tracks to the opposite platform and noting that it was heading towards Honoré-Beaugrand (which is kind of like Kennedy station on the Bloor-Danforth line). What I didn't note was that THAT was the direction I was supposed to be heading in. Believe me when I tell you that I am well acquainted with this particular station. Last fall, I did my clinical placement at this same hospital. I go down there to shop at the Korean market which is nearby. I know Atwater station damn well, is my point. Now why, on this particular day, I decided to go down the staircase on the left instead of the right is a mystery. Maybe my brain was angry with me for subjecting it to the smell of chlorhexidine all day, I don't know. But there I was, placidly looking up at the TV screen and wondering what the weather would be like in the evening for 5 minutes straight without even thinking about whether I was on the right platform or not.
The train arrived and I got on. Now, my station, Place des Arts, is 5 stops east from Atwater. So one doesn't want to zonk out completely during the subway ride. Zonking out partially is okay, though. While I was in this haze, I heard the announcement, "Attention. Attention. Charlevoix station is closed. Buses are available from..." I thought to myself, "That's strange. They don't do that announcement unless you're going west on the green line." Then came the announcement, "Next station, Lionel-Groulx." It took 2 seconds to sink in. That's right. I was heading west. Thankfully, it was only one station in the wrong direction, so I got off.
Lionel-Groulx is like Bloor, where you can transfer between the green and orange lines. But unlike Bloor where you change floors to change lines, here you change floor to change your direction. Nonsense, you cry! I tell you, it's true. My brain apparently wasn't done screwing with me, so I mindlessly walked across the platform and got on the train, thinking that my misadventures were at an end.
I wouldn't be posting this if that was the end. Oh no. Being squishy of brain, I had changed to the orange line. When they announced, "Next station, Place St. Henri", I actually said aloud, "Bloody hell!" By this time, I would have been better off just sitting on the bench in front of the hospital and waiting for the damn bus. With a supreme burst of effort, I forced myself to stay alert and made it back to Place des Arts without making any more blunders.
All that was left was to take a bus for a short distance to my apartment. Imagine what I discovered when I exited the station! It's Internation Jazz Festival time here in Montreal and all the streets in the area were closed off for the concerts. This was the last straw. I was hungry, I was tired, it was bloody hot and sticky. If I were a child of less principles, I would have thrown a screaming tantrum right then and there. (Fact: My parents swear that I have never thrown tantrums, just death glares which is infinitely more endurable.)
Grumbling, I walked to my apartment. It was only a 10 minute walk, but I let myself wear the cranky pants that had been collecting dust in the closet of mind. Once I was home though, a shower and some food fixed EVERYTHING. Ahhhh~ Then I passed out on the bed and slept the night away. ^_^
Later in the month, I have to work three 12-hour NIGHT shifts in a row. I'll be happy if I don't somehow end up in Ottawa after that.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
It was a sweet dream.
I told her exactly what I thought of her. A lengthy diatribe so exquisitely worded and delivered with such righteous contempt. She finally recognized herself for what she really was and I laughed in the face of her utter mortification. Oh, the satisfaction!
If the dream had ended with me judo chopping her face, it would have been DELICIOUS.
If the dream had ended with me judo chopping her face, it would have been DELICIOUS.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
At long last, overview of the psych placement.
I've been neglecting this blog a little bit. I could say it's because I was working pretty much full-time in May, but since then I've had a blessed break of 10 days. And although I am working full-time again (more on that later), it's in 12-hour shifts, which gives me lots of days off. So I hope to begin writing again more regularly during the summer.
I think I'll begin with a description of my 3.5 weeks clinical placement at the largest psychiatric hospital in Montreal, as a sort of catharsis. Oh...what can I say. The whole thing was poorly organized to begin with. For instance, no one could really tell me the goal of my particular unit until I actually got there and talked to my preceptor. And on the orientation day, me and three other students wandered around for 2 hours because no one told us where we were supposed to meet the prof, which led us to assume that we were expected to be in the main lobby. A rather obvious supposition, no? Unfortunately, the institute is composed of many buildings like a university campus and there's a special administration building where all such orientations take place. We would have known this if we had actually made it to the orientation!
My first day on the unit was fairly uneventful. I had expected patients to be confined to their rooms and was surprised to find that they were walking around so freely when I stepped off the elevator. Then I found out that they were mostly schizophrenic patients who were in programs to be moved back into the community eventually. Some never make it, most move out and then return in a matter of weeks and very few actually live outside for a longer period of time. It was a very lax environment compared to the medical/surgical units I'd been on. Staff breaks lasted 90 minutes or so. Most afternoons were spent gossiping or in the case of a student like myself, pretending to be busy reading articles while surreptitiously playing sudoku.
I hated it at first. The giant gap under the door of the smoking room made the whole unit smell like smoke and gave me throbbing headaches. Patients thought they could take advantage of me and push me around because I was new. The very first day, I went outside to wait for my friends so that we could have lunch bitch session in the sunshine. A man who was obviously an alcoholic sat down next to me and a very awkward half an hour followed during which I tried my best to use my therapeutic conversation techniques and he somehow took that as flirting. When he finally walked away, I bolted back to the main door, fumbling with my key like the clumsy main character in a horror movie. I vowed never to go outside by myself again.
It did eventually get better. I was allowed to participate more in the unit activities. I took over medications for all of my preceptor's patients in my first week, including bi-weekly IM injections. I conducted interviews with several patients on the unit even though I wasn't officially responsible for them. I took part in rounds and called hospitals and family members to get medical records that were missing. It was a hell of a lot better than what my friends were doing down in the Memory Clinic: MMSE day in, day out, some tai chi (YEAH) and computer programs designed to stimulate memory and learning. I shadowed in the memory clinic for one hour and it was deadly dull. They do mostly paperwork down there. I do want to have a clinic eventually, but I doubt my paperwork will be as absurdly pointless as theirs.
I also got more comfortable being around patients who could potentially have a psychotic episode at any given moment. The trick, I think, is being calm and firm. Most patients were on their medications, which meant that they were very unlikely to try and choke you out of the blue. Due to a panic button shortage, I ended up not having one for most of my stay there, which was admittedly dangerous when I think about it. But I was never very far from the nursing station and there was always a staff member nearby to step in or go get help.
There were two memorable incidents, which would have escalated into something very unpleasant if I hadn't gotten help immediately. The first involved a young male patient with a history of sexual harrassment and assault, which actually landed him in the unit via a court order. I was trying to get a patient to take her morning meds when I felt something brush past my butt. I looked up and the man was walking away from me. I couldn't decide if he was just walking by and accidentally touched me, but then why wouldn't he choose to walk between the other tables where there was a lot of space? I told my preceptor as soon as the patient took her medications and he brought it to everyone's attention during the morning report. Then there was a patient meeting with my preceptor, the unit coordinator, me and the patient in a smaller office. My preceptor basically came out and told the patient that he knew the patient did it on purpose. The patient didn't try to deny it and simply left the room.
My initial reaction was perturbation, I think. I was really hoping that the patient didn't do it on purpose, because the fact that someone could deliberately do that to me was very upsetting. And I couldn't retaliate in any other way, because he is sick (and mentally retarded). The court found him not responsible for his actions because of his illness and I completely understand that, but it still took a couple of days before I could give him his medication without feeling an underlying sense of dread. In a way, it was good that I had this kind of experience early on, because now I know to be more vigilant and I know what to do.
The second incident upset me much more. It was my second last day on the unit and I was giving morning medications to the same patient I was trying to convince in the first episode. She is a really sick lady. She's completely paranoid, delusional, irrational and sarcastic. She was apparently much better when she was on lithium, but it had to be stopped because she started having kidney problems. Anyway, there was nothing new that morning. She was mocking the way I spoke and was extremely annoyed that I was interrupting her breakfast, but I was used to her insults by that point. Then she started breaking one of her many many pills in half. I asked her what she was doing and she started screaming that she always took half the pill. I reminded her that she'd been taking the same pill every morning for a long time. That's when she showed me her fist and asked if I would like being punched in the face. Thankfully, a nurse stepped in at that point and I was allowed to leave the unit to regain my composure. I sat outside on a bench and cried. It was ridiculous. I shouldn't have taken it so personally because she was...well, there's no other word than "insane" really, but in that split second when she threatened to punch me, I was shocked. Angry, too. I have a terrible temper when pushed and if I hadn't been in a mental hospital, I probably would have screamed something like "What the fuck did you just say to me?" and flipped over a table or two. When I came back, there was a patient meeting with my preceptor, the nurse who helped me and the patient. After 10 minutes of reining in her absurd tangents and digressions, they finally got her to apologize to me with much reluctance. I doubt it actually got through to her that aggression is unacceptable towards anyone, because she's in such a haze of paranoid and persecutory delusions, but she did apologize. That was an improvement enough for me.
Of course, in a place like that, the bad stuff is always more memorable. But I like to think I have some nice memories to make up for them. The nurses and other staff are very nice, for one thing. They're no Nurse Ratchet, that's for sure. They get frustrated too, because some patients are so resistant to helping themselves and psychiatry isn't exactly known for its "cures", but they genuinely like working at the hospital and they try their best to help their patients. I'll remember all the advice they gave me for the rest of my career.
Important things I learned about psych:
1) Get a damn panic button and wear it.
2) Don't assume that the patients can think as rationally as you. But try to reorient them in the real world as much as possible.
3) They're really like children. They're either extremely well-behaved or frustrating like the devil.
4) Be nice, but let them know that you're not to be trifled with when they overstep boundaries.
5) Don't take anything personally and leave everything behind when you're done for the day.
Hmm...now that I've written it, it's a bit lacking in humour, no?
I think I'll begin with a description of my 3.5 weeks clinical placement at the largest psychiatric hospital in Montreal, as a sort of catharsis. Oh...what can I say. The whole thing was poorly organized to begin with. For instance, no one could really tell me the goal of my particular unit until I actually got there and talked to my preceptor. And on the orientation day, me and three other students wandered around for 2 hours because no one told us where we were supposed to meet the prof, which led us to assume that we were expected to be in the main lobby. A rather obvious supposition, no? Unfortunately, the institute is composed of many buildings like a university campus and there's a special administration building where all such orientations take place. We would have known this if we had actually made it to the orientation!
My first day on the unit was fairly uneventful. I had expected patients to be confined to their rooms and was surprised to find that they were walking around so freely when I stepped off the elevator. Then I found out that they were mostly schizophrenic patients who were in programs to be moved back into the community eventually. Some never make it, most move out and then return in a matter of weeks and very few actually live outside for a longer period of time. It was a very lax environment compared to the medical/surgical units I'd been on. Staff breaks lasted 90 minutes or so. Most afternoons were spent gossiping or in the case of a student like myself, pretending to be busy reading articles while surreptitiously playing sudoku.
I hated it at first. The giant gap under the door of the smoking room made the whole unit smell like smoke and gave me throbbing headaches. Patients thought they could take advantage of me and push me around because I was new. The very first day, I went outside to wait for my friends so that we could have lunch bitch session in the sunshine. A man who was obviously an alcoholic sat down next to me and a very awkward half an hour followed during which I tried my best to use my therapeutic conversation techniques and he somehow took that as flirting. When he finally walked away, I bolted back to the main door, fumbling with my key like the clumsy main character in a horror movie. I vowed never to go outside by myself again.
It did eventually get better. I was allowed to participate more in the unit activities. I took over medications for all of my preceptor's patients in my first week, including bi-weekly IM injections. I conducted interviews with several patients on the unit even though I wasn't officially responsible for them. I took part in rounds and called hospitals and family members to get medical records that were missing. It was a hell of a lot better than what my friends were doing down in the Memory Clinic: MMSE day in, day out, some tai chi (YEAH) and computer programs designed to stimulate memory and learning. I shadowed in the memory clinic for one hour and it was deadly dull. They do mostly paperwork down there. I do want to have a clinic eventually, but I doubt my paperwork will be as absurdly pointless as theirs.
I also got more comfortable being around patients who could potentially have a psychotic episode at any given moment. The trick, I think, is being calm and firm. Most patients were on their medications, which meant that they were very unlikely to try and choke you out of the blue. Due to a panic button shortage, I ended up not having one for most of my stay there, which was admittedly dangerous when I think about it. But I was never very far from the nursing station and there was always a staff member nearby to step in or go get help.
There were two memorable incidents, which would have escalated into something very unpleasant if I hadn't gotten help immediately. The first involved a young male patient with a history of sexual harrassment and assault, which actually landed him in the unit via a court order. I was trying to get a patient to take her morning meds when I felt something brush past my butt. I looked up and the man was walking away from me. I couldn't decide if he was just walking by and accidentally touched me, but then why wouldn't he choose to walk between the other tables where there was a lot of space? I told my preceptor as soon as the patient took her medications and he brought it to everyone's attention during the morning report. Then there was a patient meeting with my preceptor, the unit coordinator, me and the patient in a smaller office. My preceptor basically came out and told the patient that he knew the patient did it on purpose. The patient didn't try to deny it and simply left the room.
My initial reaction was perturbation, I think. I was really hoping that the patient didn't do it on purpose, because the fact that someone could deliberately do that to me was very upsetting. And I couldn't retaliate in any other way, because he is sick (and mentally retarded). The court found him not responsible for his actions because of his illness and I completely understand that, but it still took a couple of days before I could give him his medication without feeling an underlying sense of dread. In a way, it was good that I had this kind of experience early on, because now I know to be more vigilant and I know what to do.
The second incident upset me much more. It was my second last day on the unit and I was giving morning medications to the same patient I was trying to convince in the first episode. She is a really sick lady. She's completely paranoid, delusional, irrational and sarcastic. She was apparently much better when she was on lithium, but it had to be stopped because she started having kidney problems. Anyway, there was nothing new that morning. She was mocking the way I spoke and was extremely annoyed that I was interrupting her breakfast, but I was used to her insults by that point. Then she started breaking one of her many many pills in half. I asked her what she was doing and she started screaming that she always took half the pill. I reminded her that she'd been taking the same pill every morning for a long time. That's when she showed me her fist and asked if I would like being punched in the face. Thankfully, a nurse stepped in at that point and I was allowed to leave the unit to regain my composure. I sat outside on a bench and cried. It was ridiculous. I shouldn't have taken it so personally because she was...well, there's no other word than "insane" really, but in that split second when she threatened to punch me, I was shocked. Angry, too. I have a terrible temper when pushed and if I hadn't been in a mental hospital, I probably would have screamed something like "What the fuck did you just say to me?" and flipped over a table or two. When I came back, there was a patient meeting with my preceptor, the nurse who helped me and the patient. After 10 minutes of reining in her absurd tangents and digressions, they finally got her to apologize to me with much reluctance. I doubt it actually got through to her that aggression is unacceptable towards anyone, because she's in such a haze of paranoid and persecutory delusions, but she did apologize. That was an improvement enough for me.
Of course, in a place like that, the bad stuff is always more memorable. But I like to think I have some nice memories to make up for them. The nurses and other staff are very nice, for one thing. They're no Nurse Ratchet, that's for sure. They get frustrated too, because some patients are so resistant to helping themselves and psychiatry isn't exactly known for its "cures", but they genuinely like working at the hospital and they try their best to help their patients. I'll remember all the advice they gave me for the rest of my career.
Important things I learned about psych:
1) Get a damn panic button and wear it.
2) Don't assume that the patients can think as rationally as you. But try to reorient them in the real world as much as possible.
3) They're really like children. They're either extremely well-behaved or frustrating like the devil.
4) Be nice, but let them know that you're not to be trifled with when they overstep boundaries.
5) Don't take anything personally and leave everything behind when you're done for the day.
Hmm...now that I've written it, it's a bit lacking in humour, no?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
*blink blink*
That is correct. I am up at 2am on a Friday night, figuring out how to install and use the Japanese IME on my computer instead of sleeping like a normal person.
그렇소. 새벽 2시에 자기는 커녕 컴퓨터로 일어 쓰는 방법을 궁리하고 있소이다.
そうです。にじ、きんようび、にほんご、 バソコン、something something. I'm working on it.
그렇소. 새벽 2시에 자기는 커녕 컴퓨터로 일어 쓰는 방법을 궁리하고 있소이다.
そうです。にじ、きんようび、にほんご、 バソコン、something something. I'm working on it.
Monday, May 4, 2009
One year left.
I came back from Toronto last night after a blissful vacation of 10 days and found a one-year lease renewal form stuck on my door. My lease is up at the end of July and even though my original plan back in 2007 was to work in Montreal for awhile after graduation, I've been feeling rather homesick of late. Therefore, I'm planning on applying to a hospital in Toronto for my final internship next May. So I asked my landlady what I have to do if I want to leave before my lease is up next year and she told me that I shouldn't have too much trouble finding a tenant to sublet. That's fine with me.
I like my life in Montreal. My tiny studio apartment is crammed with my own stuff. Not quite perfect, given the small amount of space and lack of counters in the kitchen, but it's MINE. I cook when I want to, I leave the door open to the balcony and there's no one around to poke around my stuff. I find that I'm a lot neater now that I don't live with anyone. When I leave, I'll probably leave a lot of stuff behind, like the kitchen table where I usually toss books and keys and knick knacks rather than actually eat something. I'll leave behind my old crappy Ikea desk and dresser for sure. I'm kind of excited about the prospect of getting rid of this stuff, actually. Like shedding off the old things and becoming a more grown-up version of me. It's quite nice to think about.
I'll have to buy a new desk and everything else when I get back to Toronto, but it'll be okay. I'll get the ginormous dark-coloured desk of my dreams so I can spread books and papers all over it. It'll be freaking sweet.
I like my life in Montreal. My tiny studio apartment is crammed with my own stuff. Not quite perfect, given the small amount of space and lack of counters in the kitchen, but it's MINE. I cook when I want to, I leave the door open to the balcony and there's no one around to poke around my stuff. I find that I'm a lot neater now that I don't live with anyone. When I leave, I'll probably leave a lot of stuff behind, like the kitchen table where I usually toss books and keys and knick knacks rather than actually eat something. I'll leave behind my old crappy Ikea desk and dresser for sure. I'm kind of excited about the prospect of getting rid of this stuff, actually. Like shedding off the old things and becoming a more grown-up version of me. It's quite nice to think about.
I'll have to buy a new desk and everything else when I get back to Toronto, but it'll be okay. I'll get the ginormous dark-coloured desk of my dreams so I can spread books and papers all over it. It'll be freaking sweet.
Friday, March 20, 2009
My Ultimate Sacrifice...
...for people thinking about reading, watching or having anything whatsoever to do with "Hana Yori Dango" (Flowers over Boys).
I have read/watched many a stupid thing. After all, I am the person who actively sought out the animated LOTR movie, bought the DVD and watched it. TWICE. I've also read quite a few of Anne Rice's novels, which everyone will admit are not the pinnacle of literature.
But no, this cannot go on. I cannot understand the popularity of this terrible terrible series and to prevent poor innocents from stumbling across it like I did and suffering as a consequence, I will hereby write a synopsis.
First, an introduction: Hana Yori Dango is a Japanese manga which has been turned into an anime series and live action shows in Japan, Taiwan and Korea most recently. Apparently, it's horribly popular. Now, I've only read 4 complete manga series: Rose of Versailles, Kindaichi Case Files, Fruits Basket and this thing. So I'm not the greatest connoisseur of manga or anything like that, but I know what I like. And I don't like this. I hate it. I hate it SO MUCH.
Characters:
Girl in the middle (aka. Bloody Idiot): Main character of Hana Yori Dango. EVERYONE falls in love with her. EVERYONE. Why? What are her redeeming qualities? I know this is a shoujo, so girls are supposed to be able to insert themselves easily into the main character, but this girl has NOTHING going on. She punches and kicks people a lot, I guess. YEAH.
Guy on left with short blonde hair (aka. Aspergers Doofus): One of the F4, a group of 4 supposedly hot rich guys. Bloody Idiot falls in love with him in the beginning. Apparently, it's hinted that he has Aspergers syndrome? Whatever. I don't care enough to find out.
Guy on right with ridiculour reggae hair (aka. Sociopath): Leader of the F4. He's the main guy, who falls in love with Bloody Idiot and gets together with her at the end. Yeah, I ruined it for you. If you couldn't tell from the particular expression he has up there, then you need to read more manga.
Guys in the back (Mimbo 1 and Mimbo 2): Other two members of F4. They're rich playboys, yadda yadda, they're useless, flavourless and wholly uninteresting.
Synopsis:
Bloody Idiot goes to a rich kids' high school, even though her family's dirt poor. One day, she accidentally falls down the staircase and stomps on Sociopath's face. As payback, Sociopath puts a red tag in her locker, a declaration of war against her from the entire school (apparently being filthy rich gives you the right to do this).
So Bloody Idiot leads a miserable life getting egged and beaten up, but is determined to win. Meanwhile, she falls in love with Aspergers Doofus, who is in love with a childhood friend, who is not in love with anyone. Sociopath sees how plucky Bloody Idiot is and starts being interested in her (there's some sort of weird crush on his older sister that he's projecting onto Bloody Idiot or something). Random Girl 1 spreads around a rumour that Bloody Idiot is a hussy and Sociopath believes it for a bit, but then decides to rescue Bloody Idiot from a mob of students who is dragging her behind a car?
Seriously, what is this crap?
Anyhoo, Bloody Idiot gets rescued, Sociopath declares his love for the first time. And his hair's all straight, because he declares his love after a shower. The author of this sensational bit of retardedness tries to imply that he's at his most vulnerable when his hair is straight.
If I snorted any harder, my brain would shoot out of my nostrils.
Bloody Idiot can't decide whether she likes him or not, because if you remember, she's got a thing going for Aspergers Doofus. But Aspergers Doofus decides to fly to France to chase after the girl that he loves. So Bloody Idiot decides, hey, he's gone, might as well string Sociopath along.
Sociopath, contrary to his name, starts being ridiculously charming to Bloody Idiot and she starts to fall for him. But then Aspergers Doofus comes back from France because things didn't work out with his girl! They (Bloody Idiot and F4) go to Sociopath's vacation house by a beach someplace. Late at night, Bloody Idiot ends up kissing Aspergers Doofus on the beach. Sociopath gets super mad.
When they return home, Sociopath tries to get Bloody Idiot and Aspergers Doofus expelled from school by threatening to cut off his family's yearly donation. Sociopath's older sister stops this scheme and instead suggests a 3-on-3 basketball game to decide who wins.
[INSERT PEAL OF DERISIVE LAUGHTER HERE]
The night before the game, Sociopath declares his love for the second time. She hesitates, so he slams her into the wall and tries to kiss her. This is not the only incident of sexual assault in this manga. I was starting to think that this manga was specifically written for people who're into that kind of thing. Or the author has some major issues.
The next day, just as Sociopath's team is about to win, he decides that the game is stupid and leaves for New York. Meanwhile, Bloody Idiot and Aspergers Doofus break up because they decide that they'd rather be friends anyway. Sociopath discovers this when he's in New York and returns promptly. Once he returns, Sociopath and Bloody Idiot start going out. Or something. It's very vague, supposedly to add "tension" to the romance.
Sociopath decides that he's going to enter her into the Miss Teen Japan contest so that she can rise to his social status or something.
I...I'm just gonna sigh and continue writing. By the way, I'm at chapter 63 out of 241.
BLAH BLAH BLAH, by a total fluke, Bloody Idiot becomes Runner-up at the Miss Teen Japan contest. What a way to just skip over 10 chapters.
Sociopath decides that he wants to go to Canada and forces the rest of F4 and Bloody Idiot to come. Some spiteful girls tag along, because they don't want the F4 to be tainted by the poor people mannerisms of Bloody Idiot. I would have just disliked her because she's so dumb, not because she's poor.
For the love of heaven, Bloody Idiot, stop pointing out how fabulously rich Sociopath is! "Wow, look at this mansion! I guess he's that rich, huh." You've seen two of his other mansions, his yacht and his private island. SHUT UP.
They go to a chalet on the Rockies someplace and the spiteful cows trick Bloody Idiot into wandering out into a snowstorm at night. Sociopath goes out looking for her and carries her hypothermic ass into some abandoned cabin. After some ridiculous number of pages depicting manga-style sexual tension, they fall asleep.
They return to the chalet in the morning. Spiteful cows are kicked out. They all return home. Bloody Idiot is approached by the younger brother of an old school friend. He's a model? Anyway, it turns out that he was using her as bait to get to Sociopath, who beat up his friend in the past. Sociopath ends up in the hospital. That's what you get when you're a violent sociopath who constantly escapes justice because of your wealth, my friend.
Bloody Idiot is trying to decide whether she really likes Sociopath or not. Sociopath invites her to his birthday party where she meets his mother (Evil Bitch) for the first time. Evil Bitch insults her and Sociopath escapes from the party with Bloody Idiot.
Evil Bitch forces a surprise engagement on Sociopath with a girl from a super rich family (Random Girl 2). Random Girl 2 claims to have fallen in love with Sociopath and because he's all frustrated by the dumbassery of Bloody Idiot, he agrees to go out with her. Then he decides that no, he's really REALLY in love with Bloody Idiot, so he dumps Random Girl 2 and they break off their engagement. Bloody Idiot decides to fight against Evil Bitch, not because she has real feelings for Sociopath, but because she feels insulted and wants to win.
God...why...
Bloody Idiot's family becomes destitute and they go to the countryside, leaving her behind to finish school. Bloody Idiot has nowhere to stay, so she becomes a maid in Sociopath's mansion while Evil Bitch is away on business. His personal servant.
GOD. WHY...
Bloody Idiot tells him that she wants to go out with him. Happiness doesn't last long, obviously, because there are still 118 chapters left in this godawful piece of work. Evil Bitch decides to ruin the companies of Bloody Idiot's friends. Bloody Idiot says that she will stay away from Sociopath and Evil Bitch makes everything back the way it was. Bloody Idiot breaks up with Sociopath outside on the street in a thunderstorm (naturally the ideal setting for a manga breakup). But she doesn't tell him WHY she's doing it.
What a friggin' idiot.
Bloody Idiot runs away to her family in the countryside who's been mooching off their neighbours by telling them that Bloody Idiot was engaged to Sociopath. The idiocy runs in their whole family, evidently. She starts to work in a stand by the beach that sells corn on the cob. Aspergers Doofus happens to see her on TV after she's been missing for a week. He convinces Sociopath to come to the countryside with him and rescue Bloody Idiot from the squalor.
Sociopath and Aspergers Doofus help Bloody Idiot's family move back to Tokyo. The family is more grating than every other character in this fricking thing.
Sociopath is still mad at Bloody Idiot, so she goes for a set-up party with her friends. She meets a Sociopath lookalike (Creepy Bugger), who says that he's Sociopath's cousin. It turns out that Creepy Bugger was just some random guy who was hired by Evil Bitch to seduce Bloody Idiot away from Sociopath. In the end, Crazy Bugger helps Bloody Idiot by pretending to Evil Bitch that he succeeded. Bloody Idiot and Sociopath get back together.
Evil Bitch eventually finds out and forces Sociopath to move to New York. Bloody Idiot chases after Sociopath and finds his house with some random people's help. Evil Bitch invites her in. Bloody idiot declares her love for him (after almost 200 chapters), but Sociopath rejects her coldly. Bloody Idiot leaves and finds Aspergers Doofus who came to New York to help her just in case. While wandering around New York, Bloody Idiot helps out a man who turns out to be in the middle of a business deal with Evil Bitch. Bloody Idiot saves Evil Bitch's business deal. To pay her back, Evil Bitch allows Sociopath to meet Bloody Idiot at the airport before she flies back to Japan with Aspergers Doofus. Aspergers Doofus punches Sociopath.
Bloody Idiot returns to Japan with Aspergers Doofus. Sociopath shows up randomly at her house. It's revealed that Evil Bitch granted Sociopath complete freedom for 2 years if he dumps Bloody Idiot. That makes a whole ton of sense, alright. They are kidnapped by some shady men and put on a deserted yacht that's on autopilot. They end up on a deserted island but find out the next day that Mimbo 1 and Mimbo 2 planned it all along and it's actually an island that's being developed as a resort. Bloody Idiot and Sociopath reaffirm their love.
Okay, only 30 chapters left.
As they're getting off the boat on their way back home, some random guy stabs Sociopath. He ends up in the hospital and almost dies on the operating table. When he wakes up, he has no memory of Bloody Idiot.
Amnesia? HONESTLY? This is the height of retardation, right here.
Another patient at the hospital (Random Girl 3) moves in on him and tries to convince him that there's no point trying to remember the past. Instead of kicking her ass, as is her normal reaction to things, Bloody Idiot becomes depressed and decides to give up on Sociopath. She visits Sociopath's house and throws a baseball (a souvenir from a date) at his head in frustration. A few days later, Sociopath shows up at her house because the baseball restored his memory.
Woopdewoop, they're in love.
When Sociopath's father falls ill, he has to take responsibility for the family business so he decides that he has to go to New York. For FOUR GODDAMN YEARS. He promises to come back for her.
They go off to an island resort by themselves. Bloody Idiot falls into the pool. She has a bath afterwards. Later during an intimate moment, Bloody Idiot develops a fever (manga characters are genetically predisposed to developing fevers at the drop of a hat) and the two bleeding bloody idiot characters remain chaste.
Sociopath flies to New York after prom and Bloody Idiot will wait for him for the next four years. I don't understand what the big deal is. He's super rich. He has a private plane. It's not like he can't fly back once in awhile or fly her to New York once in awhile.
Did I mention that all of this happens when she's in grade 11 and he's in grade 12? They're high school kids. They're idiots! Everyone is at that age!
DUMBEST MANGA EVER. So don't read it.
I have read/watched many a stupid thing. After all, I am the person who actively sought out the animated LOTR movie, bought the DVD and watched it. TWICE. I've also read quite a few of Anne Rice's novels, which everyone will admit are not the pinnacle of literature.
But no, this cannot go on. I cannot understand the popularity of this terrible terrible series and to prevent poor innocents from stumbling across it like I did and suffering as a consequence, I will hereby write a synopsis.
First, an introduction: Hana Yori Dango is a Japanese manga which has been turned into an anime series and live action shows in Japan, Taiwan and Korea most recently. Apparently, it's horribly popular. Now, I've only read 4 complete manga series: Rose of Versailles, Kindaichi Case Files, Fruits Basket and this thing. So I'm not the greatest connoisseur of manga or anything like that, but I know what I like. And I don't like this. I hate it. I hate it SO MUCH.
Characters:
Girl in the middle (aka. Bloody Idiot): Main character of Hana Yori Dango. EVERYONE falls in love with her. EVERYONE. Why? What are her redeeming qualities? I know this is a shoujo, so girls are supposed to be able to insert themselves easily into the main character, but this girl has NOTHING going on. She punches and kicks people a lot, I guess. YEAH.Guy on left with short blonde hair (aka. Aspergers Doofus): One of the F4, a group of 4 supposedly hot rich guys. Bloody Idiot falls in love with him in the beginning. Apparently, it's hinted that he has Aspergers syndrome? Whatever. I don't care enough to find out.
Guy on right with ridiculour reggae hair (aka. Sociopath): Leader of the F4. He's the main guy, who falls in love with Bloody Idiot and gets together with her at the end. Yeah, I ruined it for you. If you couldn't tell from the particular expression he has up there, then you need to read more manga.
Guys in the back (Mimbo 1 and Mimbo 2): Other two members of F4. They're rich playboys, yadda yadda, they're useless, flavourless and wholly uninteresting.
Synopsis:
Bloody Idiot goes to a rich kids' high school, even though her family's dirt poor. One day, she accidentally falls down the staircase and stomps on Sociopath's face. As payback, Sociopath puts a red tag in her locker, a declaration of war against her from the entire school (apparently being filthy rich gives you the right to do this).
So Bloody Idiot leads a miserable life getting egged and beaten up, but is determined to win. Meanwhile, she falls in love with Aspergers Doofus, who is in love with a childhood friend, who is not in love with anyone. Sociopath sees how plucky Bloody Idiot is and starts being interested in her (there's some sort of weird crush on his older sister that he's projecting onto Bloody Idiot or something). Random Girl 1 spreads around a rumour that Bloody Idiot is a hussy and Sociopath believes it for a bit, but then decides to rescue Bloody Idiot from a mob of students who is dragging her behind a car?
Seriously, what is this crap?
Anyhoo, Bloody Idiot gets rescued, Sociopath declares his love for the first time. And his hair's all straight, because he declares his love after a shower. The author of this sensational bit of retardedness tries to imply that he's at his most vulnerable when his hair is straight.
If I snorted any harder, my brain would shoot out of my nostrils.
Bloody Idiot can't decide whether she likes him or not, because if you remember, she's got a thing going for Aspergers Doofus. But Aspergers Doofus decides to fly to France to chase after the girl that he loves. So Bloody Idiot decides, hey, he's gone, might as well string Sociopath along.
Sociopath, contrary to his name, starts being ridiculously charming to Bloody Idiot and she starts to fall for him. But then Aspergers Doofus comes back from France because things didn't work out with his girl! They (Bloody Idiot and F4) go to Sociopath's vacation house by a beach someplace. Late at night, Bloody Idiot ends up kissing Aspergers Doofus on the beach. Sociopath gets super mad.
When they return home, Sociopath tries to get Bloody Idiot and Aspergers Doofus expelled from school by threatening to cut off his family's yearly donation. Sociopath's older sister stops this scheme and instead suggests a 3-on-3 basketball game to decide who wins.
[INSERT PEAL OF DERISIVE LAUGHTER HERE]
The night before the game, Sociopath declares his love for the second time. She hesitates, so he slams her into the wall and tries to kiss her. This is not the only incident of sexual assault in this manga. I was starting to think that this manga was specifically written for people who're into that kind of thing. Or the author has some major issues.
The next day, just as Sociopath's team is about to win, he decides that the game is stupid and leaves for New York. Meanwhile, Bloody Idiot and Aspergers Doofus break up because they decide that they'd rather be friends anyway. Sociopath discovers this when he's in New York and returns promptly. Once he returns, Sociopath and Bloody Idiot start going out. Or something. It's very vague, supposedly to add "tension" to the romance.
Sociopath decides that he's going to enter her into the Miss Teen Japan contest so that she can rise to his social status or something.
I...I'm just gonna sigh and continue writing. By the way, I'm at chapter 63 out of 241.
BLAH BLAH BLAH, by a total fluke, Bloody Idiot becomes Runner-up at the Miss Teen Japan contest. What a way to just skip over 10 chapters.
Sociopath decides that he wants to go to Canada and forces the rest of F4 and Bloody Idiot to come. Some spiteful girls tag along, because they don't want the F4 to be tainted by the poor people mannerisms of Bloody Idiot. I would have just disliked her because she's so dumb, not because she's poor.
For the love of heaven, Bloody Idiot, stop pointing out how fabulously rich Sociopath is! "Wow, look at this mansion! I guess he's that rich, huh." You've seen two of his other mansions, his yacht and his private island. SHUT UP.
They go to a chalet on the Rockies someplace and the spiteful cows trick Bloody Idiot into wandering out into a snowstorm at night. Sociopath goes out looking for her and carries her hypothermic ass into some abandoned cabin. After some ridiculous number of pages depicting manga-style sexual tension, they fall asleep.
They return to the chalet in the morning. Spiteful cows are kicked out. They all return home. Bloody Idiot is approached by the younger brother of an old school friend. He's a model? Anyway, it turns out that he was using her as bait to get to Sociopath, who beat up his friend in the past. Sociopath ends up in the hospital. That's what you get when you're a violent sociopath who constantly escapes justice because of your wealth, my friend.
Bloody Idiot is trying to decide whether she really likes Sociopath or not. Sociopath invites her to his birthday party where she meets his mother (Evil Bitch) for the first time. Evil Bitch insults her and Sociopath escapes from the party with Bloody Idiot.
Evil Bitch forces a surprise engagement on Sociopath with a girl from a super rich family (Random Girl 2). Random Girl 2 claims to have fallen in love with Sociopath and because he's all frustrated by the dumbassery of Bloody Idiot, he agrees to go out with her. Then he decides that no, he's really REALLY in love with Bloody Idiot, so he dumps Random Girl 2 and they break off their engagement. Bloody Idiot decides to fight against Evil Bitch, not because she has real feelings for Sociopath, but because she feels insulted and wants to win.
God...why...
Bloody Idiot's family becomes destitute and they go to the countryside, leaving her behind to finish school. Bloody Idiot has nowhere to stay, so she becomes a maid in Sociopath's mansion while Evil Bitch is away on business. His personal servant.
GOD. WHY...
Bloody Idiot tells him that she wants to go out with him. Happiness doesn't last long, obviously, because there are still 118 chapters left in this godawful piece of work. Evil Bitch decides to ruin the companies of Bloody Idiot's friends. Bloody Idiot says that she will stay away from Sociopath and Evil Bitch makes everything back the way it was. Bloody Idiot breaks up with Sociopath outside on the street in a thunderstorm (naturally the ideal setting for a manga breakup). But she doesn't tell him WHY she's doing it.
What a friggin' idiot.
Bloody Idiot runs away to her family in the countryside who's been mooching off their neighbours by telling them that Bloody Idiot was engaged to Sociopath. The idiocy runs in their whole family, evidently. She starts to work in a stand by the beach that sells corn on the cob. Aspergers Doofus happens to see her on TV after she's been missing for a week. He convinces Sociopath to come to the countryside with him and rescue Bloody Idiot from the squalor.
Sociopath and Aspergers Doofus help Bloody Idiot's family move back to Tokyo. The family is more grating than every other character in this fricking thing.
Sociopath is still mad at Bloody Idiot, so she goes for a set-up party with her friends. She meets a Sociopath lookalike (Creepy Bugger), who says that he's Sociopath's cousin. It turns out that Creepy Bugger was just some random guy who was hired by Evil Bitch to seduce Bloody Idiot away from Sociopath. In the end, Crazy Bugger helps Bloody Idiot by pretending to Evil Bitch that he succeeded. Bloody Idiot and Sociopath get back together.
Evil Bitch eventually finds out and forces Sociopath to move to New York. Bloody Idiot chases after Sociopath and finds his house with some random people's help. Evil Bitch invites her in. Bloody idiot declares her love for him (after almost 200 chapters), but Sociopath rejects her coldly. Bloody Idiot leaves and finds Aspergers Doofus who came to New York to help her just in case. While wandering around New York, Bloody Idiot helps out a man who turns out to be in the middle of a business deal with Evil Bitch. Bloody Idiot saves Evil Bitch's business deal. To pay her back, Evil Bitch allows Sociopath to meet Bloody Idiot at the airport before she flies back to Japan with Aspergers Doofus. Aspergers Doofus punches Sociopath.
Bloody Idiot returns to Japan with Aspergers Doofus. Sociopath shows up randomly at her house. It's revealed that Evil Bitch granted Sociopath complete freedom for 2 years if he dumps Bloody Idiot. That makes a whole ton of sense, alright. They are kidnapped by some shady men and put on a deserted yacht that's on autopilot. They end up on a deserted island but find out the next day that Mimbo 1 and Mimbo 2 planned it all along and it's actually an island that's being developed as a resort. Bloody Idiot and Sociopath reaffirm their love.
Okay, only 30 chapters left.
As they're getting off the boat on their way back home, some random guy stabs Sociopath. He ends up in the hospital and almost dies on the operating table. When he wakes up, he has no memory of Bloody Idiot.
Amnesia? HONESTLY? This is the height of retardation, right here.
Another patient at the hospital (Random Girl 3) moves in on him and tries to convince him that there's no point trying to remember the past. Instead of kicking her ass, as is her normal reaction to things, Bloody Idiot becomes depressed and decides to give up on Sociopath. She visits Sociopath's house and throws a baseball (a souvenir from a date) at his head in frustration. A few days later, Sociopath shows up at her house because the baseball restored his memory.
Woopdewoop, they're in love.
When Sociopath's father falls ill, he has to take responsibility for the family business so he decides that he has to go to New York. For FOUR GODDAMN YEARS. He promises to come back for her.
They go off to an island resort by themselves. Bloody Idiot falls into the pool. She has a bath afterwards. Later during an intimate moment, Bloody Idiot develops a fever (manga characters are genetically predisposed to developing fevers at the drop of a hat) and the two bleeding bloody idiot characters remain chaste.
Sociopath flies to New York after prom and Bloody Idiot will wait for him for the next four years. I don't understand what the big deal is. He's super rich. He has a private plane. It's not like he can't fly back once in awhile or fly her to New York once in awhile.
Did I mention that all of this happens when she's in grade 11 and he's in grade 12? They're high school kids. They're idiots! Everyone is at that age!
DUMBEST MANGA EVER. So don't read it.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Impossible Task
Many said it could not be done.
E'en giants, boasting of their height and strength shook their heads at the thought. But lo, four heroes of unquenchable pluck and boundless energy (on a Sunday night, no less!) have moved the immovable! The behemoth of the family room is now in its final resting spot in the basement and there it shall stay forevermore. Unless you hire professional movers, because I certainly won't be attempting a move AGAINST gravity.
This is a monument to their courage and commitment which led them to attempt the impossible during the time they could have spent playing Rock Band. Listen and you will hear their victorious cry: "In your face, Jerome!"
See the record of our triumph.
E'en giants, boasting of their height and strength shook their heads at the thought. But lo, four heroes of unquenchable pluck and boundless energy (on a Sunday night, no less!) have moved the immovable! The behemoth of the family room is now in its final resting spot in the basement and there it shall stay forevermore. Unless you hire professional movers, because I certainly won't be attempting a move AGAINST gravity.
This is a monument to their courage and commitment which led them to attempt the impossible during the time they could have spent playing Rock Band. Listen and you will hear their victorious cry: "In your face, Jerome!"
See the record of our triumph.
I am a carcoleptic.
Wow, that actually sounds quite serious than it actually is.
I found this in the Sunday Star, in the section where they list a bunch of newly invented words. This is me...exactly. If I really really focus, I can stay awake, but the drive between Toronto and Montreal is ridonculously long. Once we hit a highway, it's like I've taken a dose of Nyquil or something. ^_^;;
At least I always feel bad about it and apologize!
I found this in the Sunday Star, in the section where they list a bunch of newly invented words. This is me...exactly. If I really really focus, I can stay awake, but the drive between Toronto and Montreal is ridonculously long. Once we hit a highway, it's like I've taken a dose of Nyquil or something. ^_^;;
At least I always feel bad about it and apologize!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Cooking Attempts 30~32: Cream of Carrot Soup, Shoyu Ramen and Potato Salad
I'm putting these dishes together, because I basically copied the recipe online. I just love looking at pictures of food. I could watch the Food Network all day, I swear. Except when they have a zillion barbeque shows in a row, because it's boring, the hosts (usually men) are always half-shouting at the camera and they never ever wear gloves when they're handling the meat.
Cream of Carrot Soup
This is basically a reworking of the smoky potato and broccoli soup I made in October. I love love LOVE the warm orange colour. I also like to add a ton of pepper just before I eat it. Mmm~
Shoyu Ramen
This is soy sauce flavoured ramen that I made from scratch! I think Korean instant ramen is the best, but if you want authentic ramen, it's Japanese all the way.
Potato Salad
I didn't use red potatoes like it says in the recipe, but it was still yummy. Red or yellow, you still get the potassium in the skin. Go go, potassium!
Cream of Carrot Soup
This is basically a reworking of the smoky potato and broccoli soup I made in October. I love love LOVE the warm orange colour. I also like to add a ton of pepper just before I eat it. Mmm~
Shoyu Ramen
This is soy sauce flavoured ramen that I made from scratch! I think Korean instant ramen is the best, but if you want authentic ramen, it's Japanese all the way.
Potato Salad
I didn't use red potatoes like it says in the recipe, but it was still yummy. Red or yellow, you still get the potassium in the skin. Go go, potassium!
Cooking Attempt #29: Sushi Pizza
Actually, it's smoked salmon pizza, but I got the idea at a restaurant near Vaughan Mills that Robert and I went to some time ago. It was my first time having salmon sushi pizza and I've wanted to try making it ever since.
Ingredients:
rice
soy sauce
130g package of smoked salmon
1 tbsp mayo
1 tbsp wasabi
1 tsp vinegar
chopped green onion
I looked around on the web to find the best way to make the crispy rice crust. The one that seemed the most plausible was to brush the rice with soy sauce and then pan fry it. First I lined a small circular tupperware with saran wrap. Then I scooped some cooked rice into it and squashed it down to make a nice thin patty (less than 1cm thick). The saran wrap made it easy for me to pop out of the mold. The best way to cook it is to brush one side with soy sauce, but not too much that it starts to fall apart. You can brush the other side with soy sauce while it's frying in the pan. I cooked it for about 5 minutes on both sides until it was a nice brown. It worked well, but I think the crust at the restaurant was crispier. Almost like tempura. I'm going to have to try it again in Toronto. This is the hardest part, really.
This is the nicest one, don't you think?
I cut the sliced smoked salmon into smaller bite-size pieces and mixed the mayo, wasabi and vinegar together. I spread the salmon on the crust, drizzled the sauce and sprinkled the green onion on top. Voilà! You could also add sliced avocadoes, but I'm not a big fan.
Doesn't it look pretty good for a first try? I'm taking the prettier ones to the hospital tomorrow for lunch.
Ingredients:
rice
soy sauce
130g package of smoked salmon
1 tbsp mayo
1 tbsp wasabi
1 tsp vinegar
chopped green onion
I looked around on the web to find the best way to make the crispy rice crust. The one that seemed the most plausible was to brush the rice with soy sauce and then pan fry it. First I lined a small circular tupperware with saran wrap. Then I scooped some cooked rice into it and squashed it down to make a nice thin patty (less than 1cm thick). The saran wrap made it easy for me to pop out of the mold. The best way to cook it is to brush one side with soy sauce, but not too much that it starts to fall apart. You can brush the other side with soy sauce while it's frying in the pan. I cooked it for about 5 minutes on both sides until it was a nice brown. It worked well, but I think the crust at the restaurant was crispier. Almost like tempura. I'm going to have to try it again in Toronto. This is the hardest part, really.
This is the nicest one, don't you think?I cut the sliced smoked salmon into smaller bite-size pieces and mixed the mayo, wasabi and vinegar together. I spread the salmon on the crust, drizzled the sauce and sprinkled the green onion on top. Voilà! You could also add sliced avocadoes, but I'm not a big fan.
Doesn't it look pretty good for a first try? I'm taking the prettier ones to the hospital tomorrow for lunch.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
When you give blood, don't tell your nurse that you're a nursing student.
On a whim, I decided to go with a friend to a Hema-Québec clinic at school. I haven't donated blood in awhile, because they always ask at the Canadian Blood Society if you've donated in Quebec and it makes me paranoid somehow that they won't let me donate if I have. Plus, I have my super favourite CBS clinic at Hillcrest. Clean, bright, not too crowded and the best cookie selections. Having been multiple times to clinics at Westmount, U of T, TD Centre, College Street and Sheppard, I consider myself something of a connoisseur.
They do things a bit differently here. Instead of checking your blood for hemoglobin levels right after they ask about your address and phone number (so that they can tell you immediately whether you're eligible or not), they make you wait for ages until you're in the booth with a nurse. For someone who tends to have hemoglobin levels *just* below the required level from time to time, this is worth nitpicking.
I was watching my nurse as she was about to insert the needle into my vein. She said, "You're going to watch?" I said, "Yes, I'm a nursing student, so I want to learn." This made her, a nurse with 10 years of experience, nervous enough that she went through the vein to the other side. Perhaps at this point, I should have looked away, but I couldn't. I watched as she pulled the needle out ever so slowly back into the vein. Even then, it took awhile for the blood to flow properly and they'd only gotten 250mL (out of 450mL) by the time the vein stopped being good. This has happened only once before and that time, the only thing left to do was getting blood cultures, so they used a smaller needle on my other arm.
My point is, this is a nurse with 10 years of experience who gets nervous just because I'm watching her. What's going to happen to me when I have to do this with my patients while my teacher watches? Anyone who's seen me play video games knows that I get very squealy when monsters/zombies/enemy soldiers/a particularly difficult section in Rock Band appear. But I like to think that when it comes to something really serious, I'm steady under pressure.
God, I hope so.
They do things a bit differently here. Instead of checking your blood for hemoglobin levels right after they ask about your address and phone number (so that they can tell you immediately whether you're eligible or not), they make you wait for ages until you're in the booth with a nurse. For someone who tends to have hemoglobin levels *just* below the required level from time to time, this is worth nitpicking.
I was watching my nurse as she was about to insert the needle into my vein. She said, "You're going to watch?" I said, "Yes, I'm a nursing student, so I want to learn." This made her, a nurse with 10 years of experience, nervous enough that she went through the vein to the other side. Perhaps at this point, I should have looked away, but I couldn't. I watched as she pulled the needle out ever so slowly back into the vein. Even then, it took awhile for the blood to flow properly and they'd only gotten 250mL (out of 450mL) by the time the vein stopped being good. This has happened only once before and that time, the only thing left to do was getting blood cultures, so they used a smaller needle on my other arm.
My point is, this is a nurse with 10 years of experience who gets nervous just because I'm watching her. What's going to happen to me when I have to do this with my patients while my teacher watches? Anyone who's seen me play video games knows that I get very squealy when monsters/zombies/enemy soldiers/a particularly difficult section in Rock Band appear. But I like to think that when it comes to something really serious, I'm steady under pressure.
God, I hope so.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I am a professional. Do not try this at home.
I did a sternal rub on myself. OUCH. OW, dammit.
Since I am going to be working at the Neuro, I've been reviewing neurovital signs and level of consciousness (LOC) assessments. If a client can't be aroused by calling their name softly, shouting or even shaking, the next step is to cause pain. A sternal rub is when you take your fist and knead your knuckles firmly into one's sternum for 15 to 30 seconds. This causes severe pain and may result in bruising. Don't try it. I know you want to, but don't do it.
Why did I do a sternal rub on myself? Because I wanted to know if it really hurt. Why I couldn't just trust the various textbooks, videos and lectures that all tell me that it's painful and causes the maximum response in everyone, I'll never know. I am, after all, the same person who headbutted my brother to see if it would hurt. But I've learned my lesson now, so I won't be trying a trapezius pinch or periorbital pressure on myself.
By the way, I totally wrote the sternal rub instructions up there so that you would all try it on yourselves. MOOAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, the delicious evility!
Since I am going to be working at the Neuro, I've been reviewing neurovital signs and level of consciousness (LOC) assessments. If a client can't be aroused by calling their name softly, shouting or even shaking, the next step is to cause pain. A sternal rub is when you take your fist and knead your knuckles firmly into one's sternum for 15 to 30 seconds. This causes severe pain and may result in bruising. Don't try it. I know you want to, but don't do it.
Why did I do a sternal rub on myself? Because I wanted to know if it really hurt. Why I couldn't just trust the various textbooks, videos and lectures that all tell me that it's painful and causes the maximum response in everyone, I'll never know. I am, after all, the same person who headbutted my brother to see if it would hurt. But I've learned my lesson now, so I won't be trying a trapezius pinch or periorbital pressure on myself.
By the way, I totally wrote the sternal rub instructions up there so that you would all try it on yourselves. MOOAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, the delicious evility!
Monday, January 12, 2009
I'm not yet in my late 20s!
Birthdays are not a big deal with my family. I mean, look at my parents. They left for Panama early this morning for two weeks. Yes, they called last night to wish me a happy birthday and then they were off to warmer climes! Lucky lucky bums.
My 26th birthday began with the alarm ringing at 7 in the morning to wake me up for my first day at the Montreal Neurological Institute. Awesome. I must say that I'm feeling very lucky in all of my clinical placements so far (well, except for Maimonides). They're always easy to access (again, except for Maimonides) and they're very pleasant places to work once you become familiar with the environment. The MNI is about a 15-minute walk from my apartment, which is SO nice. It's a bit uphill, but it means I can sleep in a bit more on these cold cold mornings.
Do you remember the Heritage Minute commercials on TV? I don't think they play them on TV much anymore, but I loved watching them. Especially the one about the first female doctors in Canada. Mrs. Trout (what a name!) ripping the piece of paper from the anatomical drawing of naked male and throwing it to the ground.
Anyway, I mention them, because Dr. Penfield, who built the MNI, has his own Heritage Minute.
I was able to watch a brain surgery for 45 minutes in the very same operating room theatre where Dr. Penfield did his seizure surgeries. Hundreds of doctors from all over the world watched him work in that theatre! It was great. We arrived in the OR theatre just as they were pulling off the scalp after a bifrontal incision (from ear to ear above the forehead). We could see the skull! The surgeon started drilling two holes down to the dura layer. Bits of bone started flying everywhere and the surgeon started putting something called bone wax into the holes using his fingers. This is when I started to clutch my face in awe. I'm not very squeamish and then only time I ever felt faint was when I cut my finger with a serrated knife. Then the surgeon started using a punch to chip away at the hole to make it bigger. Hooah.
I'll be starting my clinical course on the surgical floor on Wednesday and I'll get a chance later in the term to see a surgery from start to finish in the OR. I'm very excited.
The nursing girls in my group kept asking what I was going to do for my birthday, which was kind of embarrassing, considering that I don't like to make a big deal out of it. It's not because I am no longer 22 (what I have randomly decided to be the best age in young adulthood) and slowly feel the grip of adult responsibilities on my shoulder. It's just a day! I have also just remembered that Koreans turn a year older automatically on New Year's. So when Koreans ask each other how old they are, the age they give is usually one more than their real age. Then they also give their real age ("mahn"). So right now, my New Year age and my real age match up. But my brother is 22 and mahn 21. Get it? That was a bit of digression.
So what did I do on my birthday?
I came home, took a nap, had some lovely mangoes to celebrate and got nice phone calls from friends and Facebook congratulations. ^_^
Also, happy 26th birthday to my Birthday Buddy, Brenda!
My 26th birthday began with the alarm ringing at 7 in the morning to wake me up for my first day at the Montreal Neurological Institute. Awesome. I must say that I'm feeling very lucky in all of my clinical placements so far (well, except for Maimonides). They're always easy to access (again, except for Maimonides) and they're very pleasant places to work once you become familiar with the environment. The MNI is about a 15-minute walk from my apartment, which is SO nice. It's a bit uphill, but it means I can sleep in a bit more on these cold cold mornings.
Do you remember the Heritage Minute commercials on TV? I don't think they play them on TV much anymore, but I loved watching them. Especially the one about the first female doctors in Canada. Mrs. Trout (what a name!) ripping the piece of paper from the anatomical drawing of naked male and throwing it to the ground.
Anyway, I mention them, because Dr. Penfield, who built the MNI, has his own Heritage Minute.
I was able to watch a brain surgery for 45 minutes in the very same operating room theatre where Dr. Penfield did his seizure surgeries. Hundreds of doctors from all over the world watched him work in that theatre! It was great. We arrived in the OR theatre just as they were pulling off the scalp after a bifrontal incision (from ear to ear above the forehead). We could see the skull! The surgeon started drilling two holes down to the dura layer. Bits of bone started flying everywhere and the surgeon started putting something called bone wax into the holes using his fingers. This is when I started to clutch my face in awe. I'm not very squeamish and then only time I ever felt faint was when I cut my finger with a serrated knife. Then the surgeon started using a punch to chip away at the hole to make it bigger. Hooah.
I'll be starting my clinical course on the surgical floor on Wednesday and I'll get a chance later in the term to see a surgery from start to finish in the OR. I'm very excited.
The nursing girls in my group kept asking what I was going to do for my birthday, which was kind of embarrassing, considering that I don't like to make a big deal out of it. It's not because I am no longer 22 (what I have randomly decided to be the best age in young adulthood) and slowly feel the grip of adult responsibilities on my shoulder. It's just a day! I have also just remembered that Koreans turn a year older automatically on New Year's. So when Koreans ask each other how old they are, the age they give is usually one more than their real age. Then they also give their real age ("mahn"). So right now, my New Year age and my real age match up. But my brother is 22 and mahn 21. Get it? That was a bit of digression.
So what did I do on my birthday?
I came home, took a nap, had some lovely mangoes to celebrate and got nice phone calls from friends and Facebook congratulations. ^_^
Also, happy 26th birthday to my Birthday Buddy, Brenda!
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