Saturday, September 26, 2009

Bits and Pieces

I passed my physical assessment check-off this past week. Score! Even with a male partner. Even with me freaking out and my heart going a million miles a minute (actually, it was 108 bpm). We have our second exam this week and our dosage calculations exam (pass/fail...must make 100% on this to pass) next week. I think they might be trying to kill us. On the brighter side, I will be learning how to give shots this week. They are actually going to trust me with a shape object. How crazy is that?!?
I love Hulu. Seriously. I don't ever have time to watch TV shows during the week. I am either too busy studying or too tired to remember when they come on. Now I can watch Mercy, Bones, and Flashforward whenever I take a study break. Awesome.
I have Lady GaGa's "Paparazzi" stuck in my head, I just watched the video on Youtube and I just have one question...Are those 3 blond guys the same ones from Daisy of Love?


Talk Nerdy To Me


Monday, September 21, 2009

Book Club

I never did tell ya'll that I read White Oleander by Janet Fitch over the course of two days.
Seriously. It was great. Parts of it were a little melodramatic but over all, I loved it.
I should probably be careful because this was the second Oprah book club book I have read that I really likes (the first was the Poisonwood Bible). Next thing you know, I will be wearing pink sweaters and yo-yo dieting.


After lecture today, my clinical instructor called us into the hall and gave us the times we would be doing our physical assessment check-off as well as the name of our partner. The program coordinator had said that girls would be paired with girls and guys with guys.
No true.
My partner is a guy I have known for about a year now. We were in A&P2 together and he is super smart. I don't know which worries me more: the fact that he will see way more of me than I want him to (and probably more than he wants to see) or how stupid I will look in comparison to him.
I don't think I will have a problem with doing physical assessments on actual patients but on my classmates? I have to see them the next day!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Catching a Quickie

I don't have enough energy for a real up date so here goes:
  • I passed my first nursing exam. 83.6%. It's not an A (it's actually a high C....weird grading scale) but I'll take it.
  • I also passed my vital signs check-off. What out world! I can take your blood pressure and your resperation rate! (I also know that your O2 sats. should be >90% on room air).
  • Care plans are the work of the devil.
  • The workers at the Barnes and Noble at Perkins Rowe are not very helpful...or friendly. Maybe it's just the way they are but, no matter, I won't buy from there again.
  • My usually 3.5 hours of sleep a night just isn't cutting it any more.
  • There are a few of my classmates that I am absolutely in love with...and a few I'd much rather to have never met. More on that later. :)

Sunday, September 06, 2009

A Poetic Attempt at Self-Expression

Somedays I feel like the moon...waning and waxing in the sky.
Some nights, I'm full. I'm hard not to notice...full of personality and light (stolen from the sun, of course, but why ruin a good thing?).
But some nights, I am simply a shadow, a dark spot that blocks out the stars.

In other words, I have been feeling so goddamn bipolar lately. This shit fucking sucks.

Why I Won't Be Makin' Any Babies

I am not having children.
It is not my feminist declaration nor is it a political statement about the importance of population control.
I simply think that I would be an awful mother.
When I imagine all the ways it could be, it starts so lovely. A beautiful child...maybe a girl...with dirty blond hair and eyes like emeralds with a quiet curiosity about everything. She'll be smart...but what parent has ever thought of their child as average or even *gasp* anything other than an Einstein in the making. She'll be articulate, even at a young age, and charming. But she would also have empathy. She would see something that was wrong and want to fix it...she might grow up to become an environmental activist or a advocate for human rights.
I suppose this is the first problem in my "plan."
Children don't grow up to be what you want them to be. I can't pick what personality traits they have or what flaws of mine they inherit. What if I have a child and he or she inherits my nose, or abundance of earwax or my cornucopia of mental neurosis? Would I love my child any less if, instead of the new unique life I wanted to create, I ended up with just a tiny version of me?
I think this is my second fear.
What if I don't love my child?
What if motherhood turns me into a bitter monster that makes me hate my husband (and all men) and ruins our relationship, which in turn make me regret my child? What if motherhood makes me insane?
I don't want to end up one of those woman on the 10pm news that shot her husband in his sleep and then drown her children in the bathtub, all while telling everyone God told her to do it.

I know I don't owe anyone an explanation as to my personal choices. I suppose this post is more for me than anyone else...a visualisation of my thoughts for this moment in time.
Who knows?
I might feel differently tomorrow.

All the Things I Have Never Wanted

I think I just had a flashforward of what my life may look like in a few short years.
After I graduate, I am hitting the road.
I have to get out of Louisiana. I HAVE TO. This place is going to destroy my soul. By some miracle, I have managed to avoid it for 21 years but now it seems like a time bomb will explode at any moment, rendering me a smoldering pile of ashes. And I will not arise a gorgeous phoenix; but merely an uninspired, listless, hollow vesicle; looking for a man to fill my time.
I WILL NOT end up married to one of my cousin's church friends; one that still finds it social acceptable to use the "n" word and believes that a woman's only good for "makin' babies" and doing the dishes. I will not go to church with him as a smiling Stepford wife, knowing that he is cheating on me as I bake apple pies with his mother, who I secretly despise. I will not birth his children, spoiled brats that scream in the store when I won't buy them another toy truck.
I am not settling for this life...this life without passion or art or true love.
I will not settle for a life without Paris or jazz music.
I am not settling. I will not settle.