I'm going to marry my new teacher, or at least give her an apple

Last quarter ended on an awkward note, as I stayed after my final to speak to my A&P instructor about his inappropriate comments throughout the quarter - see my last post for more info. So imagine my unpleasant shock when, the Friday before classes were due to begin on Monday, I got a letter telling my I hadn't paid my spring quarter tuition and was therefore DROPPED FROM ALL MY CLASSES. WTF. That's a horrible way to let me know that. Wouldn't logic tell you that if someone owes you money, you should give them notice of that BEFORE it becomes a problem?

Nope. That was the first I'd heard of it, because up until now my financial aid has covered all of my tuition with no problems.

So now I was faced with the possibility that once I paid the extra money financial aid didn't cover, I might have to try to get into whatever A&P 2 class is available. Which includes the one taught by my last instructor. And both he and I would probably rather eat some glass than have that happen. Awesome.

Long story short, it all worked out and I'm deleriously happy to be enrolled in my (female) teacher's A&P 2 class. Today was the first lecture, and she's organized, clear, and seems to be an excellent instructor. And hasn't mentioned her genitals once!

I love her. I'm so, so, so relieved to be taking her class! This is going to be a good quarter.

Code: Disaster

Winter kicked my little town's ass this last few weeks. I know, everyone jokes about how we are such wusses about snow in the Pacific Northwest, but the thing is, we are never ever prepared for it. We don't have the infrastructure in place to handle it well. It's not just the snow, or the unplowed roads, but the fact that we have approximately 8 trees per square foot* and a lot of them fall down during storms and knock out our power.

So this last week was a special week at the hospital, as a disaster code was called. That meant all staff on premesis was not allowed to leave. People were mandated there for 30+ hours, sleeping on the floor wherever there was room for a short respite after 12-16 hours of work.

AWFUL.

I wasn't there during this, and had no way of getting there, which suited me just fine except that I felt so badly for my coworkers who were carrying all that load understaffed. In spite of this, they made it, and did well.

The thing that I found most touching was that we all got these desperate emails begging us to come and donate blood, because obviously all the regular blood drives out in the community weren't able to happen. Much as I hate needles in me, I wanted to go and do this, but again, had no way of getting to the hospital.

The other day I got an email from some muckety-muck about how that turned out - the big hospitals from the nearest Big City had some donors (3-10), one of the local Big Companies, had around 20 donors, and our hospital had 70+!! By far the most of any facility that did the emergency blood drives. And this was all from employees that couldn't leave. The email referred to us as "the little hospital that could".

And with that, my heart grew three sizes and I vowed to donate the next time the van is on campus at my school.



*scientific and accurate. Totally.

I'm on it.

I'm off training and working on my hospital's orthopaedics floor regularly now, and I LOVE IT. Love, love, love it. I love that no matter what the problem is, there's always someone there for backup. Not sure how to use that whatchamacallit? Ask someone. Need a bariatric-sized something or another? Ask the unit secretary to call for one. Patient getting combative? You can always call security. We never run out of the basic stuff I use to care for patients (gloves, linens, hygiene supplies) and I'm never left completely on my own to just deal with a situation. It's great. That's the benefit of being at a facility many times over the size of the GreatRep, with all different sorts of staff available.

I've also gotten to see some pretty amazingly gross stuff, like the patient who came in with the complaint of "My toe is missing. I think maybe the dog bit it off". Sure enough, the whole thing was missing, and I could see the bone right in the middle of that toe stump. I get a lot of darling little old ladies who are getting hips repaired or replaced and who are just delighted to have a young lady being the one who helps them to the bathroom. We don't get all that many amputations, which is kind of too bad because I think those are really neat and I want to see how people get back to their regular activities after one (but that's more of physical therapy/rehab deal).

All in all, I'm being exposed to a lot of new conditions/procedures/equipment and the nurses on my floor are quite nice and pleasant to work with. I feel so lucky that I happened into a floor where patients (usually) go home happier and healthier than when they came in - it makes for such a different dynamic than I've experienced before. And I have health insurance! For myself and Mr. Polly both!