A Dollar Well Spent

Two posts in one night after weeks since a decent posting, the excitement is too much to bare, I know. That being said, here's a random bit about my weekend yardsaleing adventures....

So, to reiterate, this weekend I went to yardsales, plural. I meant to spend no money, I spent almost $50, dont ask. Where did just one of those dollars go you ask? I'll tell. For a dollar I bought a frame full of random colored glass pieces. When I first picked it up, I thought, well this is ugly and not worth a dollar, but then I realized that when held up to the light, it was quite pretty. Blues and greens and oranges and whatnot. So I get home pretty ecstatic and put it in my bedroom window where it immediately fills with light and is gorgeous. I bask in the beauty of it, leave the room, and then return later, at which point I think "hmm, it's almost as if there's a pattern in it". Which is when I realized there is, and, you guessed it, it's a cross. Ha! But Damn it. As most of you know, I was not raised along religious lines and have not seen the light on my own, so under normal circumstances, there is no way such a piece of artwork would be in my home. For now the piece is staying (although it is sideways which I guess would be considered blasphemous by many standards), but it makes me smile every time I look at it. Perhaps it is His way of bringing me joy, I may never know.

Sort of similar to a trip Brittany and I took to a cat store, in which my parents informed us we could each choose ONE thing to buy. Seeing as how at that age (11), a cat store was pretty much my idea of heaven on earth (my lack of religious upbringing aside), what to chose amounted to about the biggest dilemma I'd thusfar encountered in life. After much contemplation, I purchased a magnet that said "sleep with me, sleep with my cat". Why this of all things in the store seemed to be the best choice, I'll never know. Why my parents did not persuade me to perhaps rethink my purchase, I'll also never understand. All I know is that the saying I took to mean "sleep in my trundle bed during a sleepover, sleep with my cat", took on a whole new meaning when my eighth-grade friends pointed out it's dirtier connotation. Forever scarred and horribly embarrassed, I hid the magnet deep in one of my drawers, only to find it when I was packing for college. Since then it has been a staple on every refrigerator I've used over the years, and to this day the sight of it/story still cracks me up. I dont know if this cross is destined to have the same length of stay, but for now it's out in all it's glory.

Blood, Guts, and Conservative Gore

My workweek started out at 4:50am this morning! Which really was 6:30, but from alarm on, I was officially up in the 4s. Why you ask? Ok, I'll tell. I was watching surgeries! Having never had a surgery, nor witnessed one as of this am, I am now proud and excited to say I have seen 7 total knee replacements! Which means I am basically an expert. I was in the room, wore the scrubs, the facemask, the booties, even got flecked with some bodily substance at one point! Biohazard? yes. Initially, they showed me the chairs in the room, told me if I felt faint that was fine, normal even. They didnt know they were dealing with a champ, obviously. 7 surgeries and 11 hours later I was officially declared the longest lasting observer ever! Last Intern Standing, check. It's amazing how quickly it becomes routine though. That being said, the amount of sawing and hammering and overall trauma associated with a total joint replacement is uncanny. As is listening to the conversations that take place during said procedure. If I learned one thing today it was: if given the opportunity I am presented with two potential future husbands and one is a surgeon and the other is, whatever, go with surgeon. Economic depression my ass. His lifestyle was one I both envy and despise. Example:

Dr: "I took my son driving yesterday for the first time, it was quite the right of passage."

Asst: "In the Porsch?"

Dr: "No no"

Asst: "SUV?"

Dr: "No."

Asst: "the jaguar?"

Dr: "No, just my wife's old suburban".

Salary aside, he was very nice, talked me through many aspects of each procedure and answered all my questions, and is allowing me to come back on wed to see two other surgeries (shldr and hip this time, I'm good on the knee thing). It's cool because two of the patients I saw today just might end up in rehab, which means I'll get to see them start to finish.

The only downside to today, was the Dr's discussion of how despicable it was that there'd been a gay pride parade in Olympia yesterday--apparently he took it as a personal affront that "they" had the audacity to show up in costume and parade about in what was certainly an attempt at ruining father's day. And if not to ruin father's day, than it was definitely in honor of the solstice, which, as everybody knows, is when all the "witches and warlocks come out of hiding". This coming from a man who two seconds later when asked if he'd seen any good movies, starts talking about one involving WWII that was, in his opinion great, because it involved Nazis getting blown to bits "which is always a good thing". Which then prompted a shift in conversation to more current genocides, how atrocious he believes them to be, and how depressing it is that for as far as mankind has come, we still can be so inhumane. For someone who bases their profession on logic, the hypocrisy here just astounds me. In fact, I had to practice some deep breathing and full blown empathy to not let the conversation cloud my otherwise delightful experience in the OR (operating room that is). Just to keep on this tangent for a bit longer, the Dr also mentioned, bringing up the parade again hours later, that he couldnt even stomach a different, yet to him similarly disturbing, parade honoring mother earth, during which everyone dresses like animals/creatures and wanders around the capitol. In his next breath he informed us that what he DID want to see, was "that garden show" that takes place in homes and parks around Olympia, because "it's gotta be just beautiful". Again, the ridiculousness of someone who cannot stomach the thought of a parade that celebrates the earth (aka nature) expressing interest in attending a tour of just that, except with the safer "garden" label, blows me away. So maybe I'd rather not marry a surgeon....

PT Time!

It has been a full past couple of weeks.  The main news is I started my first internship--in-patient rehab in a hospital in Olympia, WA.  That's the capitol in case you need a refresher.  Despite being a shorter drive from T-town than Seattle, I really have spent about zero time there in the sevenish years I've been up here.  In fact, aside from knowing that the lightposts lining the freeway are tall and skinny, I really couldnt have told you much about the place prior to May 26th.  Thanks to my terrible sense of direction and the unfounded belief that, when I'm lost, I5--inevitably the road I'm looking for--is just a few blocks away meaning that stopping to ask for directions would be ridiculously unnecessary, I have actually managed to see much of the countryside surrounding the hospital.  The city is the type of green that reminds me of home.  It is not that Tacoma lacks trees, but there is something about the sprawling fields, greenery of all shades and openness of the land that is different from just 30 miles north.  I have a tendency to irrationally like or dislike people, and I think this applies to cities as well.  And I irrationally like Olympia.  I got a bike map today, and next week my goal is to do all my runs after work on the extensive trail system that, at least on paper, seems to weave itself around the city, extending to Mt. Rainier and beyond.  I also have tentative plans to visit their farmer's market during one of my lunch breaks and this morning I realized there is a co-op two blocks from my work!  I can't wait to explore it all next week!  

When it comes to patients, I have already learned so much.  The ages and diagnoses have ranged from 23-94, and included head injuries, cancer, multi-trauma and strokes to the left/right side of the brain and cerebellum.  I see the patients 2x a day, for about 45min at a time.  Every day is unique, and the different personalities of the patients and their family members makes the time pass quickly.  Progress is easy to see, as many of the patients come to us straight from acute care as soon as their vital signs/condition is stabilized.  Many of the stroke patients we see can hardly move the affected side of their body when they first arrive, so we are the ones who get to witness the muscles recover--meaning the patients often are giving us credit for movement that we are helping facilitate, yes, but really not responsible for.  In any event, they are excited, we are excited, and as they go home you really get to feel as if your work is making a difference.  Although this population is a far cry from the athlete that most people, including myself, enter the profession thinking they want to work with, as of right now in-patient rehab could definitely be in my future.  So You Think You Can Dance is limiting my ability to concentrate, so I will have to discuss patient stories at a later date....