We Are Well Pleased...
(The socks are complete...not the husband. He's just cute.)
And these have begun and I'm so very delighted with them that I could scarcely pry them out of my hands long enough to photograph them:
These two photos are the best of about 25 attempts and they still don't look as cool in film as they do in....well, not in person....in wool, perhaps. I ADORE these socks already. Again, I grew up in the rural Spokane Valley. Be patient.
I was also greatly touched by all your kind comments about my essay. I had hoped it wasn't too nauseatingly sweet, or too obviously geared towards impressing the committee. Truth is, I meant everything in there and more that I didn't have room to say. But we live in a world were earnestness is suspect and a desire to make a difference is seen as questionable. In any case, whether I get in or not, I am warmed by the loving friendship of all my blog family...people who have never met me and yet still take the time to hold my hand as I begin the terrifying process of baring myself to a committee of real strangers. I've heard that friends are the wings you get when your own have forgotten how to fly. I'd add that they are the additional wings you get when the flight will be long and hard and your own begin to weary. You guys rule, and I can't say that in enough ways.
Peg mentioned, correctly, I think, that a nurse really needs a sense of humor, sometimes a bit of a dark one. I agree with that wholeheartedly. For instance, I once had a young man--perhaps 22--who came in because he was terribly concerned about his blood pressure. Apparently it had been slightly elevated at one of those drug store BP machines. It was fine in our office and I assured him that occasional spikes can be quite normal, even assuming the machine was correct in the first place. He nodded, but still seemed terribly upset. Wondering why he was so concerned, I asked him if he had a strong family history of hypertension and was worried about inheriting it. He nodded quickly and looked up at me with an expression of great fear as he explained "Yes, Ma'am. My stepfather has it really bad."
I also managed to collect some pieces of advice for my patients, after a bit of experience with them. To wit:
If you had unprotected sex a week ago and now you suddenly have what you believe to be "a mosquito bite on your johnson", you need to wear more clothes, more mosquito repellant, or a condom. I'm voting for the latter.
"Fasting" does indeed mean no danish and latte. Yes, even if it's a small danish. Yes, you probably should have mentioned it BEFORE we took your blood to check your cholesterol and assumed from the results that your blood was the consistency of cream of wheat.
"Don't ask, don't tell" is not a good policy for you to adopt regarding your blood sugar levels when you are a diabetic. Trust me. No, you cannot sell when it gets to 400.
No, I do not believe that you are wearing 64 pound pants...but it's a good try.
"But I can't see it that way!" is not a good reason to ignore my request to have you cover one eye while reading the eye chart. In fact, it's kind of the point.
The front desk staff really have no idea if "this is normal" or not. Please pull your pants back up before one of them quits.
Leaving a message that says "Hi, it's me" may work quite well with your family and friends. I, however, have about 500 people who want me to call them back and, coincidentally, they are all named "me". Until I receive my supersecret powers of mindreading in the mail, please consider leaving your OTHER name. I promise not to tell anyone.
A ziploc bag, while creative, is not actually the best container for a urine sample. Especially if the zip is not really secure. Ask. I swear I'll give you as many little cups as you could possibly want.
Likewise, please do not leave stool samples ANYWHERE without telling someone official looking that you have done so. Hint: all the people you can tell are dressed roughly alike. The secretary has become quite traumatized and will not even consider brown bagging her lunch anymore.
If I ask you why you are seeing the doctor today, "I don't know" is not an answer I can do much with. Nor is "I think I was supposed to come back....for something." Pick something, or I will. You don't want to know what I will pick.
I may be mistakenly looking more brilliant than I actually am. If so, please realize that it is false. I am not, in fact, able to determine what medicines you're taking from the comment "I take some little yellow pills. I don't know what they're for.", though I'm flattered that you think I can.
If I could tell you what the doctor will say about your pain/nausea/whatever, I would be making more money and possibly learning to golf. I'm asking you to come see him BECAUSE I don't know what's wrong with you. Sadly, I cannot channel him.
Yes...yes, I do think that the reason your cholesterol is still high might have something to do with the fact that you haven't taken your medication for eight months. Call me a genius.