Quintessence of Dust

Mood Music

2009-03-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

I think Shakespeare was wrong about music being "the food of love." I know it's utter sacrilege for a bardolater, such as myself, to say that he was ever wrong. Surely such an offence should come with some sort of terrible punishment. Five and Twenty lashings with a quill pen? Banishment from Verona? A poisoned pearl in my wine? Or the worst of all be subjected to the witty and cutting insults that we all know the Bard is capable of slinging?
I suppose he didn't really say that as himself. The Duke in Twelfth Night says it, so it's Orsino who is wrong. There, now all can be forgiven. And I narrowly dodge lashings, banishments and the sharp edge of his tongue-in-cheek.
Well the point I was trying to make before I got side tracked by a few hundred years, was that music is "the food" of so may emotions, moods, and desires (love is but one). Sure it's not profound but I've been noticing lately my need for music in nearly every situation. Sometimes I have to settle for the music in my head. During tests, for example. No matter how good a rapport I have with the lady that runs the testing centre (haven't had to show her my Student ID since the fainting incident of '08) there is no way I'm getting in there with headphones and a CD and/or MP3 player.
There is a song or tune for everything and I seem to have an innate need to find it. Like my taste in so many things my taste in music can be described with one word: eclectic. Though many have tried to use the word indecisive. But since "other people" aren't writing this we shall use eclectic and say nothing more of the matter.
It isn't always an easy thing to decide what music one is in the mood for. Admittedly U2 is a safe bet with me most of the time but a girl can't live on Bono and "One" alone. So what to listen to when I need something different? When I'm in one of my excruciatingly up beat moods anything goes; from David Bowie to The Proclaimers to Enya, from Loreena Mckennitt to Sting to Simon and Garfunkle to Apocalyptica. When I'm a little depressed and need cheering up nothing is so good as the bagpipes and didgeridoo of The Wicked Tinkers. But if I'm quite depressed and need a good wallow Staind, Godsmack, or Pearl Jam are a must (all excellent at other times as well). What about when I'm cooking, cleaning, meditating, studying, reading, writing, exercising (stop with the giggling it happens on occasion), or anything else that needs a soundtrack?
Cleaning calls for something peppy that makes me want to move about. You'd be surprised how fast I can vacuum with Erasure blaring. Swing music is remarkably good for that too. The danger lies in the desire to fling the vacuum about as if it were your partner in the dance (no one must know what became of the lamp or where that hole in the wall came from).
Recently I made a discovery that has forever changed the Saturday nights that I cook (oh the exciting life I lead). There is a radio station that plays all show tunes from 7 till midnight. Oh the joy! The bliss! Ooo the unmitigated ecstasy! (I told you it's an exciting life) Not everything played is a favourite (they have the gall to play songs from *shudder* West Side Story *shudder shudder*) but I tell you when a favourite, old or new, comes on I can belt it out so as to shatter windows 3 blocks away. For I am a (stereotypically) flamboyant gay man in a tomboy's body!
But for now I need to go find out which song is the food for my current mood.

Starting the New Year a little late.

2009-01-09T17:05:00.000-08:00

First off, I hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year. Of course me being who I am, I meant to write this blog after the last final of the fall semester. Then I didn't. I meant to write it after Christmas. Then I didn't. I meant to write it on New Years Eve. Then I didn't. You get the general idea. Sink me! You wouldn't want me to break character would you? How else would you know it was really me and not some stranger using my blog, eh?
I thought that this time I would give you a little update on some of the things I've done in the nursing program so far. I know that you have probably heard most of this before but school has literally left me with only one thing to talk about. School. It's a little sad really. But what is one to do about it? I ask you.

I have:
Completed five of the required courses (Pathophysiology, Pharmacology I, Fundamentals,Medical Surgical Nursing, and OB).
Given numerous oral medications.
Given two subcutaneous shots to test for TB.
Administered several inter muscular shots.
Injected one of my nursing student pals with normal saline as a practice (oh if only it could have been the instructor that I got to jab with a needle)
Been injected with saline by the same nursing student pal that I injected (fair play and all that, you know).
Had two virtual strangers practice giving me a bed bath (self consciousness was left at the door that day).
Practiced bed baths on one of the aforesaid virtual strangers.
Written 11 care plans.
Worked with a dummy that actually makes noises like talking, moaning, and vomit sounds and as a result had a severe case of the giggles for at least 10 minutes.
Performed a complete, and I do mean complete, skin inspection on an octogenarian.
Discontinued four IV lines (three on real people).
Stuck my gloved and lubricated fingers inside a cervix box (literally a box with a rubber simulated cervix and rubber simulated fetal head) to estimate dilation and effacement. That was a really fun day for the one guy in our group, to be sure.
Been trapped in a supply closet with one other student as our instructor grilled us on catheters until we were both so unnerved that the procedure was bound to fail before it even started.
Performed two catheterizations, one on a dummy and one on a real person.
Quit and restarted the program an estimated 4.5 thousand times.
Worked with a dummy that has a detachable penis.
Managed to not cry in front of an instructor. I won't give the ones that would love that the satisfaction.
Listened to an old lady tell me the same stories about her time as a nurse again and again over the course of a few hours.
Seen multiple nurses roll their eyes in disgust when they realize that they will be saddled with a student nurse all day (that's a great way to start a clinical).
Been welcomed, encouraged, taught, and thanked by nearly as many nurses that understand the plight of the student.
Helped take care of one very sweet man to later hear that he had died the next day.
Managed to communicate with one patient who spoke very little English and got by with my sadly limited Spanish. "Si! Bueno!"
Tried desperately to coax a 16 year old quadriplegic to eat so they wouldn't have to start him on tube feedings. Looked into that same kids eyes and knew that he had was giving up. Knew that I'd probably do the same but wanted so badly to for him not to. The only thing that saved me that day was the instructor (the best one I've had yet) he was brilliant and just let me step back a moment and not let it overwhelm me.
Given a bed bath to a dying woman. I can't possibly describe the rattling, wheezing, scratching breaths that she was taking but it's a sound I will never forget. If it weren't for Dawn (one of my nursing student buddies) I'm not sure I would have made it through. We talked to her though we were unsure if she could really hear us. We described the weather and tried to be cheerful and soothing. By the end her breathing was noticeably improved and she was more responsive. Nothing spectacular or life saving but it made an impression on me none the less.

Odds fish I've rambled on far longer then I meant to! Lud, but if that doesn't make you stop reading my blogs I'm demmed If I know what will.(In case you can't tell I've been reading the Scarlet Pimpernel books lately and they've gone right to me brain )

Random Thoughts (and I do mean random)

2008-11-04T04:31:00.000-08:00

I think it's about time I posted again. It really is.
I think about blogging more often than I ever do it. I think you've probably noticed
I thought I would at least be able to keep up with one post a month.
I think that you thought I would write more often than this too. (I think that was very silly of me and you.)
I think the word thought sounds bizarre.
And I always thought the word think must come from a strange language indeed.
But I think codswallop a perfectly reasonable word. And insipid thrills me no end.
I think it's strange how many people don't love storm clouds and rain.
I think I always know what I want, except right now.
You've caught on to the theme (I think).
I thought I would have that story written by now, but...
I think it's either very early or very late. I can't tell with the schedule I've been keeping.
I think I agree with at least one thing Descarte thought.
I think about insomnia a lot. If I could just quit thinking I'd fall asleep.
I never thought anything would make me question my desire to work in medicine.
I'm in a mood, I think.
I think I already had the flu so, do I really need the shot?
There is something very fun about costumes. I think I missed dressing up for Halloween.
I think my foot has gone to sleep.
I have, I think, made too many mistakes in life.
I never thought I would miss my exercise routine. Sometimes I don't.
I think everything sounds better in French. Je pense que tout sonne mieux en français. See what I mean?
But if you speak English than I think it's best if you do so with an accent.
I think I'm addicted to caffeine.
I think you must be bored to go on reading like this.
I think Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde said it best.
I think I laugh more than your average person.
I thought I'd be living in Ireland by now. Galway would have been perfect.
I think Icarus was trying to do what we all want to do.
The mirror was just lying to me, or so I thought.
I think some people do expect the Spanish Inquisition. But far be it for me to contradict comedy.
That's quite enough. I think I'll stop.

But first I thought I should apologize for all this.

Sweltering Heat and a Fashion Statement

2008-08-11T18:23:00.000-07:00

Well you can't say that your surprised. It had to happen sometime and you knew it did. This is my obligatory whine/diatribe about the heat of summer and how badly I do detest it. Now I know what you're going to say, "oh it's been relatively cool for that past few days." Fine I will give you that today wasn't very hot but I will not be dissuaded. I am convinced that I am just a hotter (no not in that sexy sort of way, I know) person. There are cold people. You know who they are. They're the ones who you see chattering in a long sleeved sweaters while your sitting there in shorts and a flimsy top sweating like a runner in a marathon in the Sahara desert. They are the ones that have the unmitigated gall to turn off the fan that you just switched on saying something like, "Oh who turned this on? It's freezing." "I turned it on" you say "me the one who is as we speak undergoing the phase shift from solid to liquid and if you don't turn that fan back on it will be vapour next."
Well I am a hot person and I think that's the point I was trying to make. I don't know for sure though. You'll have to get back to me in the fall when my brain has hopefully resolidified where it belongs.
I have not a solution but an idea that may help. Anna's little foray into vintage fashion reminded me of a thought that I had while feeling the top of my head being turned into a torch by the relentless sun. Parasols. I shall, nay I must bring parasols back into fashion! Oh how Victorian of me! But just think this is the age of being told to avoid UV rays and use SPF 500 sunblock if you don't want to have skin cancer by next week. Sure it was out of vanity and a strange feminine ideal that caused women to be treated like a piece of fine bone chine that could shatter at any moment. Still they were on to something with those parasols. Now I'm not suggesting that we bring back the bustle (my butt is large enough thank you) or the fear of a glimpse of female ankle (I am a shorts wearing hussy after all). I do love vintage clothing but I don't want to wear it every day. I think a parasol paired with jeans and a tee shirt would be fabulous. I like the mixed fashions.
All I ask is that we have more lacy umbrellas and matching fans, while we're at it, available in stores. And that the next time you step out to brave the roasting sun you give the modern Victorian look a chance.

One Down

2008-08-06T04:58:00.000-07:00

It is at long last complete. I am officially finished with the Fundamentals of Nursing class. I took my final yesterday and now have a little time to breath a sigh of relief and relish the idea that I don't have to retake that class.
There were a few people in the class that were taking it for the second time ("the curve throwers" I call them). I looked at them with a mixture of awe and dread.With awe because they managed to convince themselves to come back for a second round of torture, in an Oliver Twist "please sir, I want some more" sort of way. With dread because one of them had only missed the required test score average by a tenth of a percent and I did not want that to happen to me. I don't know if I would have had it in me to do it all over again. I really don't think I would. But that is coming from the same person who quit every Monday only to show up for Clinicals every Tuesday morning. I still haven't decided if that is a sign of being a quitter or not. Maybe I'm just not a very good quitter.
There is, of course, a lot more to go but just one more class down is a big deal to me and everyone else in the program I'm sure.
I am still on a high from getting a 100% on my last care plan. I know that unless you've seen a care plan that means very little to you. You're just going to have to trust me when I say that they are hours and hours of work with a brutal grading system.
So, thrice I say "huzzah!"

So it's come to this

2008-07-19T05:39:00.000-07:00

What's to be said? I have given in... I've thrown in the towel... The white flag has gone up... My once bravely brandished sword has now been laid aside... I am now a "blogger."
I know. I know. "Very dramatic" you say. But gad! I never betook myself to anything of the kind before. Nor did I ever bethink myself likely to. (many apologies for the odd words but you know my love of the archaic and I have been reading the Scarlet Pimpernel books of late. I'm demmed if I can stop using them.)
Anyway here I am knowing full well that the only people in the world who will read this or care are Anna and Deborah. So, I lay any and all consequences that come of my latest attempt to move with the times squarely at their feet. Or roundly or triangularly or dodecahedronly at their feet, depending on the shape these consequences come in.
I've been reading both your blogs and have been thoroughly entertained and completely taken in.
So it really had come to this.
(By the way, you can keep the towel and the white flag but I'll need to have that sword back thank you very much!)