Almost there.

Yeah, that's a lot of nurses. . . Imagine the nursing care if someone passed out.

Graduation is T-minus 5 days. Five days until I'm done with my undergraduate career. And even though the job market sucks, and finances could be better, I am definitely taken back to the last day of school scene from Dazed and Confused.



I mean what is better than the last day of school? I mean, other than this.

I'm also planning on living in downtown Portland in the beautiful Broadway PSU dorm. Could there be anything better than a Summer in the City? There is Saturday Market, Powell's, the Waterfront, food, shops, shows, Flugtag. All of these right outside my front door. I will finally experience downtown Portland without the hassle of coming from NoPo and the associated hassle of parking, meters, and traffic. One of the best things I've seen was the Gay Pride Parade, I had no plans of attending, just happened to be downtown. There were queens, fetishists, and bull dykes, and I can't wait to see even more. Oh, I will have my finger on your pulse Portland, I commit to fully exploring your oddities.

Also, I will finally have the time to deepen the relationships with people I love. I have come to realize spending so much time at UP, has me far too focused on my career. I've never had a problem focusing on my personal life, and its time to make that a priority. I guess that's a pretty Gen Y statement, but a job is a means to an end and a job will never compare to the joy of loading up the hippie bus for Country Fair, or the excitement of seeing a child's face on arriving at camp.

Can't sleep.

It's 12:45 pm, and I can't sleep. I work at 7:30, which gives me roughly 6 hours of potential sleep time. Fortunately, I know what's keeping me up. As the last few drops of college come toward my sweet lips, I have never felt more overwhelmed in my entire life. I mean I credit myself as being the type to 'roll with the punches' and take it easy, but the end of this semester is really getting out of hand.

The problem comes from the simple number of times I will be evaluated on my performance in the next short few weeks.

• The biggest challenge is in the form of the Comprehensive ATI. This is the culmination of every sub-specialty studied in nursing, combined into one juggernaut test. The goal is a score of 75.3% or better, which indicates a 95% predicted probability of passing NCLEX. The thing that is so difficult for this exam is after working in the 'real-world' in my capstone, it is very difficult to return to the black and white, textbook way of looking at every situation. If I don't pass the exam on the first shot, there is one retake, and if I still don't pass, then I must take an incomplete and take a Kaplan-type review course ($400, paid by yours truly).
• The next hurdle is the oral comprehensive--- You are led into a room with a row of nursing school faculty, and you are seated in a lonely chair as they give you a clinical situation, and you are evaluated on your responses. Luckily, I have been blessed with the gift of gab, so I intend on wooing the socks off everyone listening.
  
• Maternal/Child ATI exams- placed oh so conveniently directly before pub crawl. These tests matter much less, but they still have an impact on my final grade.
• Clinical- If I can get through this rotation aneurysm-free from not being able to give medication or very few clinical skills, it WILL be a miracle.
• Maternal/Child Final exam- meh.
• NCLEX-yeah, I hear it sucks.
• Life- Moving out of Portland, finding a job, and readjusting to a new chapter in life, no big deal, right?

All of this is going down at a time, when Senioritis is particularly strong, and I really want to be enjoying the last bit of time with all the people I have taken 4 years getting to know. I have been amazed simply in the number of people who have come/are planning to visit in the next few weeks. I hope to maintain my good-natured humor as I try and really savor the time I have with special people.

Ok, I'm feeling better now, thanks for listening Internet!

Unicorn Cafe

For the first day of adventure Rachael and I got an ambitious start at 11am. When getting a late start to the day there is only one establishment I think of: Little Red Bike Cafe. But since we were in a new city, it was time to try new things, so we walked to the Unicorn Cafe. Now I have a serious case of the snotty Portland attitude that we have THE BEST coffee shops, so I wasn't expecting much. But take a look for yourself:
Looks pretty great, doesn't it?

I ordered a latte and a Turkey Sandwich with basil, cheddar, and mayo. In the meantime I scoped out the place and fell in love with this sign:


I really, really liked the Flagon of latte, I definitely felt like a medieval knight drinking from the glass, I guess that falls into the Unicorn theme. The only problem was that it made the drink go tepid faster. The coffee was surprisingly good and even had a touch of latte art, not the easiest thing to do with that tall, narrow vessel.

The cantaloupe needs its own paragraph. It was EXCELLENT; sweet, juicy, and a little tangy. (Who knew Chicago had good produce.)

The thing that really let me down? NO KETCHUP!?!?!? The shock and horror. Everyone knows that I am the condiment king. And while I can't expect every establishment to cater to my desires. I feel like ketchup is mainstream enough condiment (even for the mid-west) for grilled cheese sandwiches. I mean it would certainly have me coming back more, and it has natural mellowing agents.

But the real problem came with the sandwich. I was expecting to be shot to the moon and only got to low orbit. By no means was the sandwich bad, it just didn't "bring the thunder". The bread was dry, and added little to the experience, the turkey was tasteless and left me wanting and in the end I felt like I could reproduce this in a dorm room.

Chicago Musings

I have never lived in a city where riding public transportation was much of a necessity. Then I visited Chicago, which is perhaps one of the most car-unfriendly cities I have ever been. There is the issue of difficult parking, difficult navigation, snow, rain, wind, and of course hyper-aggressive pedestrians. Don't worry, I have become one of those pedestrians. Although the journey does seem to take longer, riding the 'L' has been a pleasurable experience. I am able to see a cross-section of the Chicago population, and it gives me time to muse during my favorite pastime, people-watching.

Here are some of my musings that I happened to jot down during my journey today:

- In the Pacific NW there is a constellation of different outdoor apparel brands. In Chicago there are two choices, one can either go classy with a P-coat (with the obligatory scarf, of course) or one can wear The North Face. It seems that Chicagoans are less inclined to try brands with aggressive sounding names such as: Mountain Hardwear, Mountainsmith, or Outdoor Research. (I love that in Oregon, the more hardcore the image of a brand is, the more hipster points one gets.)

- I have been astounded by the number of deaf people, or rather the number of people using sign language on the L. I have seen no fewer than 10 couples signing away. This kills my ability to eavesdrop (a skill I have honed over many years) and I KNOW they are talking about me.

- I have seen what I would guess is an average number of gay men/couples in a major city. But where the hell are all the lesbians? My friend told me that I may have to have my Gay-Dar recalibrated after living in the bastion of lesbianism that is Portland. It also has forced me to reconsider how I evaluate an establishment. In Portland I know a place is cool based on the number of lesbians there.

Vignettes

I have come to realize in my nursing practice that the shortest moments with a patient are often the things that require the most reflection. The shortest phrases seem to capture entirely the essence of a situation.

I often tell people the reason I went into nursing was the fact that it was a people-oriented field. While this is certainly true, I have witnessed myself change in response to the environment of the Emergency Department. The complaints are often so exaggerated or elusive that it undermines how a nurse interacts and judges patients. It is in these small moments, or vignettes, that I have found myself realizing the intelligence, honesty, and sense of humor in patients. After all, the ED primarily sees people who are usually quite normal people, they just happened to "feel weird" after THC exposure.

And what a wonderful position to be able to see a such a large cross-section of society. It is truly a people-watcher's dream. Not only can we watch a person, but we find out the most intimate details: major surgeries, favorite Dog the Bounty Hunter episode, bowel & bladder habits, even sexual history. The problem is that frequently this gets condensed to "a 78-year old female with complaints of chest pain".

I hope to recapture some of the dignity of the wonderful people I have met, and share their stories. (Names have been changed, re:HIPAA)

- Melanie was an unusual patient with atrial fibrillation, but this wasn't new for her as she was over 6 feet tall, with legs jutting out from the end of the bed. She came to the ED with her husband, who at just over 5'8" made the couple seem all the more disjointed. As the care for his wife grew more acute, he seemed not to notice, absorbed in his laptop. But this wasn't due to disinterest, rather he possessed a loving aura, gently recounting her past medical history and filling in Melanie's gaps in stories. I was completely stuck by the simple comfort they had in each others presence, and quiet confidence.

When I asked her about whether she played sports, she commented that she always loved playing with the boys and how in high school she dated the kicker for the football team. He had all the glory of being on the team, even though she could kick the ball farther. Her even-handed confidence was absolutely awesome to behold. She told a story of being tackled particularly hard during a pick-up game. She was on her period and blood got all over the place. The boys were worried that they had really hurt her, but once she got them calmed down she simply said, "Now, you boys with sisters explain it to the naive ones, while I go change."

And the stories never stopped, she was like a ball of string. As the time passed, she slowly unwound a lifetime of stories. Never for the purpose of boasting or bragging, but simply to fill the silences while I started an IV, or took her vital signs.

As I learned more about the relationship with her husband I couldn't help but guess the number of people who have tried to achieve the love that they had for one another. A love so pure, and mature that even the prospect of being put to sleep and being shocked (cardioverted) only garnered a simple kiss and "I'll see you soon, love."