Ohh Stevenson

I have neglected this blog. But even if I had readers, I wouldn’t apologize. I am not a big fan of people saying they are sorry all over the place for not posting often. It’s their blog and they have no obligation to post for people. But maybe it’s just me.

This semester has been one of the most challenging ones, to say the least. And not the good kind of challenging. I am so glad that it is over so very soon! 3 weeks from now I will be forever done with Stevenson. Unless God wants me back here, but I really hope that is not the case.

I have not been impressed with the way the school has been running the nursing program at all. I feel as if they are putting all their money and energy to grow the school by spend a million on starting a football team; taking many, many pictures of students with a cardboard cutout of Michelle Obama to send to her so she can imagine herself here, so she will then come to speak at graduation [I feel that this is the stupidest idea ever]; building a gym on the OM campus so they can have all the athletics on the Owings Mills campus; and I could go on. All the while this is going on, the nursing skills lab has been flooding and every time someone smokes outside of the building the lovely air circulation thingy will pull the smoke air into the skills lab.

There have been a lot of deaths related to the nursing program, too. One students dad died of a heart attack, another had her aunt, uncle and grandmother die in a car accident, a teachers husband died of a stroke, and my advisors dad passed away. All of these were unexpected, except for my advisors dad.

I have found that I am not a fan of teachers that have just graduated from graduate school for teaching. They are they hardest teachers ever. Also, I am not a fan whatsoever of partners who go to the teacher if they have a problem with you instead of just talking to you about it. Yes, this happened. Are we 5 or something? I am also not a fan of health assessment teachers telling you that you have to let your partner have ‘full access’ to your body to finish the course requirements.

In other news: I am taking next semester off from school.

Scrubbin’ to the elbows!

This morning I embarked on a new part of my life. It was my first clinical day at Franklin Square Hospital.

As I was driving to the hospital this morning, just as the first light rays were hitting the sky, I was thinking to myself that I really did it. I really am in nursing school. Woah!

As I drove down 695, I couldn’t help but think about all the classes I had been through to get to this point. All the exams, all the papers, all the stress that I have been through, and then I thought about what is still coming up for me, aand I decided not to think about it right then.

I found the employee parking lot, parked, and boarded the shuttle to take me to the hospital building. We pulled up to the side door, exited, and walked through into the hospital. I remember my instructor telling me to follow the long hallway till I got to the cafeteria and we would meet there at quarter to 8. I found it no problem [but there was still the anxiety present] and realized that I had over a half hour to sit and wait for every one else to arrive.

I picked a seat that would have a clear view of the entranceway and pulled out my pharmacology notes to study for my exam that was tonight. I studied for a few minutes, and then I just started to look around. That’s when it struck me. I had not been in a hospital cafeteria since Amy was in the NICU 14 years ago.

I remember it all very vividly even though I was only 4 at the time. Josh had stayed home with someone, since he was only 2, while Katie and I went with Dad to visit Mom and Amy. I remember scrubbing up with this scratchy soap or something all the way up to my elbows, putting on a gown that was altogether too big for my little 4-year old body, and trying to figure out how to put on my facemask while keeping my sleeves out of the way.

I remember walking over to visit my sister, and hearing all the machines beeping and blaring. It was either one of us; Katie or myself, who kept asking what all the machines were for. The nurse on duty was so nice and calm when she answered and told us what everything did and why it was hooked up to our sister, all the while getting Amy out of her incubator into mom’s waiting arms.

When the visit was over, Dad took Katie and I down to the cafeteria to get ice cream. And this is strictly a memory thing; there is no home video about this [I remember looking].

As I sat in the cafeteria at Franklin Square this morning I was over struck by emotions that I didn’t expect. I thought back through all the years since I was last in a hospital cafeteria and just realized how much we all have grown. Amy is no longer a very sick baby in the neonatal intensive care unit, but is a teenager with an attitude to boot. I am no longer that four year-old visiting her sister in the hospital, but a junior in college in the nursing program.

It’s amazing how time changes everything. Just imaging what can happen in the next 14 years.

Wound healing

Almost 2 years ago in the spring semester of 2008, I took anatomy and physiology II at AACC. I took it with Larsen as my instructor who, with the exception of Dr. Dean, has been my favorite teacher of all times.

I remember very vividly learning about wounds and wound healing on the second day of class that January week. I normally have a very good memory, but I especially remember this because I was attempting to stop cutting around this time. I remember sitting there trying not to cry when we were learning about the immune response that went along with wound healing, and how many factors go into this process. I saw pictures of what was going on under the layers of skin and imagined it happening right at that moment under the skin of my arms. I found out that it was the collagen fibers that were responsible for the scars on my arms that were visible to everybody’s eyes.

I don't know exactly if learning that was to blame, or if it just added to the package of everything piling up [I am pretty sure it was the latter] but the last week in that January, the 28^th to be exact, was the last time I purposely cut myself. And oh, what a long road it has been since then.

And as I sit here, in the library at the School of Business at Stevenson University, working on a case study that is due tomorrow for Pathophysiology, I am revisiting that subject of wound healing and the process behind it. I am revisiting the memories of that last week in that particular January, and thinking how I will not go back. I have been cut free since that January 28^th, 594 days ago, and the only plan I have is to add to that number.

So, if you will excuse me, I am going to finish writing about wound care, glance at my own collagen fibers that have made their way onto my arm, [wonder if they will ever completely fade away], and continue to count the days that have gone by.

Taking the easy way out.

There is a women currently sitting at another table across the room at the coffee shop. As she is drinking her frappe, she is talking on the phone with her friend. This woman is telling her friend that she is going to buy a certain weight loss product because since sales on that product are skyrocketing, it must work.

She is continuing to talking about it, saying how 80% of the people taking this particular product lost an additional 5 pounds more in a certain time frame without exercising or dieting, just by taking the product.

She wants the easy way out. She wants to lose weight but doesn’t want to do any work.

Aren’t we all like that? It might not specifically be with weight, but I assure you, we all have something that we want without going through the work of getting there.

I am sitting here attempting to work on a case study that is due on Monday for pathophysiology, and I don’t want to do it. I want the A in the class, of course, but if I am not willing to do the work, I know that I won’t get that A.

I need some motivation to get me through this semester. Unlike a weight loss product that you can take to somewhat make you lose weight, there is no such product to make you somewhat get an A.

Motivation, where are you?

Valuable stars

Man. Talk about procrastination. I wrote half of a blog post over the summer and never posted it.

Over the summer I took three summer classes and on top of that had to study for the dosage exam before this semester started. One day, as my summer classes were coming to an end, I grabbed some lunch at Chick-fil-a and sat down to study a bit for one of my finals. As I was sitting there, I overheard a man talking on the phone to his friend and he was complaining about a few things going on in his life, mainly about a ticket he hadn’t paid from 3 years ago in MD, which caused his license to be suspended in SC. There was a sentence he said that really got my attention, “What have I done in this world to make me have all this grief? “

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The last week of my summer classes, I was watching ‘wife swap, and a scene really got me thinking. A mom that swapped families was talking to the dad of that family about his son’s behavior, which was unacceptable to her. Her solution was to give stars for good behavior, which they could use for TV time, computer time, and such, and to take away the stars when they were not obeying her and acting out. In this one seen I saw, the son was completely acting out and disobeying so the “mom” told his dad that he would not be about to go to football practice because she was going to take all his stars away.

When the dad heard this, he told the women that she was not going to make his son stay home from practice because it was something that he loved to do. So he told the “mom” to take away his stars instead of his sons. And she did.

After the son came back from football practice, he was still being completely disobedient so his father told him that he was not supposed to go to practice because he broke the rules, but he let him and said:

“I gave up my stars for you because I didn’t want you to miss out on football practice.“

And can you imagine the son’s response?

“So?”

This is what Jesus did for us. Gave up his live, his stars, so we could go on living. And my response is somewhat like that little boys.

“So?”

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And to wrap this all up, I am such a procrastinator. Not just for not posting this for months, but for putting off writing my 5-page paper till the day before it’s due.

But that is what college is for.

Isn’t it?

coy shai

this is something that i wrote 2 years ago when i was working at my coffee shop. it brings back so many memories 0f the time that i work there and i can't wait to work there tis summer.

ice tea lady

there's this older lady that comes into city dock (well, there's a bunch of older ladies that come in, but this one's special to me.). the first time i saw her, she came in about 10, when the morning rush was over walking ever so slowly with her cane in one hand and her bag in the other. my manger (who is weird and fun and spastic all at the same time, and that's her without expresso) told me to ring her up a grande ice tea and a scone. she gets her ice tea in a cup with no ice and then a cup with just ice. (when i first started i wondered how the heck she could remember everybody's drink, and now i remember most everybody's). she set her bag down on the table at the back of the store, the one that's most isolated. then she came back to the register to pay. she asked, as she was juggling her cane and wallet, if i wouldn't mind carrying her food to the table. i took it over and she thanked me. she is so sweet. then she preceded to take out her crossword puzzle and her newspaper. and then sat there for over three hours. 
   she has come in a bunch of times since then and has always gotten the same thing. butlately, i haven't seen her.

whip cream boy, tall coffee mom, and chai dad.
there is this little boy who comes in with his mother and sometimes his father. he is soadorable. "can i have some whip cream", he asks in his such adorable little voice. his mother always gets a tall coffee; his dad a chai tea. when he is all done with his whip cream, he comes around to the entrance to the back, or his parents pick him up, and he says "sank you". but one day, he didn't order any whip cream. just sat in his mother's arms and looked at me with those big smiling blue eyes and that full head of blond curls. when i asked him if he wanted any, he said no.  

glasses lady
she comes in and gets a couple things for her coworkers in the store next to us. always gets two tyg ice teas, only one with lemons, and a jumbo vanilla latte. but the other day, shechanged it up on me. and got a jam'n tea instead.

people disappear. people say no. people change.

one woman came in with her two year old son, and told me, after we had talked for a bit," i can see you love children by looking in to your eyes."

when my mom came in to pick me up one day, i overheard kerry, the owner of all the docks, tell her that she thinks i am wonderful. i pay good attention to detail and she knows that when she leaves me in charge, i'll get the place cleaned up and looking great. i was surprisedwhen i heard that. (i guess all those years of doing dishes and chores did something. )

i am finding out that people can be a blessing too.

When it's teleprompting you, I pray you'll let it through

I have come to absolutely love snow days. They are some of my favorite days. The best feeling of days such as these is not the excitement of seeing the snow fall, not the pleasure of doing nothing, but the thrilling feeling I get when my phone buzzes with a text from school saying that classes are canceled for the day. Now that is what makes snow days the best. 

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Last week I went to a Newsboys concert with some friends from school. It was freakin' amazing! I helped set up for the concert and got $100 for doing it, too.  You would never realize how much work setting up a concert actually is. 

During a lull, I got talking with a guy that was also setting up. He said that he was from a drug recovery program. He was addicted to PCP and had been sober for 18 months. This program, he told me, lends guys out to help set up for concerts. Ricky said that he has helped out with Newsboys, Building 429, Zoegirl, and others. Ricky's personality is so much like Grandpa's that it is uncanny. Cracking jokes and whose whole goal is to make people laugh and help others. 

We got our own private concert during the sound check that happened after everything was set up. See those three screens? Chris and I put 2 of them together, and man are they hard to do. The canvas screen stretched across the frame and snapped down, which is just like putting our swimming pool cover on out pool. During the concert I was just waiting for some snaps to come undone. Haha. No worries, nothing happened. 

Michael Tate from DC talk came out and sang a few songs with the Newsboys. He was also the guy that sang the songs during the sound check. Amazing voice.   

They made smoke too. It was freezing, or so said Ricky. 

And just because the concert wasn't awesome enough, they had a platform for the drums that rose up and revolved! Amazing! 

And at the end of the night, no screens fell apart. Success! 

125 dollars a day

So what do you do the night before an exam? 

I have found plenty to do.

Youtube magic school bus, check facebook, replay newsboys songs, clean my room, make my bed, do my laundry, read blogs, calculate the cost of being at school next year only if they don't change the price of tuition, think about and pick my favorite harry potter movie out of the three that I have seen so far, listen to my suite mate and her boyfriend have sex in the next room, look at the holes in the wall and try to come up with a good story on why I didn't turn in the pink sheet with the information that i didn't make that hole, think about what would happen if I never found a guy to marry, dust my furniture (whaa? I never do that!), try not to cut from the stress of the exam tomorrow, wonder why there are people running up and down my hall, think about studying for the exam tomorrow, think about the tour I will give at the open house on saturday, and so, so, so many more things. 

Now, I have to pose this question, why?  

No, not why my suite mate is having sex in the next room, not why I dusted when i never ever do, not even why the heck am I calculating the cost of being at school next year, or even this year for that matter. 

But, why am I procrastinating on studying? 

Doesn't one procrastinate on things they don't want to do, such as cleaning up the dog poop, cleaning the mold off of the sink (okay, okay, its not quite mold yet..), telling a friend something that you don't want to tell them and they don't want to hear? 

I want to be in school, yes? 

Of course I do. I want to get a degree in nursing, I want to help people, I want to make them smile in the tough times, I want to do something meaningful, I want to do nursing. 

So why do I procrastinate on studying when I want good grades in my classes to pass them?

Why do I procrastinate on studying when those tests will lead me to my degree then to my job? 

Why do I procrastinate of studying when it is costing me $125 a day to be at this college? 

Yeah, I don't know either. And the only thing this post did was make me procrastinate more. Back to the grind stone, back to chemistry and microbiology for me.