Nursing School blogs: week 1 and 2

Week one:


 My philosophy of nursing:  Well, it's a pretty basic food chain that starts with EMS.  Paramedics save patients, EMTs save paramedics.  In the hospital, doctors save patients, nurses save doctors.  

I originally thought about nursing as a second career after I retired from the fire service.  A cartilage tear in my wrist ended my fire service career early, but I had discovered emergency management, so I went to work for state emergency management for a while.  Unfortunately, working for the state doesn't really pay a living wage, so I had to find something else.  I went back to the original plan ... my fire service career was over, so I decided nursing school was next.  Nursing just feels like a good fit for me, especially emergency nursing.  Trauma, critical care, maybe even being a flight nurse ...  these things are exciting to me.

My problem is that I get rather attached to people.  I think working on the floor would be torturous, as I would get attached to people, and they would get selfish and die.  In the ER, you don't have to worry about that as much.  You see people for a few hours, and off they go.

To be serious for just a moment, I have just always felt drawn to helping people.  I want to be useful.  I want to make a difference in my little part of the world.  I may not be able to make a great impact on the entire world, but if a little kid is less scared, because I was able to make him smile a little, or a little old lady feels more comfortable surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an emergency room, then I have made a difference.  Too many people spend their lives trying to figure out what the world can do for them.  This is something I can do for the world. 

 

Michelle :)

Week two:

 I was taking a break from reading my nursing text and read a article a friend posted on Facebook about a firefighter who died while running the Chicago marathon, and how the Brotherhood of firefighters instantly came to his family's assistance, and I found I had a little something in my eye.  

Reflecting back on the Ethics portion of our reading (Chapter 3), I thought about one of the bigger things we need to be concerned with: not lying to our patients.  In the chapter, it mentions the nurse being there when a doctor give the news that a patient is going to die ... to explain the big words and what not.  

I am really concerned that I am not ever going to be able to maintain a professional detachment in those situations.  If I find something to be overly emotional or really, really sad, I'm gonna cry.  So, my question is: is that something I *should* try to control?  I'm not talking all blubbery and ridiculous, but my eyes are going to leak.  There will be tears.  It feels like, to me anyway, that maintaining a professional detachment and not allowing any tears in a really sad situation would be lying to my patient.  

Ok, well.  Now I'm thinking about all the patients I've had in the past in EMS and the ones that really impacted me, and now I kinda wanna cry.

In other news, absolutely no one I have cheered for has won their game in the playoffs this weekend.  I am declaring the NFL season officially dead to me and am looking forward to the Super Bowl party I will attending ONLY for the food and ridiculously awesome company I will be in.

Michelle :)

Well hey there!

Yeah.  So I am really bad at updating my blog.  I think you've all accepted this by now.  If you haven't been staying up to date with what's happening in my world, here's the latest:

I am no longer in Afghanistan!  I was accepted to the Nursing program at Tallahassee Community College and I started last week!  I got a job at Tallahassee Memorial Healthcare in the Transfer Center (we're basically dispatch for the hospital) and started that a couple of weeks ago.

One of the things we have to do during the first 8 weeks of nursing school is write a blog within the class about how things are going, so I figured I can copy and paste those over here, so you can be entertained with all that nonsense.

In other news, being home is awesome.  I'm crazy domestic and crap now ... I have a bread maker (thank you Sarah) and make bread all the damn time (sandwiches just taste better on homemade bread), I've made jam ... like real jam, better than the store bought stuff, and I cool at home WAY more than I used to, mostly because I need to save as much money as possible, since my job doesn't pay NEARLY as well as AFG did!  Haha.

Oh!  Coolest part about my job: I get to wear scrubs to work.  It's a lot like working in jammies.  SCORE!  I mean the helping people bit is nice and all, but working in jammies!  YAH!

Anywho ... the next post will be my week 1 and week 2 blogs for school.   I promise to try to try to be better about updating this thing! :)

What do you mean I haven't said anything since February??

Whoopsie.  I thought I had posted something in April.  Apparently I was wrong.  I am now residing at delightful Camp Dwyer in the lovely Helmand Province with a couple of boatloads of Marines.  Oh hells yeah!  But most blog sites are blocked by my company's stupid network, so I cannot post anything.  I am on the pay-for-play network at the moment, so this is just a quick post to let you know I am still alive.

I am going on R&R next week and will compose a couple of proper blog posts detailing the last few months.  Well, maybe not detail ... I'll summarize.

Kisses and hugs, love you mean it, bye!

An Entertaining Cast of Characters

People are interesting.  There is always something about them that makes them interesting.  Whether it is their personality, their past, the things that come out of their brains, or the way they see things, you can usually find something interesting in everyone.  Naturally, you have to have a little extra crazy in your DNA to want to come to Afghanistan for work, but that little extra crazy makes life fun here.

There is: Nate's carefree outlook on life that I admire and resent all at the same time; Jason's constant battle between liking being the nice guy that all the girls want and being the badass he thinks would be more fun; Lisa's odd desire to convince everyone that Arizona doesn't suck and that Tool is the best band ever in the history of music; Chris' neverending selection of stories about killing things and being a pimp; Jeff's cute way of being terrified of me (no idea why, I am mostly harmless, and I have a little crush on him, so I wouldn't hurt him anyway); Sean's way of being really odd, but really cool at the same time; Justin's ability to look menacing walking down the road, but when you talk to him, you just kinda wanna cuddle him, because he's awesome; the Chief's ability to make everything come back to the Air Force, even though we are working for the Army; Brian's tireless dedication to doing absolutely anything he can to make the lives of the soldiers here a little bit easier; Jim's undying love of telling us how to use the toilet properly; the Mayor, who gives great hugs; the LSO, who I hope will come back at some point so we can eat my queso (of course, I need Papa Bear (not my dad) to get to Wilson so he can get me some Tostitos first); Cute Soldier, who was fun to hang out with for a while; Papa Bear (again, not my dad), who is entertaining as hell and wisely teaches young Privates about mud angels; Nell, who is back home safe now, though I wish she was still my tentmate, because she would have killed the stupid chicks for me long ago; the entire fire department Mafia, who are awesome, but I think they could make us all disappear without a trace; that d-fac guy who memorizes everyone's last 4 when they sign in for meals ... although it might just be the girls; the other d-fac guy that seems to think it a personal affront when I ask for "just a little bit" of anything; Mr. Kim, the laundry supervisor who no one can understand, but is always friendly; Mike, who usually says, "Yup, we'll do that", before anyone can even ask; the short Sergeant Major I really want to pick up and cuddle, because he is so cute and little, though I suspect, he wouldn't appreciate as much as I think he should; the other Sergeant Major who I made laugh when I apologized for "Sir'ing" him, instead of "Sergeant Major'ing" him (my daddy raised me right, I Sir or Ma'am just about everyone); the 101st guys that taught me about the "Manchester" game (it didn't catch on in the fire department like I think it should have); the cute, clueless EOD guy that was helping us fix the internet (Um, that was me flirting with you ... duh); Steve, who, along with Jeff, made me ... *made* me ... look up chili corn dog in the Urban Dictionary; Fletcher, our own personal leprechaun, who could make the most stoic man laugh his ass off; Tali-Dan's mad ninja skills and apparent ability to be drunk, sunburned, and tattooed all at the same time; and so many more.

Of course, *I* think the most important people around here are the ones in camo that keep us safe.  I kind of wish I had the chance to get to know more of them, but then again, I'm not sure I could stay here and do my job if they all had names attached to their faces for me.  Sometimes I wonder how incredibly strong of a man the Chaplain must be.  He knows all his soldiers ... I'm not sure I could handle the pressure of knowing that any of them could be gone at any moment.

There are so many people here that bring such interesting and variety to the world.  It would be difficult to list them all, but suffice to say, they keep me entertained. 


Wow.  Three posts in one day ... hopefully this makes up for being absent for almost a month! :)

Outboard Motors, Lake and Rivers, and the Reality of War Zones

Sorry it has been so long since I posted.  I just keep forgetting.  The days all blend together these days, so I know it is about time for a vacation!  Only another 60-ish days!  Woohoo!

So on to the entertaining stuff.  Most days are pretty routine around here.  I am rudely awakened by the stupid chick that turns on her light at 5am, I put my sleep mask on, roll over and go back to sleep.  My alarm goes off at 7, I hit snooze a couple of times, roll out of bed around 7:30, go take a shower, get ready for work, drop my stuff off at work, go to the d-fac to grab a bowl of cereal and some milk, go back to the conex/office, and settle in for a day of mind-numbing ... uh ... work.  It's pretty uneventful most days.

Every now and then, we get a little excitement.  No new incoming to report since the first one, but outgoing is always fun, because it still freaks people out.  I have learned to tell the difference, but only after the first one has already gone.  One day, the camo folk decided it would be a nice time to install some more in-ground swimming pools in the area.  So all evening, we had outgoing.  Sometimes there would be a break between sets and they would announce over the base loud speaker that there was outgoing, before the next set.  Usually, we can't  understand a damn thing that comes out of the speaker.  Most of the time it is just too quiet.  Other times, I am pretty sure the guy making the announcements has the microphone actually in his mouth when he makes the announcements.  Well, it was a "microphone in the mouth" announcement kind of night.  We heard the siren part ... that's the "hey, we're about to say something that may affect your life" alert ... and then some garbled English.  We'll assume it was English, anyway.  When I heard the siren, I stuck my head out the door of the conex, so I could hear the announcement.  I heard the announcement, didn't understand it, and one of the boys said, "I'm pretty sure they just said we have outboard motors".  Naturally, we wondered where they were getting the boats, and then we heard the mortars.  Outgoing mortars sound totally different than outboard motors.  We chuckled, and realized they said "outbound mortars".  No boats, though they would have come in handy a few days ago.


So the mortars continued on until about midnight that night.  I was trying desperately to sleep, but after the mortars stopped, the construction started and continued until around 3am.  Good times.  Here's where it got funny.  Around 5am, Instead of being awakened by the stupid chick's light, I was awakened by the siren.  We can't hear what it says in the tent, but then I heard a boom.  "Ah, outgoing mortars", I thought to myself, as I rolled over and closed my eyes.  A couple of minutes later, a lot more outgoing mortars started leaving.  Then I heard a ruckus.  There are 9 women in my tent.  7 of the 9 freaked the hell out, grabbed their vests and helmets, and ran out to the bunker in a panic.  Security Lisa and I stayed in bed and yelled that they were outgoing, a couple of times.  Then I saw Lisa's feet hit the floor.  For a moment, I thought she was going out to the bunker too, and I was stunned, because I know she knows the difference between incoming and outgoing.  Instead, her feet walked into my room, and she came and laid down in my bed with me.  She curls up and says, "Why are they being SO LOUD?!"  I replied, "They're mortars, honey, they're always loud".  To which she replied, "Not them.  The stupid GIRLS.  I'm TRYING to sleep!"  SO we giggled about that for a little while, she went back to bed, and eventually, the rest of the girls came out of the bunker.  That still makes me laugh.


Along the same lines, Lisa and I had a fairly surreal conversation last night.  It went something like this:


KA-BOOM
Me: Hmmm ... that was a boom.
Lisa: Meh, it was just outgoing.
Me: No, that definitely wasn't outgoing.  Maybe a controlled det.
Lisa: Are you sure it wasn't outgoing?
Me: Definitely not outgoing, I felt the ground shake a little.  You don't feel that with outgoing from here.
Lisa: Yeah, you're right.  Maybe it was a controlled det.
Me: Yeah, either that or a bomb just outside the wire.
Lisa: Probably.  Definitely wasn't on the FOB though.
Me: Nah, it was too far away to be incoming.
A few seconds pass
Me: *laugh*
Lisa: What?
Me: Do you realize we just had a perfectly calm conversation about the source of an explosion that was close enough that we could feel it?
Lisa: *laugh* Yeah, I suppose we did.
Me: Is this bad?
Lisa: Probably.


And that, my friends, is the reality of war zones.  If you are paying attention, you learn to distinguish the sources of the various ka-booms and ka-blowies pretty quickly.  I also recognize the difference between a forklift or a crane setting a metal conex down roughly and a ka-boom.  Not everyone has that down yet.  It's pretty funny.  Most of the time, when we hear a ka-boom, we get up, go look outside for the cloud, and then go about our business.  Though, I suppose that once things pick up around here, probably starting next month, we'll stop looking for the cloud and start heading for the bunker.  That'll be fun.  And there will  be better stories!


And then the rain came.  It has rained here before, but it was just sprinkles, just enough to tease me with humidity, and then it dried up and went away.  This wasn't like that.  It rained a lot. For a while.  Turns out, our base is built in a lovely dry river bed.  Well, dry most of the time river bed.  We do, in fact, have a rainy season.  And it hit us with force the end of last week.  It rained for about two days straight.  There were very few places around her that weren't flooded.  Highway 1, just outside the base, was at a standstill for a while, because it was flooded.  Super good times.  So what did we do?  We're the fire department ... we pumped most of the water off the FOB.  Yup.  For two days in a row, we were pumping water out of everywhere.  The guys were pretty damn awesome.  They kept the camo folks tents from flooding and their generators from being waterlogged, so they could come back from missions to warm, dry tents.  They pumped water out of the mortar pits so we could make more in-ground swimming pools, and fill them up with water!  There were a couple of places, I swear to the gods, you would have actually been able to kayak.  I think you might have been able to make it around about half of the base, before you had to get out of your kayak and reposition to another lake.  The good part about the whole experience?  I finally got to wear my rainboots.  They are so awesome!  And loads of people looked at me funny.  Well, funnier than normal. :)


Here are some photos from the flooding:

We pumped an estimated 1/2 a million gallons of water out of the FOB.  Go us!  And by us, I mean the boys, because I was sitting in my warm, dry conex office watching movies.  Well, except for the field trip I took out into the expansion after dark to bring the chief some glow sticks and his reflective vest.  That was fun.  Squishing my way around a couple of acres in the dark, in the rain.  Good times. :)


Anywho, this post is probably long enough for now.  It doesn't have the entertaining cast of characters, as promised in the last short post, but perhaps that needs to be another post! :)


So rest assured, I am alive and well.  Things aren't all that bad around here at the moment, but as always, the world can go to shit at any moment!  Live life on the edge!

It Hasn't Been A Month Yet ...

But I suppose it has been very nearly a month since my last blog post.  Whoopsie.  I find that as things have settled into a routine, I forget about things that are non-routine, such as updating my blog.  I'll try and work that into the routine. :)

So today I am going to write a pretty long post that will include:

Outboard motors
Surreal conversations
An entertaining cast of characters
Funny things about war zones
And a lot of water.


This is just a post to tell you that I am writing a bigger post.  Now you can be annoyed that this one isn't long enough. :)

Another Meeting

Meetings around here are AWESOME! Invariably, how to use the toilet will come up, as will a number of other random things. There is video of the toilet speech today, but the site manager said I couldn't post any photos of him, and especially no video. So, sad for you, my dear readers. All 3 or 4 of you. No video of the toilet speech.

And sadly, there wasn't as much masturbation talk as one would have hoped. Please don't get me wrong, I understand the epic seriousness of how wrong it is for a man to be whacking off in a sink in the women's toilet trailer. But if you don't laugh around here, you'll go NUTS. And in my case, it's not that long of a trip. Some would say, I've already taken that trip. And, hell, they might be right. But anyway.

Oh, and then we had a meeting after the meeting. But this one was just for people with vaginas. Not people with sand in their vaginas, because that could be anyone. Actual cooters. Apparently, there has been too much cattiness and it needs to stop. A good portion of the things mentioned in the communal living rant were discussed at the post-meeting meeting. The lone female supervisor has been designated, for lack of a better term, our 'den mother'. I had no idea I was coming to a flippin' boarding school for crazy junior high chicks. It's insane how catty some of these chicks are. It's mostly in the other tent though, and I'm happy to keep it that way. One of the girls wants management to put a lock on the women's toilet and shower trailers and give us all keys. WTF? How are all the military girls, who are mandated to use the DynCorp shower, due to Afghan Army asshats being, well, asshats, supposed to get in? Keys for everyone? And then when someone loses a key, rekey the lock and make 6000 more keys? Hi, welcome to Howz-e Madad Locks 'R' Us. Oh wait ... THAT DOESN'T EXIST! Cipher locks were suggested, but shot down by Den Mother, because the combo will get out, which is true enough, but it would make some of the girls feel better. Whatever. If I catch a boy in the girl's toilet or shower unit, then I'm punching him, taking his badge, and dragging him by the ding-ding to the site manager. Done and done.

Anywho, so no excellent "where to masturbate" stories ... just don't do it in the sink in the women's restroom. Hmmm ... now that I think about it, they never specifically forbade masturbating in the sinks in the *men's* toilet trailer.

'Til next time, stay safe, know where your nearest bunker is, and don't walk around with open-toed shoes ... you'll get written up.