(no subject)
Malady time: I caught severe bronchial pneumonial plague of death syndrome the minute my volunteer shift was over, and as of right now, I've survived the cough of rattly death and entered a headal cloggage extravaganza. This, despite having taken extra precautions about suiting up as indicated by warning stickers on patients' doors.
Volunteering on Friday went well. Basically over the course of four hours, I go in to about 8 or so rooms in both the geriatric and oncological wards. I offer to get stuff for the patients (and family members when applicable), I do little physical and/or mental exercises with them, I basically just frikkin' chat with them. When I can understand what they're saying. And when I can't, I just do my best to be some sunshine. And I make notes in their folders, proudly realizing that some observations turn out to make quite a difference.
Food for thought to all y'all: as infuriating as they can be in day to day life encounters, I sure as hell hope I don't get deserted the minute my hill comes crumbling down on top of my head.
Also, someone died toward the end of my shift. Fortunately it wasn't someone I'd just been in to see. Much more fortunately, family members were there. I was shadowing a nurse's aide when it happened, and it felt weird, almost like I was working there, the way the family looked at me.
I guess excitement comes from being able to investigate and experience a hospital environment for so long, and weirdness comes from still not being a real part of it at all. Though I'm already acing all prep work involving Purell.
*
Had a fascinating conversation with my favorite companion-mind over lunch, about life, afterlife, religion, and spirituality. Seeing that steady life's-end stage like that for what was a relative long time for me just went and jumbled everything all up again. Having to accept the mind-boggling lunacy of the fact that an infinitely short conscious existence is judged as basis for entry to an infinitely long and vast forever, simply because of the original sin, well, that's exponentially been establishing itself as not my fucking bag.
*
I'm scared about classes, because even with very steady non-stop hard work over the last 2 holiday-induced three-day weekends, I am still only managing to fully cover 2.5 out of 4 subjects. I even made a frantic decision to drop physics and take it again this summer, as it is the subject I least need for the MCATs, given how frikkin' far beyond the basic formulas this class is going. Sadly, I missed the registration drop date.
*
When I conclude criticism or complaint with: "none of this remotely changes how much you mean to me," it is time to wake up and perspectivize.
Build up some soul. Don't be a windmill. Reach out and smile, because you know how good it feels from the other side.
Volunteering on Friday went well. Basically over the course of four hours, I go in to about 8 or so rooms in both the geriatric and oncological wards. I offer to get stuff for the patients (and family members when applicable), I do little physical and/or mental exercises with them, I basically just frikkin' chat with them. When I can understand what they're saying. And when I can't, I just do my best to be some sunshine. And I make notes in their folders, proudly realizing that some observations turn out to make quite a difference.
Food for thought to all y'all: as infuriating as they can be in day to day life encounters, I sure as hell hope I don't get deserted the minute my hill comes crumbling down on top of my head.
Also, someone died toward the end of my shift. Fortunately it wasn't someone I'd just been in to see. Much more fortunately, family members were there. I was shadowing a nurse's aide when it happened, and it felt weird, almost like I was working there, the way the family looked at me.
I guess excitement comes from being able to investigate and experience a hospital environment for so long, and weirdness comes from still not being a real part of it at all. Though I'm already acing all prep work involving Purell.
*
Had a fascinating conversation with my favorite companion-mind over lunch, about life, afterlife, religion, and spirituality. Seeing that steady life's-end stage like that for what was a relative long time for me just went and jumbled everything all up again. Having to accept the mind-boggling lunacy of the fact that an infinitely short conscious existence is judged as basis for entry to an infinitely long and vast forever, simply because of the original sin, well, that's exponentially been establishing itself as not my fucking bag.
*
I'm scared about classes, because even with very steady non-stop hard work over the last 2 holiday-induced three-day weekends, I am still only managing to fully cover 2.5 out of 4 subjects. I even made a frantic decision to drop physics and take it again this summer, as it is the subject I least need for the MCATs, given how frikkin' far beyond the basic formulas this class is going. Sadly, I missed the registration drop date.
*
When I conclude criticism or complaint with: "none of this remotely changes how much you mean to me," it is time to wake up and perspectivize.
Build up some soul. Don't be a windmill. Reach out and smile, because you know how good it feels from the other side.