Should I have a savior?

So yet another three months have gone by without a post. I'd say it feels like three months this time though. A lot has happened: moving to atlanta, getting a crap van-driving job, getting a bad-ass hospital job, and just generally rocking life. What made me think to write a blog this morning was an issue that has recently come up. I'm currently thinking of going on a medical abroad trip. I would say "mission," but usually missions imply carrying a bible around asking if people have accepted Jesus as their savior. Well, frankly, I hate those people. And I don't want to be one of them. Therefore, it's a non-religious medical excursion in a deprived country. Why? Primarily because I think it would help me get into PA school. Is it worth it? Yes. Why? Because it'd be an incredible experience and I wouldn't mind going on a two week vacation doing what I love, which is helping people. Now, I went to my boss, my real boss, the director of the ER, or equivalent, and told her about my plans. I told her I wanted to look at the vacation schedule for next year to see when would be the best time for me to take two weeks off to go on a (and I called it) mission trip. Why? Because we're in the bible belt. Nobody can say anything about anything if it has to do with something doing with God or whatever. Anyways, I asked her if the hospital would be interested in sponsoring me on my trip (so I wouldn't have to pay). She said no. However, she asked me if I was involved with any churches. I told her some line about my brother being a youth minister back home, which is true, mostly. But she told me her church, a Baptist church, does missions all the time in South America and invited me to a service. Now, I've got two options here. I could go to church services WITH MY BOSS and possibly get a free ride to Costa Rica (holla) and get involved with the churchies, or I could fork over the 1-3 GRAND to go on a trip next summer minus the donations I get from family and friends. My question to you, the reader, is: is it unethical to go to a church and "accept christ into my life" for a free ride to Costa Rica? Yes, it sounds bad. However, if I were to go through with this and let them "save me," wouldn't it make a bunch of people happy? So potentially, it could be a win-win. Even a win-win-win, because I'd be helping people whilst I was down there. Allison won't give me a yes or no answer, but I can tell she thinks it's unethical. I somewhat agree. I think my family would frown upon me. So I suppose I won't do it. If I went to the church with my boss though, I'd be GUARANTEED to get those weeks off. What if I told her I liked the service and would like to continue attending, but I still have my own beliefs? Or I could just front the whole thing. I could pray all day long for a trip to Costa Rica.

bidding farewell

I can't believe it's been nearly three months since i've posted last. Time really does fly by. this past year has been unbelievably fast though. I can't believe it's already been twelve months since allison moved up here, and probably about eight since we've seriously started talking about moving down to atlanta. today is officially the day that i become a Georgian. I guess we don't move into the apartment until early tomorrow, but i leave today.

last night i went out as a last goodbye with some of my closest friends i've ever had. it's funny, i've been living in knoxville for the past eight years, which is longer than i've ever lived anywhere. in the past, before knoxville, i got used to leaving people; used to leaving friends behind, the usual "oh, yeah, keep in touch," and "yeah i'll be back to visit," you know, speaking half-hearted and whatever. you know you never really go back to visit somewhere you worked at. or if you do, it's only like once, but very rarely if somebody leaves a company, they don't return, or so i've learned. getting back to it, yeah, i've become pretty callous to the whole relocation experience. not this time though. this time is different. this time i've been struggling a lot with leaving and saying my goodbyes. i know i'll be back, and so do they, but it'll just be different. it's pretty hard to think about really. i've been going through an emotional rollercoaster the past day or so. i think about who i've got waiting for me down there and it makes a lot of it better. i have no reservations about the move, the future, and what's to come, i guess at this point i'm so used to the way things are that change doesn't seem like the right thing. but it is. it's time to grow up. that's what i keep thinking whenever i start to feel a little down. it doesn't really help that much but as long as i realize it's the right thing, i know it'll be ok. hell, allison is gonna be the pro at putting up with me and all this, she went through the same thing last year. i've got a good rock to lean on down there, and i'm pretty lucky to have her. and i've got some of the best friends that i'll be leaving behind in knoxville. but i'll be back. and that's not me being half-assed. i can honestly say that i can't live without you guys, and i don't plan to. i love you all.

it's funny that one of the only things that gets me motivated enough to write one of these is when a friend writes one. although i spend a majority of the days thinking about things like: 1)how you can be an asshole to somebody and they still find you to be the nicest person they've come in contact with, 2)trying to understand why some people REFUSE to obey a doctors orders, even when it comes to something as simple as "don't drink more than two bottles of water a day," and 3) the best way to handle someone who only says "shoot me, let me die," and that's what i'll talk about today.

so... people get old, right? unless you're ben button. or one of the lost boys from neverland. but since nobody is, i'm right. we get old. with age comes all kinds of countless problems. life is like a game of 52 card pickup, except instead of numbers and 2D people, it's diseases and problems with (usually) one's immune system. on tap today was an elderly woman with no "serious" problems. when i say "serious" i mean that she had no direct illness that was slowly killing her, nor did she have any type of incapacitating disease that would promote the onset of such. this woman recently had surgery. now yes, we all know that old people and surgery don't mix most of the time due to infections, slow healing due to a decreased immune response, and the threat of anesthesia on such a fragile body. this lady was lucky. she was healed and healthy (for a near 100-year-old) with a good set of vitals. she did however have her mind working against her.

the only audible sounds coming from this woman were groans of pain. very few structured sentences could be made out. the primary phrase coming from her mouth however, was "shoot me." now imagine being in a room. just you and someone's grandmother (or great grandmother) whom you don't know. your job is to keep her as comfortable as possible for twenty minutes. during the entire time, all she says to you is "shoot me." her eyes staring into yours, her arms too old and frail to grab you by the collar to catalyze the action. she just looks at you and says "shoot me."

now, we've all thought about issues like euthanasia and such. people have their beliefs and their morals. there are pros and cons to each, hell it's a never-ending merry-go-round of why/why nots. but what do you do when someone truly wants to die? my belief is that someone whom has been diagnosed with any sort of dementia, Alzheimer's, or bipolar disorder should not be allowed to request their life to be ended. personally i feel that if someone is not of sound mind, as sad as it sounds, most of their rights should be taken away. there i said it. but if you've got somebody whose mind is altered, albeit terminally, they should not be able to make life-altering decisions. imagine your craziest drinking story: did you make a decision that probably wasn't the best idea? i feel like a body with an unsound mind is similar to that.

so what did i do when this woman asked me to shoot her? i did my job. i made her as comfortable as i could whilst bringing her home, simply ignoring the question. "can i raise your head more?" "are you hot or cold?" "do you need more oxygen?" it's got to be frustrating living a life where everyday all you do is wait for death to pick you out of the crowd. i hope that if i ever make it to be that age, i keep enjoying life, regardless of how miserable i am, because that's all we get.

this week has been nice. i've only stayed over at work a cumulative total of about an hour and fifteen minutes. holla. it feels nice actually getting off work on time. lately it seems that the dispatchers have paid more attention to the actual schedules of the people that are actually out there in the thick of the money-making.

i found out the other day that an ambulance ride costs upward of $600. $600 is like a flat fee. after that, it's $7 per mile that we transport. that means that for that patient i took to the border of kentucky the other day, his bill ran somewhere around $1000. for a glamorous taxi. now the $600 doesn't cover anything else. for each patient, we use four pairs of gloves (one loading and one unloading x 2 people) and something the billing department calls an "infection pack," which is two sheets that go over the stretcher to make sure none of the patient's poo and/or filth gets transferred into another patient's poo and/or filth. then there's oxygen. i believe there is just one flat fee for oxygen use, which means that if you are on 2L by nasal cannula (the little nose things they wrap around your ears in the hospital), you get charged the same as someone whom required 12L. now that's about the end of it on a BLS truck. unless you get suctioned, which is another charge (charge for the verb: suction, plus the canister, suction tip and tubing).

now most of the time, insurance will pay for ambulance rides... as long as they are necessary. however, i have had countless patients need an ambulance because, and i quote, "could not sit for an extended period of time," so they needed to lay down. i believe that if you cannot sit for an extended period of time, and that you MUST lie down, you shouldn't be going anywhere. truth is, when we put someone on a stretcher, we lift their heads up (also called semi-fowlers position) so the center of gravity is basically the same as if they were sitting. with an angled head rest, you've got the straight downward force of gravity plus the half of your body at the 45 degree angle sliding down the headrest. if you don't understand, i'll draw it for you.

i don't buy it for a minute that someone absolutely cannot sit for an extended period of time. i don't buy it, and neither will the insurance company, which brings me back to my blog that i wrote some time ago; people think they're entitled. maybe it's not that serious. perhaps some people just really want an ambulance. but don't think for one minute that medicare will front the bill because you would rather lie down on a stretcher than sit on a bus.

I went to dinner last night with two of my favorite ladies in the world. One is the undisputed champion, the other is Erin. Erin and I met my first year at ut in gen chem 1. We were in the same discussion section so it was easy for us to study together for quizzes and tests, and since she lived on campus, we could study and/or hang out with ease. In the beginning, it was always me helping her. She would stay up all night studying the night before the test, I would go to bed early.

As time went on, my study habits tended to falter more and more; my absolute NEED for financial independece led me to carrying a full course load while working full time after school. My grades suffered and my social life took a hit. Jump ahead two years later. Erin gets accepted to pharmacy school, I do some soul searching and realize that maybe medical school isn't right for me. I decide maybe I'll work my way up the ladder via EMT school, go on to become a paramedic, then get into management. Yeah well that ship isn't sailing. Being an EMT can be very rewarding at times; it makes you realize that something as little as holding someones hand can make a world of difference. But I don't feel that chouffering people around town is going to keep me satisfied for the rest of my life. Neither is sitting at a desk. I want to make people better, not keep them alive.

Last night I was sitting at dinner with two of my favorites, talking to Erin about the struggles of pharmacy school and the like. Then the conversation came to me. What are my plans? I graduated ut with a 2.86 gpa in microbiology. My overall goal is to somehow get into pa school. Ever since I can remember, I've been periodically checking the statistics of PA school applicants, most of which have gpas of around 3.5, just to see what they look for. I told Erin about the obstacles I would have to overcome before I even thought of applying: retake classes, shadow doctors, volunteer. All of these things I would need to do to make me as similar as possible to the people who were getting in.

The next thing Erin said hit me like a bolt of lightning: "you know what you want. You've been working in the medical field the past four years. You've seen the different areas, you've tried other things. Now you know that that is what you want to do. That's what they look for." I realize now that I have something that most other people don't have: experience. I've got four years of patient contact experience. You can't put a price on that.

I will be taking my GRE exam within the next year. I've started to look for PAs to shadow. Through all of these years of my grades suffering due to the amount of hours I put in at various area hospitals, finally (hopefully) it will pay off.

Posted from my iPod

i remember moving from atlanta in 2001 to tennessee. i left behind the best friends i ever had. i knew most of them for a total of three months before i left. for the next three summers, all seven of them would come and stay at my parents house. all of them. so it was eight of us. one room. one bed. no, no orgies or anything cuh-razy like that. we really were good kids. extremely good. probably too good. hell, i didn't know what masturbating was until the end of sophomore year of high school. each of us can probably be classified by our parents as "the easy ones."

as consecutive visits rolled by, and the four-day weekend of their visit was over, i remembered how close these seven people were to me, even if we really didn't talk that much. these days, some of us keep in touch better than others, but one person stands out in particular. after the first summer of their visit, the night of their departure from the house, i sat with my mom and told her, "i can honestly see myself marrying someone like Allison." my mom, realizing how naive and young i am, simply told me, "or someone you haven't met yet." she was right. years went on, the group stopped coming as we got older, but we still did our best to keep in touch. and we did. nearly ten years later i realize i have that person i've been looking for. i guess you never know. but i do. i can honestly say that i've found my soulmate; the one i want to be with. and it feels awesome. i don't feel like anybody else could possibly understand what it is exactly that i'm feeling. i am completely in love with my absolute best friend.

i think it's a pretty rare thing to find someone like that; someone who knows you in and out. i feel like relationships would be so much more successful if people would just stop looking so hard. i suppose that's what they say though: "you find the one when you're not looking," or whatever. for all of those people that have "the worst luck" with dating, quit trying so hard. a concern with dating a close friend of many years tends to be risking the friendship; you don't want to put your friendship with that person on the line. that's understandable. however, why risk an entire life of never knowing? if things start to get weird, stop before you're ahead. i think a big mistake is people feel it getting weird, but end up saying "screw it" and you know, screwing them anyways. don't make that mistake. wait for it. don't rush into a relationship with a good friend without testing the waters first. i just hate to see people unhappy with their relationships or unsuccessful in trying to make one work with someone they don't match up with. that's the end of my relationship advice. you can now call me delilah.

I realize that for the past couple days I've been on hiatus, and I apologize for that. Hopefully I didn't disappoint any of my one followers.

Tonight I told my partner that I would be switching shifts. Originally I was going to let the bitch figure it out for herself on Monday when she came into work and sat around for an hour before realizing I wasn't coming in and I therefore wouldn't be working with her anymore. I like to think of it as a form of natural selection, or natural something. I just wanted her to figure it out on her own. Instead, she blindsided me with it: "so are you switching trucks?". Dammit. Now due to my incessant rage that exponentially multiplies itself like a strand of E. coli in nutrient rich agar at 98 farenheit, one would think i'd come right out and tell her "yes, because of your dumb ass." Instead, all I could get out was "yeah" before she jumped to the next question on the interogators list. "Is it because of me?" Fuck. Now don't get me wrong, I cannot stand this chick. However, she has no idea that everyday I wish she would hit somebody while she's driving ergo she'd be fired, vis-a-vis I wouldnt have to work with her anymore. But instead of letting out a "hell yeah," a "no" came out. Why? Why do some people find it so hard to tell a complete moron how much you can't stand them? Ask anyone, I'm not afraid to hurt someones feelings. Perhaps I do have a heart though, even though that was never really the question. The real trouble I'm having is trying to figure out why day after day I put up with her bullshit yet I can't go off on her. Literally, everyday I feel like exploding with all the stories I tell everybody else to make fun of her. Do I feel bad? Maybe I feel bad that she really is THAT stupid. But why, instead of confronting people with the problems they have with them, do people bottle it up, and wait to get home to let it out? Everybody does it. Originally I thought it was a personality thing, but maybe it's just the fact that people don't want to be involved in confrontations when they aren't necessary. Who knows.

Posted from my iPod

goodbye dummy

Today I received the best news since I've been employed at my job. Today my supervisor told me that I would be switching partners. Now before I get too far into this, I'd like to describe some situations that I've had to deal with:

Imagine being in a car. A two person car. All day. Everyday. With your mother. You love your mother right? She always means the best; gives you advice, tells you how to do things better and more efficiently (in her eyes), is quick to judge your decisions that don't fall in line with hers, and willingly tries to open up debates for each of you to explain to each other why you feel the way you do. In this case, I hate my "mother." My "mother's" name is Tammy. Tammy doesn't get it. Tammy doesn't understand that I despise her. It doesn't click in her thick always-has-a-smile-on-her-face skull that the reason why I don't talk to her while we're on the road for 12 hours is because I don't like her. She constantly asks me questions while I'm sitting there reading like, "do you want the heat on?" or "you want to listen to the radio?" while she is in the process of turning them on. If I wanted the radio on, I would turn it on. If i wanted the heat on, I'd turn the heat on. If you want it on, by all means, turn the damn thing on, but don't ask me whether or not I want something done when you are in the process of doing it or are going to do it anyways.

Now, going back to the smile. It's one of those smiles that looks like a face someone would make when they're trying to decide which of two things to choose. You know, you're eyes squint, and you've got a stupid stupid smirk on your face. However, the only things she's trying to decide between is which way would work best in pissing me off.

The lady has a spoon on her swiss army knife and brags about it. She just spent $500 on a butchers block and spent an entire day calling all of her friends and family to tell them. She still talks to her 26 year old son like he's ten. She always says "my pleasure" instead of "you're welcome." She calls everyone "my dear." She tells me how things "should" be done, when in fact, she is completely wrong. She thinks dialysis clinics are cold so patient's circulation increases (think about it). She constantly runs into my heel with the stretcher while I'm walking in front of her. She drills me on issues of abortion, healthcare, and religion, when the only counter-point she offers is some buzz-word/slogan she heard on some fox news show.

She, my friends, is a moron. Needless to say, I'm out of hell. I've done my time. The lady has never been able to keep a partner for more than two months. I've made it two and a half. Call me a hero, call me what you will. I'm not telling the bitch I won't be working with her anymore. She'll figure it out when next monday rolls around and I'm not there to absorb all of the useless and pointless incorrect bullshit that she has to offer.

New Shift: M-F 6:30a to 4:30p
CAN'T WAIT!

I'm starting to get a hang of using a keyboard that is about two and a half square inches to write blogs longer than some essays I wrote in college. I feel like I've reverted back to the seventh grade by only being able to use my right index finger while my others slack off and watch. It's like a construction site in the palm of my hands.

I figure this blog is a good way to remember what goes on and how I'm feeling on different days because my memory is terrible. Last night was another one of those nights I absolutely can't get enough of. It probably could have been better but some people find charging their phone a lot harder to do than most others. For the past couple years I've been practicing and enhancing my social life by sitting at home. There are few things I like more on a Friday or Saturday night than grabbing a six pack, plopping on my favorite chair that is terrible for my posture in my boxers, and drinking while playing videogames over the Internet with my closest friends. Am I a hermit? Maybe. Loser? Probably. Yet with this type of lifestyle, I've managed to keep in touch with friends relocated to Wyoming, and meet people who happen to be an heir to a successful mortuary somewhere in rural Oklahoma. And I can do all of this in the comfort of my own apartment. Why go to a bar and deal with a bunch of conceited douche bags looking for a) a dirty skank whom hopefully has the clap or b) a fight. If I don't want to deal with somebody, one simple press of the button shuts their prepubesent ass up. I suppose if I went to a bar there wouldn't be kids around, but still. Although I have probably spent weeks of my life in front of my tv, controller in hand, I can honestly say that I don't regret it.

Bring on the weeks to come.

Posted from my iPod

As I sit here waiting for my pager to start going off to pick up the next "poor soul" who is too lazy to walk so their insurance can pay for the ambulance ride to and from dialysis, I start to realize that there are people these days that don't give a damn about anything. They don't give a damn that the reason this country is the way it is today is because the attitude of people has gone from "give me liberty" to "give me." People think they are entitled to take advantage of the system. These people are the reasons why a lawyer is a word in the English language, the reason why a car accident can be 40% your fault, the reason why taxes need to raise to pay for girl-from-the-block whom still is unemployed yet REFUSES to take birth control, and the reason why obesity is so prevalent.

I understand that there is a fine line between genetics and stupidity, but I have zero sympathy for someone who weighs 350 pounds, needs an oversized stretcher for the ride home from the hospital (abdominal pain) and is placed in a bed with a bag of potato chips clipped on the side rail.

No sympathy.

I don't like talking to people about religion because I am extremely stubborn in my beliefs as I'm sure defendant is equally so. I do, however, love acting like I know what I'm talking about to sweet old ladies on the verge of finding out the truth with all that mess. I don't think it's right for someone in that condition to start asking questions and having doubts. It would be like telling a four year old there's no Santa the day before Christmas. I'm not all about that. I smile, nod, wonder how long it's going to be until I'm at the point in my life where I actually love my job, and keep on truckin. I'll let people have their fun; convert me, open my eyes, "omg you are so right," and get the good feeling people get when you help another person. I'll be the one looking you square in the face thinking, "you have no idea and neither do I."

Posted from my iPod