The love-hate of New York
I love that I can get free stuff just off the street, or from the hallway because so many med students are moving out.
I call it the giving tree, because I was thinking the other day how I will probably stay here in Bard hall, without a kitchen, as long as I can find a piece of plywood or masonite to cut to fit over the bathroom sink, so I can set my rice cooker/steamer there when it comes.
Lo, and behold on the street near a dumpster…not only one piece, but several full sized, 4’x8’ sheets, the kind they use for protecting the floor when working on the interior of an apartment…and a little piece that was about 18” x 30” Perfect! Thanks NYC.
I hate that recycling is unheard of here, and that there is virtually no thought given to environmental issues (it’s tough being an earth day birthday baby) If I had a dime for every 99 cent umbrella from China that ends up on the street, in a garbage can, or in the gutter like some dead black bird with broken silver bones, all mangled up in the puddles…the count must be ~ ten thousand umbrellas I’ve seen so far (and I’ve only been here a week.)
Add that to the hundreds of mattresses, dressers, shelves, nightstands, small kitchen electrics, clothes—bags and bags of clothes that just go to the landfill. So sad—I know there are charities that could make good use of this stuff, too.
I hate that the water is bizarre here; for some reason (and, I'm talking about the bottled water) When I steep my tea, (bags I brought from home, so I know it’s the same tea) I can never get much tea out of the bag—I’m thinking of those chemistry experiments we did, where the water flows into the semi-permeable membrane to even out the concentration of solutes on both sides.
Does that mean that there’s so much particulate matter in the water that the water isn’t flowing into the teabag and making tea? Gah—that boggles the mind! (Where’s my water filter!) I can fill up my tea ball with Red Rooibos tea back home, and drink anywhere from 10 to 16 cups of tea out of it...I'm drinking tea all day long there. Here, I’m not even able to get one well-steeped cup.
I hate that no one smiles; no one. Not even the women. You are smiling away, and listening to them, and it’s as if someone has botoxed their entire face. Nothing. Paralyzed. We Cali people are like “damn, what’s UP with that!?” Anyway—as far as school goes,
I’m loving the hands on stuff, and I’m VERY happy that I volunteered at UCSF. The things I did/saw there really helped prepare me for the clinical setting. I think the hardest thing is probably talking to the patient. I’m shy by nature (shut up, I am!) and it’s hard, but I think of everyone in that situation as a friend/family member that I just haven’t met yet.
I think I have been exposed to enough hospital environments to know really what it is the person in that bed is feeling. I know how my mom felt about certain nurses (The ones that never listen to you, never smile at you, treat you like a slab of meat and a set of vitals to be documented) and how she felt about the ones with genuine care in their hearts. I’m going to try to remember this always. Everyone deserves dignity and respect, and everyone is a person, not a patient. They may be sick now, but they weren’t always, and I think a lot of people tend to see them as “cases.”
The sad thing is that the diagnosing and determining which diagnostic test to run is my favorite thing so far—It’s a lot like a puzzle, a riddle, and you have to solve it. They had us do a little role-playing game that was scripted with statistical data:
“AF presents and complains of sore throat. You observe he is jaundiced and has tenderness in the upper abdomen both left and right sides. You suspect inflammation of the liver and spleen. He has a fever of 101.3 and does not do recreational drugs/drink and is not on any prescribed medication.”
Then we had to take turns asking questions. It was kinda fun. I kept wondering how much of that a CRNA would do—I know there’s the interview before the procedure, but there’s definitely a General Nurse Practitioner bent to all of this they’re teaching us—I suppose it’s for that clinical portion of what we’re going to go through.
I’m finding that the program is very, very thorough, and they really want us to come out of here being the best damned nurses, doctors, dentists, etc around. In all, a very rigorous program. The skills lab was fun, though I suck at finding pulses. I can get the radial pulse, but the brachial pulse is tough (granted, the two nurses we were trying to get pulses on, probably had not ever passed up a Krispy Kreme) but the lung sounds! OH my word—how fun was that!? I LOVE listening to the lungs!
We have these super cool dummies. They can program them to have certain heart rates, systolic and diastolic blood pressure, any abnormality, etc. Then we got to the part where they were letting us listen to pneumonic lungs. Sounded exactly like someone blowing air through their milk with a straw. So freaky. The wheezing lungs sounded exactly like my father, who has emphysema, after climbing the stairs...like someone swallowed a whistle.
The gal that was paired up with me reminded me of my physics professor; tall, thin, red haired, very nice, quiet, smart…I liked her right off, but she couldn’t hear a damned thing. I kept saying, “Oooh…oh wow!” and then I’d pull my stethoscope away and say “try right there” and she’d look at me, with a worried look on her face that seemed to say “what’s going to happen if I say I can’t hear it?” and then she’d shake her head slowly like…”nope” I felt bad for her. She’ll get it eventually I’m sure. Maybe her stethoscope was turned to the bell side and she didn’t know it…a common mistake. I need more practice taking blood pressures. I’m thinking of setting up downstairs in the student study lounge:
FREE COOKIE!!!
(if you let me practice taking your vital signs)
We have a pretty nice lounge on the ground floor—way more swanky than our rooms to be sure! It looks like it used to be a ball room—way high ceilings, floor to ceiling windows with French doors leading to the balcony/terrace, a view of the Hudson river. There are nice maple tables all around, with new looking furniture; comfy modern chairs and couches with coffee and end tables—nice!
Our network printer is right outside so we can get our assignments right off the course web pages and print them out right there. We can print from anywhere to any printer. S'nice! We’re allotted 200 pages for the summer that we don’t have to pay for, (400 if we do double sided) and 700/1400 during the regular semester. That’s pretty nice. The only bummer is having to go downstairs to log into the printer so they’ll print out. But, my room is too small for any extraneous devices!
So, if anyone wants to send me anything (Cookies are always good, or even a postcard) my address is:
50 Haven Avenue #174, New York, NY, 10032
Better get to reading—I’ve got 4 chapters on respiratory physiology to brush up on (fortunately, I LOVE respiratory physio and find it a page turner!)
Love you all,
:D
Lisa
posted by sketchmonkey @ 8:12 PM
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