Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Graf 11
The one thing that that was a thorn in my side during this course was the dreaded I-search. I had a horrific time trying to find something worth writing about, and ended up settling on finding the perfect job for me. I think that I would have been happier with a different subject, but my first three ideas didn't pan out and I was stressed about submitting my subject too late. Actually, to this day I still can't figure out what subject I could have come up with that would have been better. One subject I thought of and turned down involved researching the best solution to our vacant house in Hudson, either sell it and pay capital gains or try renting it for a few more years. The subject seemed too dry for me. Thank God the I-search is finished, and I did learn a thing or two while doing it.
Course evaluation
I have really enjoyed this course, except for the I-search project. I was very nervous before this course began in August. I HATED english in high school! It was never about what you wanted to write - it was always what the teacher wanted to read. I was pleasantly surprised that this course would be different, and even more surprised when the words came out of me to create all the grafs, essays, prompts and freestyles. This course was definitely worth the time and money. For one thing, it's required, but also through this class I discovered that I could write. The only thing I didn't like was the mandatory I-search, with it's picky formats and sections. That was one of the things I hated about high school english, but it's over, and I made it through relatively unscathed. Now I can sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the holiday season.
Final - cause essay
I've had my share of disastrous times. As a five year old, I fell asleep each night listening to my stepfather beat the shit out of my mother. Years later, I was devastated when she threw out my second stepfather, the only father figure that I'd ever had. Then there was the year that we were so poor we lived off spaghetti and ketchup and macaroni and milk. None of these hard times, however, prepared me for the horrific year of 2002. The following caused that year, which started out ok in January, to become a complete disaster by June.
In February of 2002, my husband and I made plans to fly to Colorado to see my aunt and uncle. Aunt Tae and Uncle Arlie never had kids of their own. They always treated me like I was their daughter. After years of struggling financially, Paul and I finally had the funds saved to go out and visit them. I called Uncle Arlie with the news and to find out what dates would work for them. He surprised me by being hesitant, then gave me the news -- Aunt Tae had been battling breast cancer for years, and it had now spread to her brain. I was horrified -- my beautiful Japanese aunt was dying. We continued with the plans to see her and Uncle Arlie. Unfortunately, she passed away five days before we arrived in Colorado.
In addition to this, my beloved grandmother had been placed in a nursing home. She had dementia and Alzheimer's and had fallen and broken her hip. A proud and independant woman, she had given up, and spent her days lying listlessly in bed. Her sister and former roommate, Aunt Flo, had been placed in a nursing home in Montana, where she was dying. I was heartbroken, as these two women did so much for me when I was a child, from taking me on trips to the White Mountains to shopping for school clothes that my mother couldn't afford to buy me. Aunt Flo passed away during our trip to Colorado. She was cremated and her ashes were sent to Maine to be buried in June.
After we got back from Denver, we heard that Auntie, Paul's great aunt, had taken a turn for the worse. She died in early May at a nursing home in Lincoln. After most of our grief had passed, we figured that since bad things happen in threes, we were off the hook for a while. Then, May 10, I got a call from my friend Donna. We both had boys in 3rd grade. She told me that one of the boys' classmates, Marissa Pinkham, had been killed in an atv accident. I was stunned and heart-sick. Marissa was a sweet little girl who loved sports and reading. No child deserves to die before their parents, and no parents should have to bury an innocent child. Paul and I, along with many other residents of Glenburn spent Mother's Day at Marissa's wake. I will never forget seeing that little girl lying in her casket, her face caked with makeup to hide the head injuries. Nor will I ever forget the wail of grief her mother let out at the funeral, as they were lowering Marissa's casket into the ground. That sound will haunt me forever.
A few weeks later, my cousin Eva flew to Maine from Texas with her husband and two baby girls. I really believe that Nana was holding out to see them before she died. She passed on the following day. My mother called me early that Saturday morning to tell me that Nana had died the previous evening. Paul and I went to the funeral home so I could say goodby to my nana. She was laying on a stainless steel stretcher covered with a sheet. I hugged her and kissed her cold cheeks, telling her I loved her and would never forget all that she'd done for me. We buried her ashes at the family plot in Augusta the following week, and went back three days later to bury Aunt Flo's urn.
The year slowly got better, but not until after another death. Krystal, another 3rd grader, lost her father to a heart attack. He died while working on the garage he was building for his wife and daughter. In August, my son's beloved cat went into the woods and never made it home, two weeks after the same thing happened to my cat. Hopefully, we put all of our bad luck into one year, and we should be safe for a while. If the saying is true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, then Paul, the boys and I should be as tough as nails by now!
In February of 2002, my husband and I made plans to fly to Colorado to see my aunt and uncle. Aunt Tae and Uncle Arlie never had kids of their own. They always treated me like I was their daughter. After years of struggling financially, Paul and I finally had the funds saved to go out and visit them. I called Uncle Arlie with the news and to find out what dates would work for them. He surprised me by being hesitant, then gave me the news -- Aunt Tae had been battling breast cancer for years, and it had now spread to her brain. I was horrified -- my beautiful Japanese aunt was dying. We continued with the plans to see her and Uncle Arlie. Unfortunately, she passed away five days before we arrived in Colorado.
In addition to this, my beloved grandmother had been placed in a nursing home. She had dementia and Alzheimer's and had fallen and broken her hip. A proud and independant woman, she had given up, and spent her days lying listlessly in bed. Her sister and former roommate, Aunt Flo, had been placed in a nursing home in Montana, where she was dying. I was heartbroken, as these two women did so much for me when I was a child, from taking me on trips to the White Mountains to shopping for school clothes that my mother couldn't afford to buy me. Aunt Flo passed away during our trip to Colorado. She was cremated and her ashes were sent to Maine to be buried in June.
After we got back from Denver, we heard that Auntie, Paul's great aunt, had taken a turn for the worse. She died in early May at a nursing home in Lincoln. After most of our grief had passed, we figured that since bad things happen in threes, we were off the hook for a while. Then, May 10, I got a call from my friend Donna. We both had boys in 3rd grade. She told me that one of the boys' classmates, Marissa Pinkham, had been killed in an atv accident. I was stunned and heart-sick. Marissa was a sweet little girl who loved sports and reading. No child deserves to die before their parents, and no parents should have to bury an innocent child. Paul and I, along with many other residents of Glenburn spent Mother's Day at Marissa's wake. I will never forget seeing that little girl lying in her casket, her face caked with makeup to hide the head injuries. Nor will I ever forget the wail of grief her mother let out at the funeral, as they were lowering Marissa's casket into the ground. That sound will haunt me forever.
A few weeks later, my cousin Eva flew to Maine from Texas with her husband and two baby girls. I really believe that Nana was holding out to see them before she died. She passed on the following day. My mother called me early that Saturday morning to tell me that Nana had died the previous evening. Paul and I went to the funeral home so I could say goodby to my nana. She was laying on a stainless steel stretcher covered with a sheet. I hugged her and kissed her cold cheeks, telling her I loved her and would never forget all that she'd done for me. We buried her ashes at the family plot in Augusta the following week, and went back three days later to bury Aunt Flo's urn.
The year slowly got better, but not until after another death. Krystal, another 3rd grader, lost her father to a heart attack. He died while working on the garage he was building for his wife and daughter. In August, my son's beloved cat went into the woods and never made it home, two weeks after the same thing happened to my cat. Hopefully, we put all of our bad luck into one year, and we should be safe for a while. If the saying is true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, then Paul, the boys and I should be as tough as nails by now!
Monday, December 3, 2007
Practice final - example essay
I would like to think that I have a fairly strong stomach. Working at the hospital, I can't very well be gagging in every patient's room just because they are bleeding or messed themselves. However, there is one thing that no matter how often I see it, my stomach involuntarily lurches. It's called phlegm, mucus, snot, respiratory excretions, lugies, among other things. It is DISGUSTING! Send me into a room to clean feces, help a bleeding patient, or even someone covered in crusty sores, but dear God, please don't make me help a respiratory patient! Recently, I had the misfortune of dealing with my nemesis, on three different occasions.
In August, I was doing clinicals at Stillwater Healthcare. One of my favorite patients was affectionately called "Sistah" by the staff there. Sistah was adorable - she would sing all day long. However, Sistah had a condition that caused her to vomit at almost every meal. It wasn't just your garden variety vomit - it was full of PHLEGM! The first time I went into her room to empty her vomit bucket I almost added to it. It was so full of phlegm that it undulated, then slithered down the drain. One day she missed the bucket and threw up all over herself and the floor. By the time this was noticed the mucus-vomit had started to congeal on the floor. By the time I got out of that room, I was pale and had completely lost my appetite.
There was a man at Stillwater Healthcare that perpetually had a long line of snot dangling from one nostril. Every time I saw him my stomach would heave. One day I had to help another student walk him up the hall. As we walked farther and farther down the hall, the clear snot hanging from his nostril got longer and longer. I developed a few beads of sweat on my brow, and my stomach started making some warning "glurps". Somehow, I made it through the walk. I chose to skip lunch that day.
Last week on Grant 5, I was a little leary of the patient I had with pneumonia. It turned out that he had aspiration pneumonia, so I figured I was off the hook. I went into his room to help him get cleaned up. Only one of his arms worked, so I had to do a lot for him. The first thing we did was brush his dentures. He started brushing them, and then took them out for me to rinse off in the sink. The vision is now burned into my head - the man reached into his mouth, pulling out his top denture, which was connected to the top of his mouth with a long, thick, shiny glop of, you guessed it - PHLEGM! My stomach gave a heave as I reached out for his dentures. My mouth was filling as I reached for the bottom dentures, which had an identical slimy line of phlegm attached to them as well. How I made it out of that room without losing my cookies I'll never know.
So there you have it - go ahead and show me blood clots the size of apples from a postpartum patient, pus on the end of a man's catheterized penis, or even an elderly person's diaper filled with shit. Give me vomit, a catheter bag to empty filled with bloody urine, or a bedpan to clean. I'll even empty out a smelly wound drainage bag, but please - keep the phlegm away from me.
In August, I was doing clinicals at Stillwater Healthcare. One of my favorite patients was affectionately called "Sistah" by the staff there. Sistah was adorable - she would sing all day long. However, Sistah had a condition that caused her to vomit at almost every meal. It wasn't just your garden variety vomit - it was full of PHLEGM! The first time I went into her room to empty her vomit bucket I almost added to it. It was so full of phlegm that it undulated, then slithered down the drain. One day she missed the bucket and threw up all over herself and the floor. By the time this was noticed the mucus-vomit had started to congeal on the floor. By the time I got out of that room, I was pale and had completely lost my appetite.
There was a man at Stillwater Healthcare that perpetually had a long line of snot dangling from one nostril. Every time I saw him my stomach would heave. One day I had to help another student walk him up the hall. As we walked farther and farther down the hall, the clear snot hanging from his nostril got longer and longer. I developed a few beads of sweat on my brow, and my stomach started making some warning "glurps". Somehow, I made it through the walk. I chose to skip lunch that day.
Last week on Grant 5, I was a little leary of the patient I had with pneumonia. It turned out that he had aspiration pneumonia, so I figured I was off the hook. I went into his room to help him get cleaned up. Only one of his arms worked, so I had to do a lot for him. The first thing we did was brush his dentures. He started brushing them, and then took them out for me to rinse off in the sink. The vision is now burned into my head - the man reached into his mouth, pulling out his top denture, which was connected to the top of his mouth with a long, thick, shiny glop of, you guessed it - PHLEGM! My stomach gave a heave as I reached out for his dentures. My mouth was filling as I reached for the bottom dentures, which had an identical slimy line of phlegm attached to them as well. How I made it out of that room without losing my cookies I'll never know.
So there you have it - go ahead and show me blood clots the size of apples from a postpartum patient, pus on the end of a man's catheterized penis, or even an elderly person's diaper filled with shit. Give me vomit, a catheter bag to empty filled with bloody urine, or a bedpan to clean. I'll even empty out a smelly wound drainage bag, but please - keep the phlegm away from me.
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