Facebook Detox

OK, I've done it, I'm giving up FB until my thesis is done. I did it like 2 minutes ago and I'm already anxious for honestly no good reason. My number one reason is I need to get this fucking thesis done... Cue the going back to blogging as a form of procrastination. Yes, writing here again is that but its writing and my thesis supervisor an incredibly smart woman suggests free writing as a way to improve my writing skills. So I'm going to try and write here when the FB urge is strong. I am also going to write my fucking thesis. Goal is to be done by the end of the year, not defend but finish writing. So Dyslexic Girl is back and she going write a 100 page thesis and then pay someone to edit the thing so I don't up having to defend my use of the word "assess" ;)

Getting My Sense of Smell Back

I’m not exactly sure when I lost my sense of smell. Smell is a subtle thing. It was something that faded away without much of a fuss. I don’t even remember having a day when I realized that I had lost my sense of smell. It was a conclusion that I came to over time, as people pointed out smells that I didn’t notice. People usually found out I couldn’t smell when someone would react to a repugnant smell and I would state that I had lost my sense of smell. The funny thing is people would tell me I’m lucky. I never knew how to respond to that, sure I could not smell foul things, but I also couldn’t smell that earthy smell the ground lets out during a summer rain. Eating was not pleasurable as it once was, food was bland. The reason I could no longer smell was nasal polyps in my sinuses had blocked off my olfactory passage. I grow polyps like an invasive plant species in Madagascar. They destroyed everything in their path (my polyps had completely filled, eroded and destroyed my sinuses). I’ve had two surgeries, the first one did nothing more than allow me to breathe through my nose again. The effects were short lived and within six months I was sounding like a pug again when breathing. And while not that relevant the surgeon was also a total dick. The second surgery I had was with a new surgeon, the nasal polyp guy. He was nice and very handsome, which is not extremely relevant apart from I tend to bleed and snot all over him which is embarrassing. He spent over four hours removing polyps and rebuilding my sinuses, he wanted to get every last one of the suckers out. After surgery I could breathe threw my nose again and the results lasted. But still no sense of smell. To manage my polyps (those fuckers grow back at an alarming rate) I have a complex daily routine of rinsing and snorting various steroids up my nose.  I also visit my surgeon every 3-4 months to get my polyp debrided (like a roto router for your nose). But still no smell, it was just life. Then last year I went on a magic study drug. The magic drug that got rid of my asthma also gifted me my sense of smell. One day not that long ago I was sitting on the couch with my partner and a rank smell floated my way. Without even thinking about it I yelled at him “what the fuck is that, it smells like you have a dead fish up your ass” (I’m crude what can I say). Miles (my partner of four years) just looked at me in total shock and surprise. As long as we have been together I have never been able to smell, so he took to the habit of “letting one rip” whenever the need arose. It should be noted that he did take great effort ensuring when he passed gas that there was an audible sound so I would be aware of what he had done. So the first thing I smelled in almost 10 years was a fart, and a rank one at that. My eyes watered up but not because of the smell, but because I could smell. I went and smelling everything. Eating was incredible. When I eat a raspberry for the first time after getting my sense of smell back, memories of eating raspberries in my grandmother’s garden came flooding back. The thing with smell is that they are tied to our memories in a direct neurological way, and you can’t just recall them like an image in your head. While my sense of smell is not great it is there. I’m not sure how long it will be before it’s gone again, but while it lasts I am taking the time to ensure I smell the roses. 

A Short Story of a Red Canoe

The canoe was originally my Grandpapa’s. It is a big red fiberglass canoe, big enough to comfortably fit a family of four. The thing weighs a ton; this was no high tech portable, portaging canoe. It was a canoe you stuck a small outboard motor on and took your family on day adventure on. I don’t know when my father inherited the canoe but I have some happy memories of day trips with my parents and brother in the red canoe. My parents live across the street from ocean and every few feet there is a water access point. It is common for people to store their small boats and canoes at these water access points. We kept the canoe for years at one of those water access points, a few houses down and across the street from my parent’s home. Then one day ten years ago graduation weekend, the canoe went missing. We all assumed that some drunken teenagers took the canoe for a joy paddle. I mean who else would else think of moving a canoe that weighed a ton. I assumed the canoe ended up at the bottom of the ocean or broke apart and wash up on the shores up and down the inlet. But throughout the years my dad swore up and down he saw people paddling our canoe up and down the inlet. I never believed him, “It’s not our canoe its one that just looks like our old canoe” I would say. Ten years passed with the occasional sighting of the “red canoe”. This summer I was at my parent’s house for dinner, and out of the blue my dad says “The canoe is back”. “Bullshit” I reply. “There is no way that our canoe is back after ten years” I say. “I’ll show you after dinner” he says. We walk down to the water that one over from the original access point where we stored our canoe. And there under a tarp was our canoe, the same heavy red fiber glass canoe. “Are you going to bring it back to the house and reclaim it I ask”? “Naww” says my dad “Let’s leave it here, think of all the interesting adventures the canoe has had in the past ten years, we didn’t use it enough anyways. At least someone got some use out of it”. Now every few months I go back down to the water access point to see if the canoe is still there. Sometime it is, sometimes it not and I wonder what is the canoe up to these days.

 

Walking down the halls of the same cancer agency where my grandpa was a patient, I was suddenly overcome with emotions. I walked down the same halls over 15 years ago and they look exactly the same today. Back in 1998 when I walk these halls I was a young teenager visiting my grandpa who had cancer and was getting treatment at the agency. At that time I did not understand what palliative treatment meant. He was the most amazing man. He could talk to anyone, was a lifelong learner and had the biggest heart. He taught me how to stamp leather and whittle. We spent so much time in his shop as kids, if I close my eyes I remember smell of wood and oil from his shop. I miss him. Today when I walk down the same halls it's in a different capacity, I am now one of those who provides care. I'm only here for a month covering a maternity leave. It's different here than what I'm used to, a different pace, than the chaos of the major hospital I usually work at. You have time here to talk to people and get to know them. I've met nurses and physiotherapists who have been here for over 20 years and would have cared for my grandpa. I sit in rounds and I wonder about him and what was said so many years ago. It's almost funny that while a terrible trauma has absolutely no impact on me, walking down the halls of the same place where my grandpa was a patient me brings me to tears. While I'm here for this month I'm going to do what my grandpa would have done, talk to people, learn their stories, and share some laughs.

Back to School

Well it's been sometime since I've posted here. But Dyslexic Girl is back to school (while working full time)! Despite how hard school is for me I'm hooked, I love learning. So here is the story about how I decided to go back to school to peruse a Masters in Emergency and Disaster Planning at Royal Roads University:

I am currently working as a respiratory therapist (RT) at Vancouver General Hospital (VGH). I love my job, it's everything I could ask for. I care for patients by evaluating, treating, and maintaining cardiopulmonary function. I cover all areas of the hospital but particularly high-risk and critical care (Intensive Care, and Emergency) areas. While I enjoy all aspects of my job I thrive when I am working with the code blue team or the trauma team in the Emergency Department (ED). I have always worked well in stressful situations.

Last summer I was working in the ED and I got a call that a large motor vehicle accident what going to arrive in 15min. We only know that it was multiple vehicles and we would receive up to 10 patients and that at least four of them where critically ill. I had to jump to action. I called for other RTs working in different areas to come down as I would be unable to manage so many patients on my own. I started organizing for intubation and getting various bedsides ready. I was in charge of leading an organizing our group of RTs to ensure each patient coming in could be managed, I would also be in charge of prioritizing who receive our care if we became overwhelmed. We ended up receiving three very ill patients (a fourth passed away on route), they all required to be incubated an put on breathing machines, two required massive transfusion protocols, and they all needed to get life saving operations. At one point we ran out of blood to transfuse them with. It was the most chaotic hour of my life but it was organized chaos. We had teams and leaders for each team and we coordinated via the charge nurse who was overseeing the entire event. All three of them survived but we where stretched to our maximum. I started thinking about what if we had more critically ill patients, one more patient and we may not have been able to offer them the same level of care as the first three. What if there where many more?

That event started me looking into disaster and emergency planning. I read books on disaster planning and past disasters. I started talking to various managers about Code Orange planning and how our hospital would deal with a major event. I found out that most of the people who are in charge of code orange training were self taut and do not have formal training. I found the Royal Roads program via web search and it really clicked with me. There was an actual program for what I had become profoundly interested in. I want to enrol in this program because I want to know how best to prepare for emergencies and disasters. I want to learn about all aspects from pre-planning for emergencies and disasters, to how to manage an actual disaster. 

End Note: So here I am already five weeks in! I should be doing school work but procrastination comes along with school for me. So far I'm loving the program, it's incredibly interesting and engaging. I'll write more on the program later. What I have realized as I go along is having a learning disability does not make me any less capable. I am proud to say I am an excellent RT and an excellent student. I just have to adapt sometimes. Most of the time it's not even noticeable, I wish I could tell my younger self this. I turn 30 in 2 months and I cannot complain about life. I have an amazing job, an amazing boyfriend, an amazing dog, an amazing family, amazing friends and an amazing life. The one greatest thing my job has taught me is to love life... you don't know how much time you have, so do what you love and hug people you love. 

The Jouney so Far and the New Adventure Begins

Well I'm done school. It's been three crazy years of my life and I really cant believe  it's over. The overused Dickens quote "It was the best of times it was the worst of times", is very applicable.

I can't believe how much we learnt in three years. I went to a code last night as an RT. I felt so proud of myself when someone introduced me as the code RT. I mean shit I've only been working as a real RT for 2 weeks. It's pretty neat but I got orientated to the T12 ward 1st (they have patients on the wards, carry the code pager and attend codes). It was also the very 1st rotation I did in level two as a student. As a student I thought it was the best rotation ever, I had four codes in 3 days. I've come full circle back to T12 now as a staff, it's poetic really and I love T12 just as much. I'm a code junky, high energy, high adrenalin.

Level 2 presented different challenges than level 1. In level 2 you find your groove. You start to put the pieces together, develop a style, carry a patient load. You are no longer learning individual skills but how to put these skills together. You learn to stay calm when shit literally hits the fan. And like all the semesters and levels before you work your ass off. You start feeling like part of the RT team. Level 2 is more self directed learning. If you put yourself out there you get to see cool stuff. I've also learnt that my definition of cool is not everyone else's definition of cool. Oh yeah and I had my OR rotation, I intubated a bunch of people, no big deal. ;)

It was a good year to be a student. We all had multiple job offers for full time positions. I chose VGH because as it would be an easy transition from student to staff as I already knew the hospital. I also really like the staff. Ten of my classmates/friends got hired here with me, so we don't feel like the new staff at all. But let me tell you that first paycheque is amazing. It's been a while since I've seen cash flow and it feels good to have some coming in.

Like I've said before deciding to become an RT was the best choice I've ever made. I scarficed a lot and it was all worth it, because now I have a job that I'm absurdly passionate about and I know that will never change. Not everyone can say they love their job but I can. I am very excited to see what the next year brings as a new staff. I'm told you learn just as much if not more in your 1st year of work than you do as a student. I've always loved adventures.

New Years Resolution Vinyl Street Cafe Style

Years ago I was listening to CBC's Vinyl Street Cafe; and Stuart McLean was talking about New Years Resolutions and tomatoes. He commented on the fact people always make resolutions that for the most part they don't keep. My personal resolution that I enjoy failing at every year is: This year I will eat less sugar! Yeah right. I consume sugar like it's my life line. Removing sugar from my diet feels like I would be taking a part of who I am away (Ok, I know it's weird associating my person being with sugar but really I love the stuff in all forms). Anyways... Stuart McLean decided to make his resolution something he would enjoy keeping, so his resolution was to buy nice tomatoes. Ingenious I thought. I hate bad tomatoes why do I buy them anyways. So I borrowed his idea and made that my new years resolution. In the years since I have always bough nice tomatoes. I like the one's on the vine that almost always taste like summer.

I love tomatoes, to me they taste like summer!

For my Birthday this year my friend Natasha took me to the movie "Surviving progress". It's about over-consumption and progress. I felt it gave a sense of hope and I enjoyed how it made me think about social issues outside of health care. I have been so consumed with my job that I often don't take the time to examine other social problems. I started thinking about my own consumption and how I could do something small to move in a positive direction. I wanted to make it my new years resolution but having decided to make only fun resolutions I would keep I was unsure how to do this.

If I could dress like this everyday I would, and most days I wear a slightly toned down version of this outfit.

I decided to marry the two idea's together. I love clothes and shopping. I feel at one time I am a consumer and other that I just love to express myself through my often loud and colorful clothing. I sadly must admit, when I'm down I love the instant gratification of a new outfit. At the same time I believe I have my own style that does not reflect current trends and I have always been good with second hand clothing. And thus my new years resolution was born: "I will only buy second hand clothing for a year". Some people I realize already do this and without thought but for me this will be a challenge. Now there are two clauses I have included to help me stick to this resolution. 1) Undergarments do not count, call me what you may but there no way in hell I will buy second hand bras, panties or socks. 2) I can buy six new garments this year, call it a cop-out but I am unsure of my success if I do include this. So unlike my resolution of purchasing only "good tomatoes", this resolution severs a few purposes:  It is fun, it puts some constraints on my consumer behavior and it allows me to be still be expressive through the clothing I wear. Without turning into a fashion blog I will post pictures of my secondhand outfit journey here and there.

Three Rules of Life the Hospital has Taught Me

I've been thinking a lot of the things the hospital has taught me about life. Cliche as they may be they ring true to me (and these are merely my thoughts and opinions).

1) Don't Smoke
I don't care that your Great Aunt Edna smoked everyday and she's 89.I don't care if you only smoke socially or infrequently. Smoking leads to death plain and simple. I don't preach to my friends that smoke I know they know it's bad and I know they want to quit. People tend to say things like I'm going to quit once work is less stressful, once the kids are older etc.. There will never be a perfect time and it will always be hard, so get help talk to your Dr.; get your friends and family to support you. And for those of us who don't smoke; support people who are quitting when they get grumpy, don't guilt them if they slip up and be there for them, it is not easy. I don't want to see people I care for at a COPD or cancer clinic years down the road.

2) Everything In Moderation
Too much of anything is bad. Too much food, too much booze, too many drugs. If you choose to drink be responsible drink water, get a ride home. If you do drugs, don't mix them. More so than not people OD when there is more than one drug in their system. And for the love of god, do not mix MDMA and coke. It is a toxic mix that lead to heart attacks. One makes your heart stiff, the other makes your heart beat fast and essentially it explodes. No joke. Young or old bad shit happens when you do too many drugs.  Too much food leads to a multitude of problems down the road, try to eat healthy for the most part. Indulge but not everyday.  Everything in moderation applies to pretty much everything.

3) Live Life and Love

On a great adventure with awesome girls  xox

Tell people you love them every chance you can. Shit happens so make life count. Return anger and hate with love and understanding. Follow your passion. I've found a job that I look forward to going to. It's exciting, challenges and makes me think. Be happy at your job you spend a huge part of your life working. Try new things, and make fun goals. I'm going to learn how to surf this year. A day is never lost if you laugh at least once.

Celebrating life!

Allow people to have different opinions than yourself. This can be hard for me, and I can be dismissive when people have different opinions than myself, but I need to realize that different opinions/beliefs are what makes the world exciting. Take chances (not dangerous ones); how can we ever know if we don't try. Failure is not a negative word it just means try again or try something else. Do what makes you happy (so long as it doesn't hurt others). We only have one life, I am reminded of that everyday so lets all make the most of it.

Love

No I really can't smell..... Anosmia : The lack of perceiving odors

People always ask the same questions after I tell someone I can’t smell. The questions usually go as follows: “Like you always can’t smell?”, “Can you taste?”, “You must be able to smell really strong things?” The funny thing is people usually don’t ask why I can’t smell. I can’t smell because I have nasal polyps. The technical definition is an abnormal growth from a mucus membrane; they are pretty much like little peeled grape looking things that block my olfaction (smelling) passageway so I can’t smell. They are associated with my good friends; asthma and allergies. Fun facts about myself like this are how I seduce men; “Hey baby, I have abnormal sinuses! Wink” 

I have an abnormal fear of skunks

“You must be able to smell really strong things?” My favorite question… A few years ago, I came home early from work felling a bit under the weather. I let the dogs out for pee; they ran around the yard barking for a bit and came in. I went to my room for a nap with the dogs. They snuggled up next to me and I fell asleep. Four hours later I woke up to my brother screaming bloody murder. “WHAT THE FUCK!!! THE FUCKING HOUSE FUCKKK!” Followed by him dry heaving in the front yard. I thought the house was on fire but no… I had just had a four hour nap with freshly skunked dogs. So no I really can’t smell.

Yup had a nap with they two mutts when they were skunked

I lost my sense of smell when I was 20 it’s not really a bad sense to loose. I work in the hospital. You have to find the silver lining in everything. I mean fuck, not being able to smell is almost a superpower in the hospital, and I really should get a cape. I have been in small rooms where everyone is gagging from something putrid and I don’t have the slightest care. When someone smells like Melena or Pseudomonas (look them up if you don’t know what they are, cuz they are gross and Im not about to explain) people have gone so far to say I’m lucky I cant smell what’s going on in the room.

Taste… My taste buds still work, the best I can describe it is that food is less full but I look for different things in food; texture being one and sensation being the other. Garlic, hot sauce, etc have sensations associated with it them. I still love to eat and bake; it’s just a different experience. I had surgery a few years ago to see if they could fix the problem, but ends up the polyps are very close to brain matter and look a lot like brain matter and since my surgeon decided he didn’t feel like giving me a frontal lobotomy (his words not mine) he didn’t take out the ones that are blocking my olfaction passage. To be honest it doesn’t bother me much, it’s just one more thing on the long list of quirks that makes me who I am.

One way

Without a word of lie, the best choice I ever made, was to become an RT. It was like the job was personally designed for me. I love the rush of a code, the machines, the hospital, shit I find studying for hours on end an enjoyable activity. I would recommend looking at becoming an RT to anyone interested in going into a heath related field. I also feel people need to go into this job with their eyes wide open. It is not an easy path. We spent a total of 2h talking about death; first semester of first year. I was lucky an amazing palliative care nurse came in to talk to us. She told us something that has stuck with me "It is just as big of an honor to be at someone's death as it is to be at someone's birth". As an RT the job of "one way" or "terminal extubation" falls to us. When it is decided to remove life support, the final act of  turning off the ventilator and taking out the tube falls to us. It's not something that should be taken lightly. Sometimes are easier than others, but I always feel bad for the family and friends that are loosing a loved one. I don't think there will ever be a time I don't feel a sort of "twang" of sadness, when I see a friend or family member trying to cope with the imminent death of some they love and care for. I just try to remember; It is just as big of an honor to be at someone's death as it is to be at someone's birth.

How to mess with the brain of a Dyslexic Girl…

I have been crazy busy with life recently. Between full time school, I also work part-time, hence the lack of posts recently. But here is a quick story. My father is an amazing man; I love him so much and am very lucky to have him as my father. That being said he is still my papa and has always enjoyed getting the last laugh.  Here would be such a story.

A while ago my father and I were taking a stroll in the park and came across a woman with a fairly ugly little white dog. The dogs face was smooched in, his eyes were crossed, he had what looked like skid marks on his white fur and look the result of some serious inbreeding. We chatted with the lady and like with an ugly baby told her how cute the dog was.
She told us her dog was a “Lhasa Apso and they were the best most prettiest dogs ever!”

As we walked away my father said to me “Lhasa Apso… that dog look more like a Lapsed Asshole!”  

This followed by a good laugh.

One week later, my mother and I were taking a walk and we came across, a much cuter version of the dog from the pervious week. With the confidence a girl who is not only dyslexic but lacks any form of a verbal filter I stated loudly…

“What a cute Ruptured Anus!”

My mother reaction was equally as spectacular as my statement. It took me an entire 2 second to figure out what I had just said. Somewhere deep in my Dyslexic mind I had gotten Ruptured Anus from Lhasa Apso and I had my father to thank for crossing those wires.

Returning from our walk I explained to my mother about the ugly Lhasa Apso from the week before which my father had called an Lapsed Asshole and how really anyone could have gotten confused and thought the dogs breed was that of a Ruptured Anus.

My father thought the entire things was hilarious and to this date is one of his proud moments as a parent.

So here are some deep parting words from a Dyslexic Girl!

“If life gives you Melons you may be Dyslexic!”

The beeps, doops, and chirps of the ICU!

Beep, beep, doop, bobidio, biboop…. Ok so phonetically writing sounds is not my thing but let me tell you there are more things beeping, ringing and flashing in an ICU than in a trashy Vegas Casino. I am quickly learning which sounds and lights I need to pay attention to…. Sorta. There other day my preceptor and I were checking out a ventilator we don’t use often and it started this terrible beeping, I kept hitting the silence alarm button to no avail. I looked over in desperation at my preceptor, who had a smirk on his face and was holding his pager in his hand… the source of irritating deep. Well at least I knew it was an important sound. It’s also a bit sad when we (my other fellow students), start mimicking ventilator noises without knowing. I’m sure there are times when we are walking down the hall making ventilator noise to each other (for no real good reason), people look at us like we escaped from the psych wing. To be honest this program often makes me feel like an escaped psych patient.

Obstacle Course (Hospital Style!)

It's been a busy couple of weeks. I'm now in critical care. It's one of those funny things; all at once I'm surprised about  how much I know and how little I know all at the same time. The learning curve is a steep one but I've always liked rollercosters.

People, poles, machines, tubes, and lines oh my!

Let me begin by saying I am going to try and amend the Resp Therapy curriculum by requesting a new course be added: Hospital Obstacle Course Training. As most of you know, I am not very aware of my body in relations to my surroundings. (Ok ok I'm klutz). I just seem to move faster than my own thought process, and my grasp on the ever important concept of "inanimate object don't move" is lacking. Trying to navigate my body around a bedside in critical care is no easy feat. There are people, machines, lines, pole, tubes, bags, medication and cords; coming off the wall, hanging form the ceiling, suspended from poles, coming off the patient, emerging from the wall; everywhere. Connecting a tube to the wall usually involves squeezing one's self between a bed, the wall, some machines, being entangled in lines, all while trying to not rip out, knock over, pull, or move anything. I swear just having to be that aware of my body is exhausting.

Could you please plug in the O2 flow meter for me?

The worst part of it all is I get what I have named the "rebound affect". After 12h of being hyper aware of my body in relation to my environment,  I'm banjaxed. My klutziness goes off the charts, it's like the part of my brain that deals with proprioception decides it's done for the rest of the day. I take corners to sharp, walk into doors, fall down steps, it's a bit ridiculous and I have the bruises to prove it. So I've decided we need add a PE course to the resp curriculum, to prepare future klutzy RT students of the perils of having to navigate around a critical care bedside: Hospital Obstacle Course. You could set up a mock bed side and have to navigate various set ups, in a certain amount of time without moving, pulling out or getting tangled in lines and tubes. It's ingenious just think about it! :)

I tell people to blow fast and hard.

Ok breath normal...back and forth....on the next breath take a big breath all the way in and BLAST it out hard and fast, keep blowing out all the way, I know you feel empty keeeeeeeppp going, almost there and BIG breath in all the way in, in, all the way to the top...  good job you can come off the mouth piece now.

Ok BLAST!! hard fast keep going!!

So that is pulmonary function testing in a nutshell. I thought I would hate this rotation. I hated PF in school. It's so boring. You look at lots of numbers, funny graphs and (in my opinion) random stupid rules. But I actually had a lot of fun this week. You get to be really social with the staff and patients. It's no easy feat for someone who can barely breath to do these tests, so it can be a challenge to get an adequate test.

That goes where again?

I was also in the bronchoscope suite. It was soooo cool. They put a fiberoptic flexible snake into a patients and take a look into their lungs. The RT is really involved and it was soo cool to see inside someone's lungs and take little samples of things here and there.

Allison is coming next weekend!!! yeah

So week two in the hospital a surprising success. I now need to go hit the books hard. One of the first lessons I've learnt is that I have so much to learn. And Allison will be down next weekend and I have a feeling the two of us are going to get into so shenanigans, so I need to get ahead on the school work, so I can take it easy next week.

From Being A Patient In The Hospital To Working In One

I've now move onto real people!

What a week it's been. My first real week in a hospital as a student respiratory therapist and to quote my good friend Allison "1 week in the hospital poking patients with needles and have caused no known death or dismemberment". Everything was exciting... like connecting a flow meter to oxygen. It's amazing to finally see what RT's really do for a living, and it's really cool. The people I've been working with are amazing, I'm pretty sure RT's are the coolest people in the world. I learnt so much this week it really boggles the mind (well it more mangled my mind). I can't wait for next week. All my fellow classmates, can attest that school can be a rough go. This week has really reinforced that it was really worth it. I think I'll really be happy working in the hospital, but I realize there is still a lot to learn about the job. I'm not going to lie I questioned going back to school, more than once. The fact that I couldn't believe how fast a 12h shift went by or the fact that I really helped people shows me it was all worth it.  

I'm doing this on real people now, no more plastic arm for me!

This week also made me reflect on my experiences being a patient in the hospital. I usually end up in the hospital alone. I hate going with people, being a burden, and people seeing me struggle to breath. As a result of that I've spent many nights in my adult life in the ER on my own by my own choice. It's hard to explain the feeling of an asthma attack or how all the drugs make you feel but Ventolin one of the drugs to treat asthma attacks, gives you the shakes, makes your heart race and of course causes nausea for good measure. I remember one night I had headed to the ER on my own with a particularly bad, and stubborn attack I couldn't get over. I was getting tired and scared. They loaded me up on a shit load of drugs even by my standards because I was getting worse. I was on so much Ventolin my heart rate was about 220, and I was shaking so bad I couldn't hold things. Then I started to vomit. I broke down, I could barely breath and now I was violently vomiting. I remember crying as I puked into a cardboard bowl. A nurse came over and started rubbing my back. She got the doctor to give me a shot of gravol and waited with me till the nausea passed. I can't explain what that meant to me, she made a terrible time more manageable. I realized this week I want to be like her. My goal this year is to learn as much as possible but to never forget the human aspect. Compassion, caring and hope go a long way and I don't want to ever forget that. 

I get to do this on people now (well soon)

Fact: My Brother is Cooler than Me

 

Told you he was cooler than me

My brother is extremely talented... no one can piss me of as fast or intensely as he can. I mean I can not talk to him for five month, and within the first two words he utters to me, I'm ready to end his life. It's really impressive. We are trying something new now that we are both living under the same roof again acting like adults around each other. Crazy idea I know.  Historically, for most of our interaction we revert back to acting like five-year olds (hair pulling and all). I must say so far so good. It ends up he's a really cool guy... much cool than I am actually.

The Cover of his EP

He's a musician, producer, extraordinaire. I'm not sure when or how or why really. (I mean he's my brother it's not like we share information) but he got into DJing, and making music.I usually find out the next morning he had a show. I've only seen him spin once, and he made sure to tell  me not to talk to him, or embarrass him under any circumstance.

What can I say things like this cover make me proud of my bro.

The music he makes is chilly disco. To me it sounds like a hot summer night and his tunes go well with them. Next time the sun is setting, the bbq is going, the booze is flowing put on his tunes, you wont be disappointed. Check out my new favorite song of his... million dollar party and the rest of his SoundCloud while your at it. 

Million dollar party by laberge

Boomerang Kid....

Ok.... so my ego took a hard hit recently. I moved back home. I'm a boomerang kid. I cringe just writing the sentence. I mean it was the smart thing to do, rental prices in Vancouver are crazy and this is my second round of post secondary (I have a BSc in Psychology and the student loans to go with that undergrad). But shit lets be honest, I'm 26 (another thing I cringe at when I write). The choice really came down to the fact my only other real other option was to move into a homeless shelter. I have student loans but they barely cover my tuition let alone, rent, food etc.. So I moved back home with my parents and my brother also moved back home to go to school also, so it's a full house.

Me and Mom (We don't look related)

What takes the edge off is the fact that my family rocks. Apart from a rare squabble here and there we get long great. When we all manage to eat dinner together it's always a good time. I really love spending time with my family and I count myself luck that I have such a great relationship with them. I'm fortunate I also have a few places I can go to hide when I need to get away.

Me and Papa having at laugh at the PNE

Another great thing about moving home is every time I come home I'm greeted by the family dogs; Sam and Pippin. It doesn't matter how bad my day was they always put a smile only face when they run up to the door when I come home. They arn't the brightest dogs; they chase lights, lazers,  and skunks.... I'm not kidding they get liked skunked every second month and it sucks as much as you think it would.

Sam and Pippin, cute as hell not so smart

Anyways. This year I learned the hard way that life rarely goes as you plan, and it's best to let the narrative of life write itself rather than trying to predict them, as that can lead to much heart ache when those stories don't manifest themselves. So I moved back home... it's great.... my ego needs to get over it. Life is good, I'm surrounded by people who love me.

Justin (with Sam), Mom, Papa, Me (with Pippin)

First Day of Clinical!

St. Paul's, and yeah I took a picture

Today was my first day at St. Paul's Hospital so absolutely very thing is so exciting. I mean I had butterflies in my stomach just walking to the bus. I arrived at the hospital 45min early, I mean I didn't want to be late but that was a bit of over kill. I was so excited that I took pictures of the entrance and leaving the house. To start off the day our clinical site coordinator quizzed us and the questions we get wrong we got assigned as homework!

My first day of clinical! Ekkkkk

 We did a lot of house keeping before going off to go get mask fit with the M95, they are special masks, you may have heard about them during the SARS epidemic. They are essential in keeping health care professionals protected from things such as TB and other communicable disease. To get fit tested they put you in this fun space suite looking think a squirt a substance that tastes like a mouth full of Tylenol. If you can taste it with the mask on you don't fit it,they test you until you find one that fits. We finished the day off with a two hour test. Not bad for a first day!

I come in peace!

Space invaders!

Pumped Up Kicks! (Sasquatch)

The Gorge!
(Sad fact there is a town called George close by and I kept on getting confused, I would get excited when I saw road signs and Allison would point out they said George not Gorge, argh I mean it's only one letter off!)

Main  Stage, is just breath taking

Wow Sasquatch was unreal! It was epic from start to finish and I had the pleasure of sharing the experience with two of the most amazing people I know, Allison and Rebecca! We drove down together in one car and shared a tent (I am not ashamed to say we spooned to stay warm at night!). We drove down via the Kamloops/Penticton root. I was briefly concerned that we had some how traveled back in time to January. I'm not kidding there was an intense snow storm we drove threw, it got us all riled up for everything else that followed. I could write a small novel about Sasquatch but I'll let the pictures(courtesy of Rebecca's camera) do most of the talking but I'm not gonna lie, I drank my freaking weight in booze a few times over this weekend.

The shit snow storm and it got worse than this, snow was sticking to the roads at the end of MAY!!!

Another highlight of the weekend, after seeing City and Colour, I spotted Dallas Green milling about with us common folk , Rebecca had the balls to ask for a pic, (and I am so happy she did)

At "Foster the People" one of the best sets of the weekend for shiz!

The Ladies (Rebecca, Allison and me)

The rest of the gang, we went down in a convoy, there was ten girls and two boys (poor boys, so much estrogen!)

Rocking out at main stage to Against Me!

RAWWWWWWW

Allison and Rebecca

Sets that rocked my socks off and/or were as some drunk guy said "Danced my dick off" too:

Day One: Rocked out hard core to Foo Fighters and Against Me!

The Foo

Day Two: (I was a little too intoxicated for my own good this day, too much sun and not enough water so it's a tiny bit fuzzy in some parts, but amazingly I didn't get sick or hung over), Local Natives were amazing, moshed to Death From Above 1979. I really liked Pink Martini. A huge disappointment was Iron and Wine they were hands down the worst of the weekend, it was a bit crushing I really love their music. Last but not least Glitch Mob.

Local Natives

Day Three:  City and Colour was so beautiful, I love their music so much, and they sound better live. Meeting Dallas Green after the show priceless, what a nice man. Flogging Molly was fun. Gayngs was pretty awesome because their lead singer looks Ron Jeremy, the voice and the man didnt match. Their song Faded High is currently on high rotation on my iphone well worth checking out. Yeasyer just made me smile. I lost my shit when they played ONE. I was looking forward to Modest Mouse, and they did not disappoint despite the fact  Isaac Brock is bat shit crazy, like when dude talked it was just words, pulled out from random places in his brain. He was also probably shit faced but man he can rock!

Modest Mouse being bat shit crazy!

Day Four:  This was my favorite day. Chromeo was probably my favorite set. Their lead singer was so surprised by how many people came to see their set, he had the best smile on his face. Dancing in the sun with thousands of other happy people. A very very close second for favorite show was Foster the People. They were on the smallest stage and that shit was packed like sardines. When they played Pumped Up Kicks, some people had scaled the wall and were dancing on top of the food hut's roofs. I can't really explain the feeling but it was good. To end the night off, I went to the dance tent. Bonobo, Skrillex and Major Lazer where unreal. My feet hurt so bad from dancing by the end of the night. Unless you've seen me dance, you can't really understand how hard I go. I love the energy, the moshing, just plain pure and simple rocking out. Skrillex is like death metal of the electronic world, and I really appreciated Skrillex telling the audience to look after the girls, in the crowd. I would go see him again in a heart beat.

 

Dave 1 and his cute little smile

Skrillex in the dance tent!

We live!
We made it home in one piece.