Pink Elephants go Dancing by in East Tennessee

Life in East Tennessee has been stretching to say the least. I had 6 roommates and now I'm down to 2...or so I hope. My classmate and I were watching a movie when I saw something scurry across the floor. 2 days later and plenty of cheese we found out those good ole wooden mouse traps work! My kitty is here with me, she aint a lick of good...she's also in "heat" and is more interested in waving her butt in the air than searching for mice. Silly kitty. Rural medicine is just that-rural. I've had some interesting days and I've had more boring days than I care to. On the bright side, I'm getting homework done and will finally meet my preceptor on Monday. yippee!

There's not much here in east TN, and surely there aren't pink elephants. That is unless one comes to mind.

Have you ever been afraid of the past? You have memories and emotions that haunt you and affect your every move but the pain seems too large to even think about it. I have many scars and many wounds from my past. I've been running from them ever since...well, ever since they happened. I finally got to the place where after 2 years of therapy it's time to stop procrastinating and begin to confront these monsters. Hooray for Jesus. I have cried and I have flat out said, "No. I will not go there. I don't want to even think about it." I've spent a lot of years building brick walls to keep the pain from hurting me, and a lot of wasted time and valuable life experiences from standing guard.

Until finally the other night, and after a long Mexican stand off with God, Jesus says to me, "Let me show you my way." My thoughts go back to the day when the teasing of my third grade peers finally penetrated the beautiful, vivacious, confident girl I once was. "Pink Elephant" was the final straw and I just sat at recess and cried leaving my friend Gina helpless to comfort me. When Jesus comes into moments like those, everything changes. Jesus was standing next to me and when the kid points and says "Pink Elephant" Jesus and I look at each other bewildered, and then look to see what's behind us...as if the boy was referring to something other than me. And sure enough, there was a bold, proud, silly looking pink elephant marching by with the most confident smile. Jesus and I just bust out laughing! And I didn't cry after that. The thought fades and I find myself still laughing. The pain gone. Ready to take on the world...at least for the day anyway...

...And when I see Jesus in the midst of my father yelling at me during my high school years, Jesus just whispers, "See how much he loves you." And the anger just melts. The resentment and the pain, they're gone. Simply because Jesus brings a whole new perspective. He sees the things I can't. He heals in ways I can only dare to dream. He's not bound by time and can change life events that shaped and molded the very essence of who I am. I get the best of both worlds...I'm a better for person for those hardships. Jesus never meant for the trials that produce perserverance to produce incompacitance. No, I don't want to relive the pain, and I don't have to when I see it Jesus' way. Hooray for Jesus.

"I'm human too, ya know..."

Twelve-hour-shifts are hard enough especially when you top it off with an hour commute home. In the wee hours of one Saturday morning I was compelled to stay over a couple of hours. Of course, I had a hard time driving home safely but I made it nonetheless...just don't tell my parents. :o) A patient came into the ER after swallowing an open bag of cocaine to avoid getting caught by the police. This person did get caught and was freaked out enough to say what had happened. Into the ER he came, scared, embarrassed, ashamed, and offensive.

After contacting poison control, the jury was in, this person needed to have an NG tube. It's not a very pleasant task. What's involved is sticking a hard plastic tube up your nose and then you have to keep swallowing it until it's completely shoved into your stomach. A numbing medicine is usually given first, but, in this case, there was a sense of urgency.

After the tube was placed, blood had to be drawn. It was my first time to see "track marks" and the experience was awkward for the both of us. I didn't mean to be condescending. I asked to see the guy's arms assuming that IV drug use was common knowledge. I quickly learned that wasn't the case when he asked me, "Why?" I came up with a quick answer, "To see where we're going to draw the blood." He was no fool and stated, "That's not what you meant." He was so ashamed of his arms. You could see the humiliation on his face. Only to make matters worse, we had to look at his feet for decent veins. Again, a no-go, and more humiliation washed across his face. Finally we asked him to try drawing his own blood. He wasn't too keen on the idea but did it anyway which resulted in another failed attempt. The only option left was going for the neck, no joke. Instead of humiliation, this time it was fear.

He made the comment, "Can I just go to jail now? I'd rather be there than here." The officer on guard replied, "This all wouldn't have happened if you could just stop using cocaine." To which I replied, "Unfortunately, that's easier said than done." As one with something resembling an addiction, albeit food which doesn't require an NG tube, my heart went out to him. Yes he made poor choices, but ... I'm sure he didn't sign up for the lot he was in that night.

I don't understand the callousness of those who have worked in this ER longer than I. Do you get to a point where you have to stop putting yourself into the patient's shoes just so you can survive the harshness of what comes through those doors? I don't know which to believe, the compassion or the jokes. It was this reality that kept me there. I stayed behind and slowly pushed a heavy-duty laxative (ironically called Go Lightly) into his stomach to get that cocaine out and get it out fast.

This isn't a post to brag about what a servant's heart I have. I booked it out of there when the diarrhea came! I was too tired to take anymore, I had reached my limit. So I really didn't mind my instructor's gentle urge to go home. This has definitely been an experience to remember. I suppose the moral of the story is simply this -- going to jail is better than getting a tube shoved up your nose and down your throat.

Starbuck's is the winner tonight...

Welcome to Insomniac's Central...where you can veg out when your body screams sleep and the mind ingnores it. I made a rather strong pot of Starbuck's House Blend, chuged 2 cups of it, and still can't sleep after taking a prescription sleeping pill. Hooray for Starbuck's!! Need I say that stuff is really potent?

Two major thoughts keep cycling through my mind. One is parathesia and the other is reconciliation. To make a needlessly long story short, my left index fingertip has been asleep for a day now. The $100 word that we learned in PA school for this sensation is parasthesia. It's pretty annoying. I'm hoping a little ice and some time will get the inflammation down so the pins and needles will stop. Note to self: when the fingers start to tingle because of carring really heavy grocery bags, shift the load--feeling is not garunteed to return.

I must have laid in bed for a good hour thinking of an old college friend. We left to go home after our freshman year on unsettled terms. I've never missed a dear friend so much. I only pray for the chance to relocate her and bring reconciliation to our frienship. There's this therapy technique called Theophostic therapy, it's really interesting. Apparantly I'll be trying it out next week. I'll let you know how it goes. I only mention it because maybe Jesus needs to do some work in my life with these old memories before I can continue searching to mend this relationship.

This game we play called Life, it sure is an interesting little stinker isn't it?