Sanctuary!

I'm sitting at my dining table, typing this on my BRAND NEW LAPTOP. I feel compelled to mention that this is the first new computer I have ever owned.

I like it! By the way...it does have a web cam. If any of you guys are interested, I'll sign up for Skype and we can do video chat. :)

The reason I'm at the dining table is because I can see the bird feeders from here. We've amassed quite the entourage. Yesterday we had a gorgeous little goldfinch, and there's almost always a hummingbird or two. The sparrows are practically a scourge, and there were several turtledoves a few minutes ago. Other than the bird poop on the patio, it's a nice view.

Today was my first day of school, and also my first day of lab. We did NOT get to choose our lab partners, much to my dismay. MUCH. All in all, though, it could have been worse. We have four in our group. I would like to say that each person seems to be reasonably lucid, nice and willing to put forth the effort needed to get through the class. Also, no smokers, which is a plus considering how often I am going to be in close proximity to them, and vice versa.

And now, the cast of characters:

The Expert. This is a girl who works in a local ER. In what capacity, I do not know. This is good, because we can all draw from her experience. She seems very capable.

The Token Male. Every nursing class has one, I suppose. We got him. He seems nice enough.

The Developmentally Arrested Middle Ager. This woman is sweet, but has me worried. She's either not going to be able to hack it, or she's going to end up getting bludgeoned. Most likely by me. For the entire duration of lab, we kept hearing her squeaking about how tiiii-neeeee she is (and she is...probably 4'8" and 85 lbs. soaking wet). But guess what? If you think you're too small to be able to do the job, maybe you should - I don't know - NOT SIGN UP FOR THE CLASS. Also, when I say she is sweet, what I mean is that she is sweeeeeeeeeeeet. She didn't like the idea of putting a gait belt on a patient (it's to keep them from falling as they try to move around), because it was "mean." And when we were learning bedpans and the logistics of peeing while lying down, she asked - and I quote - "but what if they make a pooh-bear?"

A POOH-BEAR, people. This is a grown woman. I ask you! Of course, we all cracked up laughing at the sheer silliness of calling it a "pooh-bear," to which she responded in her squeaky little voice, "oh, but I think it's sweet! So they don't get embarrassed!"

Ok, lady. First of all, there is nothing sweet about a bowel movement, no matter what puerile name you assign it. Second of all, patients are going to be far more embarrassed by the fact that their caregiver is treating them like a toddler being potty trained than by the fact that they just pooped.

Henceforth, I shall call her Pooh-Bear.

The role of class clown was unoccupied within our group, so I jumped on it. Hey...when half your class time involves lifting 200 lbs. of dead weight and discussions on the best way to keep raw sewage from spilling all over a bed, someone has to provide merriment. We'll see if I'm up to the task.