I'd explain my absence from blogger, but I think everyone has pretty much heard about the seven tests, two presentations and paper I had at the beginning of the month leading up to last weeks fall break, which marked the start of my new job.
So I'll start with the newest development: financial aid. I was awarded another loan, this one that covers tution and then some, meaning I can give an update of the London Fund, which is alive and well, sitting at $750 and awaiting another contribution after disbursment.
And so with the new job and a pending influx of cash, it's time to get a place of my own again. Maybe something closer to both school and work, and someplace
cool. So my first stop in scouting a new place to live was Oklahoma City's arts district, The Paseo.
Unfortunately, the apartment hunt got off to an inauspicious start. My first stop was at
Galileo for a light lunch of soup and fried olives, washed down with a Bass Ale. But it was just a few steps out the door when I stepped on a crack in the sidewalk, causing my left ankle to turn and my right knee to come slamming down onto the concrete. A middle-aged guy standing in front of me flail about before whacking my knee, and was able to hold his huge smile until he entered the nearest shop. I could still hear him burst out laughing after the door closed.
But I've turned my injury into a positive: One of the tests I took recently was on wound care. Now I get to practice what I learned on myself. I have to say I'm amazed at what all I've learned in just a little over two months. It was really evident as I went through mu nursing orientation at the hospital.
But I think the most interesting stuff I've learned lately has to be from my gastrointestinal lecture. It was taught my Danielle, the evening instructor. She stands about 4 feet 10 inches and is as cute as a button, especially when she says the word "poop." She doesn't like saying bowel movement, so she probably said "poop" at a rate of 50 times per hour during the lecture.
She lectured us for two days, and for some reason on the second day she stopped using the term rectum, instead referring to it as the "bobo," as in: "if a patient has a fecal impaction, you do a digital disimpaction by taking your finger and sticking it up the
bobo."
I have to admit, if I ever need to answer "fingerfucking" on a test again I can put "digital vaginal stimulation." Of course, Danielle would probably just phrase it as "sticking your finger in her hoo-ha and goin' to town."
But after hearing "bobo" more and more it was hard for me to keep a straight face at that point, but when Danielle stopped the lecture to ask me what I was laughing about.
I told her I still hadn't gotten past what she had told us about her experiences with gerbils as a GI nurse. Neither had the rest of the class, and opened up a flood of responses from everyone.
Apparently the urban myth about sticking gerbils up the rectum is true. But what I nor anyone else in the class had heard about was that the most common reason to put a small rodent up your butt isn't a sexual thing; it's to get high.
The rectum is a mucous membrane, and the quickest way to get medications into your system, other than an IV, is through the bobo. So to get the most effective high, you roll a gerbil in cocaine and stick it in the fudge factory. The gerbil will be in contact with the rectal walls, as well as stimulate the vagus nerve.
Of course the big problem is when you can't get the little ass-spelunker out (we also learned from Danielle that you don't use hamsters because they don't have tails). And so it's something she's seen many times.
I have to admit, Danielle -- as weird as she is -- makes me wish I'd applied to the evening program instead. Not only are her lectures interesting, to say the least, but I'd also get to sleep in every day, and I wouldn't have up to four tests a week.
But even though GI is done, I haven't seen the last of Danielle. We're now co-workers at the hospital.
She lectured us for two days, and for some reason on the second day she stopped using the term rectum, instead referring to it as the "bobo," as in: "if a patient has a fecal impaction, you do a digital disimpaction by taking your finger and sticking it up the bobo."
Well, she got the camera; a Largan Chameleon XP, which sells for about $40 online. No digital display, no expandable memory and no zoom capabilities. It's not much of a camera -- 350,000 pixel resolution, while my cell phone has a resolution of 1.3 megapixels. 
A 2003 Lexus ES 300 with 54,000 miles, leather interior with wood trim, moon roof, power everything and probably plenty of other features I don't even know exist. And she paid more than twice as much for it than she did for her '98 Honda Civic, which she even admits is the most dependable car she has ever had. But she says she was embarrassed to be seen in it -- it was too small and too cheap. So now she'll be paying more for insurance, gas and maintenance to go along with the big car payment.
And speaking of ex-attorneys, there's kc, who has a long list of things she's better at than me, but I'm really jealous of how her drawing is coming along. (for those of you wondering, yes, her sandal really does look just like that). I've also bought books on drawing and writing for comics; kc's almost done with her first comic.
Through kc I met Rick, who's really into rock climbing; he has the most buff hands I've ever seen. But what really makes me shake my head is how he knows as much or probably more than film about me, and his cinema studies he did on his own. Sure I've got an actual degree to show for it (still stuffed in the back seat of my car), but he's not saddled with more than $30,000 in student loan payments.
I've always conceded that Ruben is the better dancer, but he's another amateur film buff like Rick; Wes and I took all the classes, but Ruben is just at good at analyzing a film.
I took my first photography class in ninth grade, and had a passive interest in it since. I even took a lot of photos for the OU paper. And everyone who's seen her blog knows how good Jill is at taking photos.
"Open bed?" she asked. "You mean 'open bedpan,' right?"