Sunday, September 22, 2013

Almost There

My supervisors don't show me as much deference as this man is presumably showing Mr. Prez.
I was supposed to show up at noon today, but the fog lifted early, so I arrived at 11:00, and the head honcho said I could start my shift early because there was plenty of work.  I did all sorts of things - a WBC count, a possible leukemia slide (they'll re-test and follow up to verify before delivering any news like that) and an analysis of a kidney stone, which is near and dear to my own heart [sarcasm font].  We

We measured the stone, then compared for overall appearance to make an educated guess as to its composition. We then broke it and put different sections into different solutions to test for reaction. It ended up being the usual, which is the good old calcium oxalate stone.  It wasn't especially large - 5 mm by 6 mm, but plenty large enough to cause its bearer some intense pain. The bad news is that calcium or calcium oxalate are the most likely to reoccur. Having given birth to just one of the things, I can sympathize.

I typed up six reports of lab findings. Of course my reports are always checked for accuracy by one of the real employees, as it wouldn't do to send out a report from a college intern without a professinal checking the report for accuracy.  Nothing needed to be changed on any of my reports. The only suggestion given to me was that I tended to be wordier than necesary in the report. My supervisor said use complete sentences if I must, but make it to the point so the doctor receiving it doesn't have to read the equivalent of  Gone with the Wind to determine whether or not a patient has HIV. My reports weren't so wordy that the superviser  redid  anything; he just told me to try to be a little more succinct in the future. I hope I'm able to do at least one or two tomorrow in the three hours I work so that  I can attempt to be less wordy.

Tonight when I finished work and arrived at my aunt's and uncle's house, it was close to dinner time. After dinner, I was, as usual, bombarded with requests from my cousins to play games. I played one game of chess with each of them. My uncle says I can toy with them a bit occasionally to lengthen the game, but that I should not ever allow them to win unless they're beating me on their on because he doesn't want them to get the idea that they're smarter or better than they actually are. He prefers, in fact, that I play them as I would any adult, so that they can measure their progress by how they do against me, which is tough to do if I'm deliberately making mistakes to prolong the game. I then played both of them and Uncle Steve in Scrabble.  We do allow them to occasionally browse the dictionary, which would be considered cheating  under orthodox Scrabble rules, but it levels the playing ground a bit and keeps them from being total non-contenders.
I ended up beating Uncle Steve by a mere two points. I don't usually beat him. I think the difference for me is the obscure vocabulary I've picked up in some of my more esoteric classes. Uncle Steve challenged my use of the word leptokurtic. We use Oxford Unabridged dictionary,so the weird words I've picked up from classes are usually in there, and we also allow internet sources to check on specialized terms. If I pull one more word in the leptokurtic category and he challenges and loses, I'll likely be able to make up words at will that he won't dare challenge. Tomorrow I'm working from 10:30 to 1:30, then heading home. My Uncle Michael and Uncle Steve and their families are coming to my parents' house for dinner. The children will all want to play with each other, plus Matthew and my cousin who left his mission early will be there, and they're both much more exciting attractions than I am. I can practice and sleep until dinner without any interference from children. My godmother is coming to decorate my dorm room on Monday. The dorm was short one bed because some overweight freshman had sex on a bed and broke it, so my aunt told them she didn't mind providing a bed herself. She found a twin-style bed that also has a bed that folds under it in the event that I have company. It will have a Westin mattress on top, so it will be high off the ground, but that does not bother me. She'll use similar color schemes to what I have in my room because it's the most homey for me, and when I'm in an apartment next year, I can take various stuff from home and from the dorm to furnish my apartment. She bought the sofa that I can't remember if I showed anyone that looks like a piano keyboard. It's not terribly comfy, but it's cute. I'll move into the dorms officially on Wednesday. It is not as though my parents are getting rid of me totally, because I will do most of my practicing at home each day, as I don't want any of the competition to know just what it is I'm working on. Depending upon my next-door neighbors, I should be able to practice in the dorm a bit. I don't want to abuse my dorm neighbors' charity, but an hour a day on violin doesn't seem excessive, and I have a digital piano with weighted keys mfor which I can use headphones. It's at least as good as the pianos available in the practice rooms in the music department. I'm merely spoiled because we have a Steinway and two Kawais at home. So changes are on the horizon, and change is generally a good thing.

This blog has ended. Go now in peace to love and serve the Lord and to try to avoid kidney stones if you're able, as passing them is the very essence of pain.


  1. Pathology really seems interesting, if not gross at times. Having lived in a dorm and an on campus apartment for my seven years of school, I think I'd rather live at home... although living away from home does give you the chance to be more "adult" with no parents nearby.

    My parents were pretty underprotective, though, and wanted me to move out of their house ASAP! In any case, I pretty much hate sharing walls with people. I hope I never have to live in a communal building again.

  2. My parents and I agree that I need some sort of transition between home and living at least hundreds of miles away, as much as it kills me to leave my perfct room with the bench of my own grand piano a mere sten steps from my bed. I'll come home basically every weekend and anytim I'm sick, and probably other times just because. I have the added benefit of not having a roommate in the dorm. While these kids in the dorms will be basically my age, their maturity level won't be the same as mine.

    It's weird. because I'm moving out of the house, sort of, in part to associate with age-level peers, so that Ican go off to med school next yar to be around people who are a minimum of three years oldre than I am.