Friggatriskaidekaphobia

I'm not superstitious. But today, Friday the 13th, has been a day from h-e double hockey sticks.

Here's a glimpse at my day:

Work. Always fun.

My first few calls of the day were frantic pet owners calling because today was the day to put down their pets. It's always so hard distinguishing what is being said in between the sobs. I schedule one euthanasia in between appointments--a huge no no because of the typical chaos, but this was a bit of an emergent situation.

She comes in right before the tidal wave of calamity hits.

While her cat is being euthanized, everyone in the world comes in to the clinic. Lest you be fooled, the reception area is not large enough to hold the entire world's population.

One woman comes in with her dog and does not like the placement of the chairs, so she does the most logical thing: she drags a chair clear across the floor, with the chair screeching along, similar to the sound of nails on a chalk board.

Enter: the family with four large dogs. A wild time is had by all.

While the front reception area is filling up, the door to the exam rooms is closed because of the eternal euthanasia that is taking place behind closed doors. As a result, we're re-directing people back into the animal treatment area.

Meanwhile, my phone is ringing off the hook. People are staring at me. There is complete chaos everywhere. Typical phone conversations today go like this:

"Um yeah, hi. Iiiiiiii neeeeeeeeeed toooooooooo briiiiing innnn myyy doooooggggg......."

"Ok, what do we need to see them for?"

"uhhhhhhh....Iiiiiiiii thiiiink heeeeeeee haaaaaaasssss ________" and then they go into some wild story about something that I really have no idea what they're talking about that certainly has nothing to do with the problem in question. Trying to steer them back in the general direction of normality is a long forgotten thought.

Finally, the door that leads to the exam rooms is opened, but the owner of the cat has opted to stay in the room with their deceased pet. For four hours. Literally. That means unknowingly, people are walking by a woman and her dead cat to enter the second exam room.

Things calm down. In walks dapper young man. When he had called to make his appointment today, I said I was looking forward to seeing his puppy again and he said "Likewise. I mean, uh, you too, uh, yeah. See you"

So he's got the cutest chocolate lab puppy, and all things considered, he's a pretty nice guy. Except I found out recently that he threatened to beat my brother up many years ago, so it's pretty swell having this piece of secret information on him. I'm not going to tell him I know about his sordid past. Besides, he treats me great. Way to make things awkward by saying "Hey! Remember when you were a punk, back in the day?"

As he's checking out, he begins to test out the waters, first by saying that I can help the people behind him because he's got some things to ask me. 

My response: ?!?

Most every time I talk to an attractive young man, I feel like a buck tooth hillbilly with no ability to impress what-so-ever. I start thinking "Do I have food on my face? Are there things stuck in my teeth? Why did I wear this outfit today?" I'm very self conscious, contrary to popular belief.

He doesn't ask me, but tells me that we should go hiking sometime. I've noticed guys are very unique in their approach towards woman: some straight out ask, some hint, some are direct, some are indirect. It's all a jumbled mess. (And yes, I know: females do the same). As he's leaving, he tells me that he'll stop by in a few weeks to discuss hiking. You're going to do what? 

Guys, I've noticed, like to leave as little room as possible for girls to say no. Boys. So tricky.

After he leaves, I check in on the woman sitting with her deceased cat. I walk into the room, hand her a water bottle and proceed to talk to her about life in general. It struck me though as odd, (and slightly creepy) when we're both petting her cat who is lying quite dead on the table. She tells me "This is the longest I've ever been able to pet her! In the past, she would always bite me. This is nice" Yeah, I love petting dead cats, too. Favorite past time.  I kept expecting the cat to move. But what am I to do? There is no easy exit here. So we chat for an hour about death. Utterly uplifting.

She left with her cat, but hours later, another family member came back, dead cat in tow to shave off some of her fur for a keepsake. Did I mention they laid her body on the front counter? Excuse me ma'am; please don't put your purse down on this here counter. We had a dead cat here earlier getting a haircut. 

 Among other things that happened on this gem of a day:

• Somehow, my debit card "floated out" of my pocket while on my lunch break and some men who were cleaning the sidewalk (who cleans sidewalks?) found it and returned it to me in a completely mysterious fashion.
• A woman with a full blown goatee came into the clinic to buy some dog food.
• A woman with many missing teeth came in to schedule her dog for a dental because dental care is "vital" 
• I called a woman to remind her of her dog's upcoming surgery and she told me she couldn't, just couldn't talk to me or take a message. Then she disconnected. Mind you, she was an elderly lady.

 That's Friday the 13th for you. No men in hockey masks, but my goodness. I should have stayed home today.

I'm disgusting

Everyone does it. 

I know I'm not alone.

Have you ever purposefully avoided someone? Pretended you didn't see them or worse yet, seen someone you really didn't want to see and ran away from them, fast as your little legs can carry you? Twice in the last thirty days, an individual (whom I considered myself friends with) has ran for the hills upon realizing that I was in the same room as them. What I have done to them, I cannot fathom. It's awkward. I mean, what do you do about that? "Hey pal! Where ya headed off to?"

But, what goes around, comes around. 

There are two extremes that you ought to know about me. The first is, if I see you, and I really want to talk to you, I will turn into something akin to this picture on your right.

However, if I really don't want to see you, this is what will happen:

The above is an example of what I tried to accomplish this morning. I saw someone today that admittedly, I didn't really feel like talking to. So, I made a joke out of it, largely because that's how I handle awkward moments. I laughed, they laughed, and we all went on our way, laughing. No harm done. Right?

WRONG.

An hour later, I get a text from the person in question. 

The following is verbatim, spelling errors and all.


"Si for now, u pretty much said I'm disgusting uh?"


I thought he was joking, really I did. So I texted back:

"Unfortunately. Sad day." 
Okay, so in hindsight, this was not an intelligent response. Shoot me.


You ready for his response?

"Well, in that case u maybe the one disgusting, but ur not able to see it, and u think that other people is, I think you need to see ur doctor"


?!? 


Moving on with my day, I see my old African friend. (read this if you are confused) . After telling me how much he appreciates that I am always happy amidst all the unhappy people that he interacts with, he tells me, solemnly:


"You deserve everything you want. I'm serious. You'll get it."


You hear that, guys? I'm going to get everything I want! I'm making my list now! 

Interviews and Gonorrhea

Does anyone like job interviews?

Has anyone noticed that primarily what job interviews are is puffing yourself up in the presence of a potential employer to show them that not only are you great, you're also the best in your field (or have the potential), you love everything about life, and pretty much, you have absolutely no faults. At all. I once told an interviewer when asked "what is your biggest weakness?" "My biggest weakness is that I care too much".

*puke*

So I had a job interview today that I'm pretty sure that I will not be getting the position.

I walked into the Emergency Department, and while I am still currently employed there, I haven't worked there since November. I tell admitting who I am and then I take a seat, and I get those "I want to run away/hurl/vanish" feelings because little known secret: I get nervous really pretty easily. And when I get nervous, I turn into a foreign version of myself.

For example:

• My hands shake like a well advanced Parkinson's patient
• My heart beats about 1,000,000 beats per minute. Maybe more.
• That thing called "butterflies" in your stomach? I must have a butterfly infestation that threatens my life.
• I can't stop talking. I become this chatty Kathy, and start spewing off random information that no one cares about.
• If you think I smile a lot normally, you should see me when I'm dying from nervousness. It's like my facial muscles lose connection with my brain. Muscle spasms galore. 
• I laugh a lot more, even at things that really aren't all that hilarious. I'll catch myself and be like "SARAH! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!"

It's really quite terrible. And it's not just in job interviews that this happens; no. This happens whenever I meet with someone I don't really know. I know the party in question leaves wondering how such a demented person could make it so far along in life.

But I digress.

So the interview progresses and the first question is:

"Tell us about yourself. Is that a question you're comfortable answering?"

No!

I blab on for decades about who I am before I realize these people don't care who I am; they merely want to see if I am qualified for the job. 

Then: "If you were going to advertise yourself in the newspaper, what three words about you would be in bold?"

I would never advertise myself in the paper. Why the heck would I ever do that?

So I say, after much thought, with my two interviewers staring at me, "Honest....compassionate...dependable"

"If you absolutely had to choose between working in the ambulance and working in the Emergency room, which would you pick?"

This is where I blow it. I say, "Emergency room". I am asked why. I say some sort of nonsense about liking the environment and everyone working together in unison. 

Have I mentioned which position I was applying for? 

It's a job on an AMBULANCE. Not in the emergency room which has, in the past, bored the living daylights out of me. 

I was then asked, if I've spent any time in the back of an ambulance. I flash back to one of my clinical's back in EMT school when I spent almost the entire day sitting in one, chatting with a paramedic. 

After some more awkward "why I am so great" questions and answers, I am then asked to come down to the ambulance director's office for an "activity".

The activity? Starting an IV and doing a blood draw on a fake hand. It's been over a year since I started an IV. My first thought? 

I can't do this! What's a needle? What's an IV? What's a vain?!?

I take a moment, and then, just go with it. I had learned in anatomy that it takes a person a couple hundred times of repetition to get an action down so that they don't have to think about what they're doing. The action is solidified if you go over the steps in your mind. Lord knows last year I went over how to start an IV about a billion times for a moment such as this one.

Grabbing the fake hand, I start reciting the steps, announcing too, that above all else, I'd be wearing gloves. (Thanks EMT school. BSI forever).

And then, I go. I get my materials ready, I clean the area, pull traction, insert my needle (with hands shaking),  and.....nothing. There's supposed to be a flash of blood, but all this fake hand has is deadness. I'm assured that this is okay, and to pretend that Mr. Hand has had quite a nice flash. I extract the needle and then proceed to draw fake blood that doesn't actually come out. Finally, I flush out the area and proceed to tape the IV, but....there's no tape. This is probably the worst fake IV and blood draw ever.

Have I also mentioned that during this test there is a steady flow of EMS personnel filtering through the incredibly small office staring at me? 

Quite soon though, I am on my way with promises that they'll "be in touch" 

Right.....

~~~

Before I end, I do have one more small tidbit of a story to share.

My microbiology class had an awkward lab to do today.

Titled "How did I catch THAT???" My classmates and I each had to carry around a beaker filled with what was pretend body fluid. We had to randomly choose three people in which to....erhm...."sleep with" and exchange body fluids. 

Unfortunately, one person was, unknowingly, "positive" for gonorrhea and so by sharing their beaker of fluids with their three partners and so on, good ol' gonorrhea would be spread around, because in this instance, everyone was, well, you know....

Turns out, with the addition of the additive Phenolphthalein, we could readily test the beakers of fake body fluids and see who got gonorrhea because the fluids would turn bright pink. In turn, it would also (hopefully) be able to be traced back to the original carrier.

All my "partners" tested positive, which means, they spread it to their successive partners, which means that yours truly was the secret carrier of this STD. 

Hardy.

Har.

Har.

Higher education. Always edifying.

Rock on

The mountain man/hippie type:


Rugged.

Wild.

Beard. Big beard.

Hair. Long hair.

- - -

Work started out wild today. In between a tail amputation and a woman almost going ballistic because she was sick of caring for her allergy prone dog, my favorite co-worker, Kim, on a whimsical moment, handed me a fake diamond ring to wear when most needed.

Tucking it into my pocket, I soon forgot about it, lost in the hectic Monday.

Enter:
Mountain Man!

He is a relatively kind fellow, who loves [adores!] his wolf mix dog. However, she is getting up in her years, and he has decided of late that he wants to adopt a malamute puppy.

I try to be generic and converse with him but our initial conversation goes like this: (me in purple, he in blue)

"Hi! How are... good are you? you?
"I'm great! How is... How is work? ...your dog?"

As you can see, completely jumbled. And awkward. I don't like having mixed up conversations.

Cautiously avoiding his ever longing gaze (trust me, I know what I'm talking about here) he hands me his business card saying that he wants me to call him should I ever get the low down on a malamute puppy for sale.

Then, slipping it into the same sentence, he tells me to hey, just give him a call if I ever get:

A) Lonely
B) Bored
C) Hungry

He'll "entertain me".

Immediately, visions of a creepy cabin in the woods enters my mind.

A silence ensues. I stare at his beard. His long hair. His beard again.

I decide, facial hair is weird.

Then I do the most logic thing; I change the subject back to puppies. I wish, in this moment that I was wearing my faux diamond ring.

If ever questioned, (as I often am to my relationship status), I could quip:
"Yes, my non existent boyfriend gave it to me"

It would work charms! Wonders!

But alas. We talked about puppies. We talked about finding puppies on craigslist. We talked about exchanging a puppy for blown glass. (He's a glass blower).

Upon leaving, Mountain Man asks my name. I tell him and he says:

"Rock on"

Indeed, friends.

Rock. On.

On the brink

So there I was, tra-la-la-ing along, entering a commonly known store. A day like any other, I had just successfully completed my first microbiology exam, and had finished a rather pleasant meeting with a friend.

The sun was shining, the weather was warm, I was happy.

As I'm entering the store, intent on getting a few items, an employee approaches me, waving and smiling.

*CREEPER ALERT!*

Now this man has occasionally tried to converse with me, and sometimes I've gotten the impression that he thinks we know each other. We do not.

I try to go on my way, but he blocks me, and grabs my hand. He doesn't let go readily. I had to pry my digits away from this insane man.

Going from bad to worse, he hugs me.

WHY IS THIS MAN HUGGING ME?!?

I try, oh I try to pull away. But this guy isn't letting go anytime soon. So, I pull back, stepping back. I'm trying to run away, trying to move. but he won't let me.

HELP! 911! Axe murderer!

He starts talking, asking how I've been. I tell him I'm great, busy with school.

Meanwhile, my mind is racing, thinking of ways I can run away.

Suddenly, I get a text! He starts laughing and says "Ghost Buster's theme? I like it!"

....except that I don't have a Ghost Buster themed text message sound on my phone.

I keep ending the conversation, trying to walk away, but he's literally trying to keep me there, even introducing himself to me, and shaking and not letting go of my hand.

Literally pulling away from his grasp I turn in a last ditch effort to get away from him, I start walking. He meanwhile says it was "great seeing me". Speed walking away (running would look too frantic, but in hindsight, perhaps I should have), I quickly breeze through the store, thoroughly disgusted, grossed out, and creeped out (among many, MANY other things) and buy hand sanitizer. I put so much on that I actually rubbed some on my face just to kill any microbes from Mister Creeper.

Enough!

So two options here:

I'm getting a body guard
OR
I'm moving to the middle of no where and never leaving my home. Ever. Ever.
EVER.

Just in time for Valentines day!!!

The semester is off to a rip-roaring start.

My lab partner in microbiology has a bit of what you would call an attitude and spends most of our lab days arguing with the instructor and getting annoyed at the world of microscopic entities. In addition, she admits she's a "terrible lab partner" because of her "impatience", but that's beside the point. I'm used to her yelling at me, and then asking if we can hang out sometime. She also told me last week that she "has a lot of hate in her heart", but don't worry folks, we've discovered that she does much better if she steps out and smokes as I set up the experiment on our bi-weekly lab days. No biggie.

But the biggest--and best event thus far of the semester is the addition of my newest friend, a short in stature somewhat pudgy man directly from Africa. His accent is so thick I scarcely can understand a word that he is saying, and I oftentimes find myself mindlessly nodding to whatever he says to give the impression that I am pleasantly polite. But it's getting better.

By now, if you've read some of my adventures, you should know that I often find myself in unique and strange situations. Never once have I initiated contact with this man, but wouldn't you know; I think I've got a new admirer.

It began with a whole lot of staring. I'm lucky because this man is in all my classes, so I get the opportunity to get stared at a lot by him. It's like a set routine: wake up, drive to school, go to class, get stared at, drive home.

Perfect!

But one day as I entered my micro classroom early, so early there was only two other people including my African pal, he says to me:
"How is she?!?"

I look around. She?

I ask him to repeat himself, and he gestures towards me and says "how is she?!?"

Aah. She. Me. Of course. I respond that I am well, and then sit down directly two rows and diagonal to where he sits. Plenty of time to have the back of my head studied!

Shortly before class begins, a hand taps my shoulder. I turn around, slightly spooked because well, I don't really like people touching me when I don't expect it.

Anyhow, it's my new pal, telling me that I've dropped my scarf, but that's he retrieved it for me.

Be still my beating heart.

A few days later, there we are in class, my "heart full of hate" lab partner in full fledged fury because the bacteria we had tried to grow was a complete and utter failure.

I make way to the back of the classroom to wash my hands, and am stopped by my comrade who asks me how the bacterial growth experiment is going. I explain that it is not so good; no microbes were able to be viewed.

He then tells me that:

"I am so pure" that if we as a class were to do a buccal swab (cheek swab) that there would be absolutely nothing to be seen under the microscope. You see friends, I am apparently without germs. Without cells. Without.....anything but purity.

Dot, dot, dot.

I mean really, what do you say to that? "Gee thanks!" or "glad you think so!"

The weekend passes, and here I am, back in school today on an arctic cold, snowy day.

Side note and random Sarah fact: When I get super cold, my lips turn blue. Yes, blue. No lie. It's really attractive looking.

But anyhow, my micro teacher lectures for a million hours about the electron transport chain and then at long last, we get a ten minute break. Seizing the opportunity, I step out into the hall to get a drink of my fantastic ice tea.

No bueno. Old cohort is there, looking at the window. Right next to my bottle. Can I drink it real quick without him noticing me? Should I turn the other direction?

Alas, my thinking was not quick enough.

He asks me if I am warm. I reply "no, I am cold", easily seen through my blue lips and crossed arms, trying desperately to maintain body heat. It is a battle I am always losing.

He tells me that I live in the wrong area. A chuckle is shared. He tells me that I would "really like Africa" and proceeds to tell me how in Africa, you can be "warm and hot at the same time" and just continually pour out sweat from every area of the body that is capable of sweating.

I stare blankly at him. He gathers that sweating profusely is not my idea of paradise. He then asks me, what weather do I crave? I reply simply that the weather I like is one where I can wear a short sleeve shirt without being cold. I'm not asking for the world here.

He asks where I live. I tell him. He then proceeds to tell me how he would really like to visit my town.

Another moment of silence ensues.

He asks how to pronounce my name. Is it pronounced "Sar-ha or "Sar-ah" ? I tell him how I typically pronounce my name, but tell him that how other's pronounce my name is completely up to them. He tells me that he will make sure to pronounce my name correctly and will be sure to always remember it.

As our conversation goes on, (bet you didn't know that ten minutes could go on so long) another girl joins our conversation. I want to hug her.

He asks, looking pointedly at me, how we study. The girl who has joined the conversation says she only studies alone because group studying is only for people who are slacking off in class and whom are looking for all the answers without any of the work. I'm somewhat inclined to agree, and pipe in how I really don't enjoy the people who, ten minutes before the exam, ask for deep and complex subjects to be explained in total and complete detail.

This makes him laugh. And laugh and laugh and then he tells me how funny I am. True. I am pretty hilarious.

...

Making our way back into the classroom, we sit for another thirty hours as it's explained how to identify the bacteria of the family enterobacteriaceae. In case you're dying to know what that is: (http://www.merriam-webster.com/medical/enterobacteriaceae)

At long last, we set up for the experiment, and in a moment of pure love, he hands me the distilled water we'll need for the experiment. I say "for me?" and he tells me "Of course. Who else?"

I think I'm the luckiest woman possibly ever.

Try not to be jealous.

The Dilemma

My brother made this just for me. It is the story of my love life. I laughed till I cried.

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/8194337