try to figure out this life

Its quite late and i spent a whole day glued to a chair, studying mental health. I like that subject, its interesting especially personality disorders. Third year is coming to a close, provided I pass my exams and my life seems to be taking some sort of shape. I put on a brave face and take it because basically I haven't a choice in the matter, at this stage it is really just a question of do or die. So in this instance of no other option, I use choice in the only way I could and this is in my attitude. I believe its very comfortable to be depressed. It takes real guts to try to fight the most natural emotion one would feel in this position. The thing is, I have been fighting many different battles for the past three years; language barriers, classmates who are not exactly my kind of people, shit, piss and vomit; so why should I stop now?
The actual career of nursing in a hospital and getting a real pay and being part of the real adult world is not so far away anymore. In first year and second year I used to goof off so much because it all seemed so distant. But its here and I had better not fuck the whole thing up.
So now the real challenge is here. Not only in the form of written work and practice, but the notion that my career is set. There is no time to turn back. It would not even make any sense to back out now, when I am finally getting what I want, that all hallowed degree, the small bit of paper showing I am of some use to society.
Like every other university student I will do my thesis and slave away at my final year in order to be able to say good bye to studying forever. The funny thing is that I actually do wish to read for a masters which is quite a paradox to getting rid of studying forever...I'm simply inviting more work in, apart from hopefully being qualified and working inhumane shifts at the hospital. So why am I so excited to finish anyway?
I guess its because getting your first degree is like closing a chapter in one's life. Its sort of like, you got a degree, partly because you wanted it, it was what all your friends were doing and partly to put your parents' mind at rest and the rest is up to you. You did your duty. Now its time to decide what to really do with your life. Thus a new chapter is opened and this time its really in our hands. We will be 22 years old, our parents do not matter any more, our friends become insignificant and its the rest of our life, laid out on a table, waiting to be sliced up and distributed as we please. Or maybe I just see it this way.
Everyone I meet says that being a student is the best time of one's life. But I disagree. I can not wait to make that step, to be on that podium with my graduation hat and toga. That marvelous feeling of going home after a day's work, and not feeling that guilt that you should be studying, even though you are dead tired and your legs can not carry the weight of your body anymore. I can not wait to be able to just sit down on the couch and watch television after work and say fuck everyone, this is my time and I am guilt free.
Good-bye third year. It was fun. Actually it wasn't, but its fun to think I am a year closer to obtaining my goal.

the music moves me

There are many aspects of nursing that are not obvious to those who are not in the profession. There is the pain, the suffering, but most of all there is the humour, which is most often the emotion I try to express. This is not an easy task, but what really helps me is applying a certain song to a situation. This nurse life is all about the music that keeps me from crying with despair.
The songs which I find funniest are when they include someone's name. Lately this woman was admitted to the ward by the name of Cecilia. She had a hairy chin, bad breath, stains down her shirt and only four very brown teeth. Somebody, please tell Simon and Garfunkel that this Cecilia is not breaking anyone's heart and the only way she can shake someone's confidence is if she breathes on them! And ofcourse, how could i possibly forget Denis? Denis, Denis avec les yeux tres bleu! Well, this Denis was young, handsome and really did have big beautiful blue eyes. The thing is, he pronounced Denis as Dee-nis, rhyming with that organ between any healthy male's legs. I started to imagine Debbie Harry singing “Dee-nis, Dee-nis avec a big red....”
Sometimes I think of songs in times of complete irony. I remember having to clean up an old lady who was given an enema the night before. For those who are not familiar with enemas, they basically consist of a pump which is placed in the arse and lets out liquid to soften stool. Therefore, when I found this patient that morning, she was literally sleeping in her own shit. The jovial tune, “Wake up its a beautiful morning” came to mind and I thought to myself, well, that song certainly was not written for me! And then I realised the shit had traces of blood in it and I thought of that awful 90s hit “Things can only get better”. Yeah, right! Or the time I worked in orthopaedics and this man was wheeled in with two broken legs in plaster...I thought of Nancy Sinatra and said to myself, well, this guy won't be wearing boots for a long time!
And then there are those rare times when the song is well adapted to the scenario. Like the time I was wheeling and old lady on a stretcher to the operating theatre with a colleague. When we approached a bend in the corridor I started to sing “With everything, turn,turn,turn!” and to my surprise, the old lady started to sing along with me and it was one of the most beautiful feelings I had ever experienced.
Yes, the patients do actually have a knowledge of music. I remember an old man who was slightly demented singing “Jolene! Jolene! JOLENE!!!” at the top of his voice. During visiting hours, this pretty young woman with a young child asked if she could visit, even though kids are not allowed. I turned to the kid and said “Only if you're quiet. What's your name sweetheart?” “Jolene” she answered promptly. Of course, I let her in. And how can I forget Carmela? She was a fan of Maltese folk music and whenever a nurse would approach her they would tell her “Carmela, sing us a song.” and she always had a different one lined up for us. One evening I took her some tea and she sang to me a song which translates to:
Your mouth won't say it
Though you are bright of eye
say what you must
Don't be afraid, don't be shy.
I was so touched. I thought it was such a lovely thing to say on her part.
There are days when I go to work and feel very unappreciated. And then there are those times where my job decides to play a different tune. The patients make up my notes, my manuscript and even though sometimes one or two of them are slightly off, it simply gives the melody a little more character. There is a song by a group called M People, who are not exactly my favourite, but at the end of a long day I often think of one of their songs...
“What have you done today to make you feel proud...”

ok...

so this afternoon has turned into this evening and im meant to be studying for exams but its the last thing i feel like doing. the funny thing is i dont really feel like doing much of anything at the present except sit on my bed and read hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy and drink coffee. unfortunately, i need to be reading a guide to mental health nursing. the funny thing is, hitch hikers guide will turn you quite mental and make you think about things you wud otherwise never really think of...or else just things you think all the time but think its silly to talk about them or give them importance. but douglas adams does. does that make any sense?

im listening to really corny music at the moment...some 80's crap, but sumtimes its fun to let down the intellectual barriers and become a courgette for the evening...a boiled courgette...

right now im listening to the tears for fears version of mad world. well, i've come to the conclusion long ago that we live in a very mad world.

Malta is pretty mad...when u think about it...i mean, where ese does everyone know everyone else's family and their history and their business....well, its enough to drive someone mad.

yeah, im going mad...slowly but surely. but its in my genes so i guess i have an excuse.

just came home from a day of work

today i spent my morning in a freezing cold operating theatre watching a woman have half her boob cut off. with every cut i felt a part of her womanhood being lost and i thought how unfair that it is her and not me. they placed the tumour in a jar and in this glass case to be taken to the lab. not only was this woman mutilated, but it was also put on show, look everyone, see how great modern medicine is.

now im at home and ironically im hearing the song apply some pressure...how funny, thats exactly what the doctor did to that woman's left breast.

if when this course is over i dont end up mentally deranged, then i'll consider myself lucky.

Today in the canteen we were discussing the occult and the paranormal and ghosts and such like. all my colleagues seemed to have some interesting story of how their houses were haunted or they saw a spirit of an old teacher. one of the gozitans among us told us of this man called fenc tal-gharb, who was able to tell if someone is ill or not depending on how much faith they showed in him. personally, i find it hard to believe, but the paranormal is not something id like to dabble in...somethings are better off kept a mystery...

like, did i really need to know wat that breast tumour looked like?

first ever blog! woo hoo

well, this is my first ever post after many people have told me to start a blog to tell my nurse stories. however, lately i have been told that my stories are more like episodes or newspaper articles so i dont call them nurse life stories anymore.

well today i am really pissed off and bored...have exams in a few weeks and maybe that is why though i choose not to believe it. i feel like everything is hunky dory and there is nothing to look forward to, especially in a country like malta. my bf tells me malta is brilliant because u can go near the sea everytime u want but i dont give a shit about the sea, i couldnt care less. the mentality of many of the people on this island drives me absolutely nuts and nothing at this point would give me greater pleasure than to leave...but money and my degree at this point stand in my way...and the fact that i sold my soul to the government and tied myself up for 3 yrs.

well, today is just a bad day...wait thats not even true. i always feel this way, i just go through life trying not to think about it to make myself a more aimable person...in a way its like analgesia...the pain and illness is still there, just ur not acknowledging it.