Patience, patients

In nursing school we are taught that every patient is an individual, with individual needs and that the patient is unique and unlike any other.

Bull shit.

It is not politically correct, but patients can be categorized based on appearance, behaviour, odour and perverted comments. I have taken the liberty of publishing my analysis which has took me four years and it is most probably not yet concluded.

Oh what a fright
These are the patients who are afraid of everything. And I mean everything. A typical conversation with a patient like this is as follows:

*nurse approaches patient.

Patient: EEK!! what are you going to do to me?!

nurse: Nothing. I just wanted to ask if you needed assistance to wash yourself this morning.

Patient: AARGH! NO! EEK! How will I wash?

nurse: erm...um...with soap and water, perhaps?

Patient: ARGH! (patient promptly puts his head under his blanket)

Sigh. Next!


The chatterbox
These are the ones who can't shut up. Oh, and these generally constantly try to make you their personal slaves.

Nurse: Hi Mrs Jones, I just need to take your blood pressure and be on my way...
(hah! fat-bloody-chance!)

Mrs Jones: Oh nurse Pica, how are you! Is my blood pressure high?well,ifitis,itsallmymother'sfaultbecausehersideofthefamilyallsuffered
fromveryhighbloodpressurebecauseshedrankwhileshewaspregnantwithmeso
ImadesuretoneverdrinkwhileIwaspregnantwithmyMollywhobythewayhasabigpimpleonherleft
buttockwhichhaslatelyfilledwithpusanditstinkstohighheaven.
whatdoyouhavetodotobecomeanurse?mustyoudoalevelsbecausemyMollycan
doalevelseventhoughsheisnotverybrightbutshecanuseherheadonlyifshewantstoherboyfriendisa
doctoryouknowisyourboyfriendadoctor?Iguessnotyoudon'tlookthedoctor-lovingtypewithyourlargebehindandallihearddoctorslikethemsveltewhichyouarebutnotquiteif
youknowwhatImean...

Nurse: erm, yes I'd love to stay and chat (tremendous lie!) but I have other patients to look after...

Mrs Jones: OhokthenIwon'tkeepyouasecondlongerjustinformthedoctorthatIamreadyandwaitingforhim,
wellactuallydon'tbecausethatsoundsdesperatehee!hee!hee!wellinallhonestyI'mhappilymarriedtoalovelyyoungermanisn'tthatjustfabulous?okyoucangonow! Toodles!

Nurse: stuffitupyourdaughter'spimplyarse.

Mrs Jones: pardon?

Nurse: Have a lovely day and if you need anything call me! *insert sweet smile here.*

Crazy
Woo hoo hoo, we have LOADS of these. In fact, these should be categorized within their own rite.

• nudists: they feel the need to get naked even if its not bath time.
• the ones who call you their cats' names because they forgot yours
• the ones who throw things at you or pull your hair if you try to wash them
• biters
• the ones who claim to have slept with you at some point

and the list goes on and on and on.

Match makers

they all have the perfect man for me and he will most often be tattooed,toothless,jobless,witless and unfortunately, not odourless.

Sexually frustrated

While helping them bathe, they ask you specifically to wash them extra well between their legs (male or female) and to apply mosturizing cream, they purposely ask you to bend down and they "accidentally" grab on to your tunic while turning them so that the snap buttons come undone and your bra will be exposed to the patient and the other nurse that's helping you. With the more experienced patient, he will wait until your hands are full because your positioning him and then he lashes out at the tunic when you can't let go to fix it.

Then ofcourse there are those who...well...take care of themselves...if you know what I mean and you have to just be sure not to walk in on them.

The fuss pot

You give an injection.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! You're killing me!!! I will bleed to death!"

You check their blood glucose.

"OOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!! You'll go to hell for this! Bitch! Child of Satan! Rosemary's baby!"

You wash their face.

"You're gonna drown me! HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!"

(if they are also part of the Crazy category, add some biting, throwing things and then calling you Ginger)

and ofcourse, the very rare Average Sick person.

He is admitted.

He stays in bed.

He bathes regularly.

He takes his pills.

He feels better.

He is discharged.

However, if there were many of these life would get boring. What makes my job interesting is the range of people I encounter, how I react to them and how they react to me. These reactions build up a relationship and upon this relationship a care strategy is built. And even though sometimes my patients can be a little unorthodox, I treat them equally and whereas many of their characteristics are the same, our relationships are different and I guess thats why I am successful.

I can make movies!

how cool is this! check out the following links:

movie 1:

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=636099

movie 2:

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=636157

movie 3:

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=636240

movie 4:

http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/playuk.php?id=636299

i made them all myself!!!!!

Another day for you and me in paradise

Today was a quiet day, even though there were 40 patients in my ward, mostly bed ridden and rather sick.

Its really grey outside, raining...i took the above photo just this morning while looking out the window at hospital, taking a few moments to think about life before i started the daily routine. I think these moments are when I think mostly clearly and realistically, when I see "the big picture" and realise how really very small I am in this vast world and even though I am just one person, I am still making a difference and doing my best to keep people happy.

Lately I read "The curious incident of the dog in the night time" and it was able to tug at my heart strings and make me feel a certain amount of hope and love. I realised how so many people try to be something they aren't and here is this boy, so honest that he doesn't know how to be anything else and he is therefore loveable. Oh, if only we all knew how to be ourselves. And many people argue that they don't know who that is...well, ofcourse not, most of us were taught how to be someone else from such an early age, no wonder most of us are so confused!

With my patients, I can honestly say I am myself but within reason. when i am in a bad mood, i don't show it. When I couldnt be arsed about what they have to say, I listen anyway...well actually i guess i should consider these instances as being myself...having patience is part of my formidable self, perhaps?

my back hurts...i think im off to be my sleepy self! much love, y'all.

Emergency! Emergency!

well monday was most certainly busy. To give you all a clear and concise idea of what went on, I will present my day in point-form, highlighting the most...erm...fascinating parts.

1) We have this crazy patient in our ward. He gets out of bed and tries to eat ALL the medicines in the cabinet and he tried to chew the lock off the dangerous drug cabinet...oh, and the whole time he did it, he was naked. This was an interesting plan, because due to his nudity none of the nurses really wanted to touch him to physically get him out of the treatment room.

2) He stinks of shit. After he was scrubbed by two brave male nurses, he STILL smelt of shit...even after they doused him in baby powder and shampooed his hair (which was stuck to his head with grime.) While this went on, he tried to beat up the nurses and insulted the Virgin Mary and tried to drown himself in his own bath water.

3) Due to his agressive and self mutilatory behaviour, he had to be restrained and tied to a chair. First we just put a sheet round his waist and tied it up at the back of the chair, but he managed to undo it and then proceed to get naked. We caught him and dressed him. This time we brought out the harness which provides full upper and lower body restraint.

4) He managed to get his arms free and started to slither off the chair, but his head couldnt get through the neck-hole of the harness and it started to act like a noose. The man turned purple and blue while the nursing officer and I grabbed his putrid feet and pushed him up to safety while the rest of the staff tied him up again.

5) While in the treatment room washing my hands I hear a familiar sound: *cough* *cough* ELOURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! *pitter* *patter* *splatter*

6)Shit. Someone vomited. His bed was a mess of bright lemon-yellow vomit, it was on his gown, on the floor, in his hair, on his hands...and ofcourse the relative, who must have had a stroke of genius, instead of using the numerous vomit bags on his bedside table, used his bare hands to catch the mess.

7) Needless to say, this man had to be washed and settled all over again.

8) All of a sudden, the emergency buzzer in one of the rooms goes off and we all drop everything and run in that direction...only to find out that one of the less brilliant students tried his hand at inserting a nasogastric tube without supervision. Instead of going through the nostril and down to the stomach, it went through the nostril and OUT OF THE PATIENT'S MOUTH!

9) the problem was quickly remedied and order was restored.

Well, that's basically it. The hospital...its a full life.

Yet another round for the rat race

This weekend was a full one, with dancing, drinking and thesis writing. Tomorrow I go back to my calling in life, helping sick people. However, this weekend I really got thinking.

Isn't it amazing at what a high esteem we hold people in the entertainment business? Actors, singers, footballers, supermodels. It makes no sense to me, the way we feel so honoured to be in some famous actor's presence or in the presence of a singer. Aren't they just people like you and I? The only difference they have is luck...being in the right place and at the right time. Singers do nothing to get their voice...they were born with it. Actors could go to acting school...yet if there isn't underlying talent then it won't work, therefore even they were born with their abilities...it all depends on luck. Yet these are the people we are in awe of, these are the people considered successful and worst of all...better than ourselves, the unfamous, the little people. Really and truly, we admire people because they do something which we feel we can't but would love to. But at the end of the day, these people did nothing to get the voice they have, or the talent they have or the looks. And once potential actors/singers hit the big time, they get the pay cheque to match.

And what about us nurses, who put ourselves in potential danger almost every day? Working with contagious and deadly diseases, hurting our backs and hands when lifting and handling patients...basically helping the unfortunate, helping people who can't be blamed for the state they are in. So where's my Oscar? Where's my Golden Globe? Where's my Grammy? Who is putting me on a platform and admiring me, feeling honoured to be in my presence, thinking their evening was a sucess because i decided to turn up?

Nobody. Except my patients, who I love. And I guess that's what matters the most because all in all, there is very little difference between the ill and the singers/actors/models...most of them did not do anything to get to the state they are in now... only the sick were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Good night everybody, much love.

I am slowly but surely beginning to hate my thesis

grrrr! i need to find research studies about stoma care...i need to purchase them but i have no clue on how to use the rcn library and ordering forms and i don't know who i can turn to for help! there are articles everywhere, but i need research studies!

help somebody out there!

I found this drawing sweet

shit,death,blood

Today was rather...erm...eventful, yes.

For some reason us final students were not allocated our 4 patient to practice for our exam but were used as an extra pair of hands. When I tried to protest I was quickly shut up. I thought oh well, I wasn't even going to turn up at work today anyway and I might aswell get to know other patients on the ward rather than the usual 4-8 I take care of usually.

Therefore I took on Johnny, the patient in bed 24. He was a fully dependent patient, with a tube up his nose, in his vein and up his you-know-where. He had a stroke and he was totally paralysed and couldn't talk at all. And he was covered with blankets up to his nose. And my friend and I had to bathe this dude.

So I grabbed the top most blanket, the heaviest one and yanked it off the bed. What I did not know was that this man had pressure ulcers on his elbows and that the bandages were stuck to the blankets, therefore they were savagely yanked off aswell and there was blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere...all over my apron, my gloves, his mattress...

Oh my God, Oh my God, Lord help me, Oh Jesus. I ran to the treatment room to get saline, bandages and a sterile pack of swabs and proceeded to clean the carnage. That was crisis number one.

Crisis 2 and 3 were far worse. There was the most God awful smell radiating from his nappy. I put on gloves and decided to be a hero and open it up. Holy shit. Literally. It was the most severe case of melena I have ever seen in my life. For those not in the know, melena is copious amounts of bloody, liquidy faeces with a very offensive odour. It was like a large jar of Nutella exploded in his nappy. And, it was caked around his catheter. When I cleaned the catheter, there was blood all over the tubing which meant that he inevitably had a urinary tract infection or UTI...ie: his pee-hole was diseased.

Crisis 4: When we turned this patient over, he had a bedsore all over the tail of his spinal cord, exactly where the ass crack starts. When we pulled off the nappy in its entirity, the Hydrocolloid protecting the sore disintegrated and therefore the sore was also caked in shit and blood and decomposing skin. Whoever thought the human body could be so foul? So first I clean the shit (which was no easy task) and then I set to work on the bedsore. When it was all over, I threw the heavy and smelly nappy away and set to work dressing and positioning my patient.

That is when crisis number 5 took place. The doctor stuck his head in the door and I told him that the patient has severe melena and a possible UTI.

Doctor: can I see the nappy?
Me: Why?
Doctor: so I can see the melena.
Me: I threw it away...
Doctor: Yes...can you fetch it?
Me: What?! From the garbage filled with a whole mornings worth of shitty nappies and bandages? Thats round about 20 nappies!
Doctor: Yes...can you fetch it?
Me: You have got to be kidding.
Doctor: No I'm not, its really important.

So I dig into the garbage and after opening 4 incorrect nappies (yet all equally foul) I find the one formerly worn by my patient. I open it for the doctor.

Doctor: Yes....its melena. You can chuck it now.

I told him its fucking melena! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! sigh.

As if that wasn't enough, a relative came up to me and said "I don't know if I'm meant to tell you, but it looks like my mother isn't breathing." I went close to her and felt her carotid pulse and I felt the strangest feeling in my life...my heart skipped a beat because her pulse wasn't there. My colleague told me later that the expression on my face was comically surprised. "Did she leave us?" I replied "I'm afraid I think so." and I ran to call a qualified nurse and got the priest on the phone. I have experienced dying patients before, but this is the first time I actually felt the waxy feeling of skin, the cool numbness. I closed the patient's mouth and drew the curtains and called the doctor to declare her as dead.

I went home later with a migraine which i slept off. I woke up at around dinner time and helped make dinner with my dad for my mum and siblings. And I realised when I sat with my family and got off the phone with my boyfriend, what happens at hospital doesn't have to be brought home. It should be guiltlessly forgotten. Although somebody else's life is ending or had ended, mine goes on. Life goes on.

my many admirers

Today I had to go to work as I do every monday morning and it didn't feel like the grizzly January day that it was, but more like Valentine's! There seemed to be admirers everywhere, desireable or not!

First of all, there was this one guy who I usually take care of and he got used to me and expected me to take care of him today too. Well, today I was allocated different patients and when I didn't attend to him (because I couldn't) he started snapping his fingers at me and shouting "Hey! Hey nurse Pica! Are you going to empty out this dirty water from my wash basin?"

I HATE it when people snap their fingers at me. "I'm coming, give me a second!" and when I had a minute, I took away his basin and tidied his area. "Ok, everything alright now?"

"Yes, thank-you," he said, "please, don't think I am trying to command you, I ask you because I like you, I think you're smart and sweet." I smiled, told him not to worry about it, rolled my eyes when I was out of his sight and kept on working at my usual nursing tasks.

Later on, I was at the treatment room door helping my friends put together a sterile trolley for a bone-marrow biopsy when I feel this tapping on my shoulder. I turn and find the little old man from bed 4.
"I have been discharged and I have come to say goodbye before I go."
"Oh, that's very sweet! Goodbye Alfie, you were a great patient."
"Nurse Pica you made my stay very pleasant..."
"Well that's a lovely thing to say to me..."
"...before I would fall asleep I would picture your kind, smiling face and the gentle touch of your hands..."

WHOA NELLY! I NEVER TOUCHED ANYONE!
"...erm...um...Alfie, why don't you go pack your things, your daughter is waiting for you."

Oh brother.

If the patients aren't making me the apple of their eye, their relatives look at me and try to match me up with their sons. Sometimes they murmur it under their breath when I come around to check on their loved ones:
"Psst...she would be nice for Charlie!"
or "Make sure to bring Simon around later and introduce him"
or "go introduce yourself, your not getting any younger and I want grand children!"

Do these people honestly believe I can't hear them? Just because I am paying attention to somebody else does not mean I have gone temporarily deaf.

Then there are those who are direct. Today my colleague and I worked a little miracle on a withering old lady...she was dying but over the weeks we nursed her back to health. When I instructed her relatives about a healthy hydration and nutrtition regime, her son piped up "You know, you're cute...I have a son your age, he'd be great for you!"

"Really?" I told him, "I wonder if my boyfriend will like him!"

Hah. It feels great to be adored.

footnote: if you are an admirer of my blog, you can now suscribe by putting in your email address in the suscription box. Enjoy!

you must all hear this song

For full details click here:http://www.roughtraderecords2.com/bs

Honey lovin you is the greatest thing
I get to be myself and I get to sing
I get to play at being irresponsible
I come home late at night and I love your soul
I never forget you in my prayers
I never have a bad thing to report

You’re my picture on the wall
You’re my vision in the hall
You’re the one I’m talking to
When I get in from my work
You are my girl, and you don’t even know it
I am livin out the life of a poet
I am the jester in the ancient court
You’re the funny little frog in my throat

My eye sight’s fading, my hearing’s dim
I can’t get insured for the state I’m in
I’m a danger to myself I’ve been starting fights
At the party at the club on a Saturday night
But I don’t get disapproving from my girl
She gets the all highlights wrapped in pearls..

You’re my picture on the wall
You’re my vision in the hall
You’re the one I’m talking to
When I get in from my work

You are my girl, and you don’t even know it
I am livin out the life of a poet
I am the jester in the ancient court
You’re the funny little frog in my throat

I had a conversation with you at night
It’s a little one sided but that’s allright
I tell you in the kitchen about my day
You sit on the bed in the dark changing places
With the ghost that was there before you came
You’ve come to save my life again

I don’t dare to touch your hand I don’t dare to think of you
In a physical way
And I don’t know how you smell
You are the cover of my magazine
You’re my fashion tip, a living museum
I’d pay to visit you on rainy Sundays
I’ll maybe tell you all about it someday

What a dream!

Last night i had the most fabulous dream.

I was wearing my favourite vintage polka-dot 1950's style skirt and a tight rust-coloured poloneck and black patent leather shoes. I was walking down republic street and all of a sudden the tune for Sinatra's "New York" blared from speakers and I started to sing in the most amazing voice I could muster.

as the song progressed i started dancing down the road and a crowd formed, amazed, bewildered, astounded at the very power of my voice and my ability to manipulate a crowd. They all started following me, dancing with me, all the way down republic street. And they were all people i know: nurses, tutors, lecturers, family, friends, my bf, my ex-bfs, patients, old people in wheelchairs; the works.

When i reached the ID cards place, i jumped on the wall which overlooks the sea, and sang the finale in such power and confidence that i almost startled myself:

"IT'S ALL UP TO YOU, NEW YORK!......NEWWWWWWWWWW YORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK!"

The applause was thunderous, the wolf whistles broke the sound barrier and roses were all around me.

Then my dad screamed out "Its 9am, lazy! get up!" and I was back to the real world. Which sucked a bit. but oh well.

Spirituality and the Godfather

We had to perform a presentation for spirituality today. We spent a whole day at a youth centre, it was freezing cold and we had to sit through a number of boring presentations from our colleagues until it was my turn. To add insult to injury, the chairs were the wooden folding sort. Just awful. I started feeling the wooden slats on my bum-bones.

Yes, quite my idea of hell.

However due to some originality of thought, our presentation was fabulous and I bet we all got A's...at least I hope so. We decided to start the presentation with an extract from the Godfather. An unusual choice, yes. My friend and I acted it out and it received thunderous applause. One would ask, why the Godfather? well the bit we portrayed was really relevant.

In any case, everyone knows the Godfather can take care of anything.

(I played the part of Cardinal Lamberto)

The courtyard of the abbey. Michael and Cardinal Lamberto are talking.

MICHAEL
I trusted this business arrangement with the archbishop. I trusted him, I was sure his honesty was beyond a doubt. But, as you see, I'm now the victim of a swindle. They're stalling me. Vast moneys have gone to the pezzonovante in high political places, and the Vatican bank is the guarantor.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
If uh, what you say is true, there will be a great scandal.

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Look at this stone. It has been lying in the water for a very long time, but the water has not penetrated it.

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Look. Perfectly dry. The same thing has happened to men in Europe. For centuries they have been surrounded by Christianity, but Christ has not penetrated. Christ doesn't breathe within them.

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
What's happened?
MICHAEL
Is it possible, that you could get me something sweet? Orange juice, anything, candy.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO (to a priest, in Italian)
"Please get some orange juice and candy..."
MICHAEL
Trouble with diabetes. Blood sugar levels must be low.

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
I understand.

MICHAEL
When I'm under stress sometimes this happens.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
I understand.
MICHAEL
I come to you, on such a delicate matter -- accusations against your Archbishop -- was difficult for me.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
The mind suffers and the body, cries out.
MICHAEL
That's true.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Would you like, to make your confession?
MICHAEL (laughs)
Your Eminence, I’m uh – I’m uh -- it's been so long, I wouldn't – wouldn’t – wouldn’t know where to uh, it's been thirty years, I'd – I’d – I’d use up too much of your time, I think.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
I always have time to save souls.
MICHAEL
Well, I'm -- I'm beyond redemption.

CARDINAL LAMBERTO (to the priest looking after Don Tommasino, in Italian)
"Give us a couple of minutes alone please – thanks…"

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
I hear the confessions of my young priests here. Sometimes the desire to confess is overwhelming. And we must seize the moment.
MICHAEL
What is the point of confessing, if I don't repent?
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
I hear you are a practical man. What have you got to lose? Huh?
(then, after a long pause)
Go on.
MICHAEL
I uh, I betrayed my wife.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Go on, my son.
MICHAEL
I betrayed myself.
(then)
I killed men.
(then)
And I ordered men to be killed.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Go on, my son, go on.
MICHAEL
Nah, it's useless.
CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Go on, my son.
MICHAEL
I killed -- I ordered the death of my brother. He injured me. I killed my mother’s son. I killed my father's son. (he breaks down in tears)

CARDINAL LAMBERTO
Your sins are terrible, and it is just that you suffer. Your life, could be redeemed, but I know that you don't believe that. You will not change.

first day back at work in 2006

well, my ward hasn't changed one iota except that the new graduates have started working and i like seeing their new, fresh faces and most of all, knowing what it is going to be like when i graduate. that feeling of going home after work and sleeping guilt free because u have nothing to study, write or catch up on.

i simply can't wait for it to be me! i hope my day comes!

Good-bye another weekend

Right now my life is in this really static phase and its going to be this way for a while. I feel bored and like I have nothing to look forward to.

Today I feel like my usual bouncy optimism has been drained out of me. Tomorrow I go back to my ward and I will have to check all my week-end's emotional baggage at the door and put on a brave and happy face amidst all the sickness and suffering.

When I was a teen I used to say that i hate my life and all that angsty crap which usually makes me nauseous. But really and truly, at this moment 21.55h at 21 years old, i honestly feel like my life kind of sucks.

new years resolution

In the year 2006 I resolve to: Take a shower. Get your resolution here

cat fight!

so nero jumps on my bed and sits on my favourite scarf, sinks his teeth in and starts sucking like there's no tomorrow. Elsa was sitting on the floor, looking up expectantly. since i dislike nero, i snatch my scarf from his mouth and push him off the bed, making room for elsa. as soon as elsa sits comfortably and i turn my back, i suddenly hear:

THUD

"MEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRR!"
"HISSS! HISS! HISS!"
"GROWWWWWWWWWWWLLL!"

to which i reply:

"You stupid cats, stop fighting on my fucking bed before you maim me and each other!"

Both cats give a stupid look at me and then at each other. Nero saunters off the bed and Elsa falls asleep.

Order is restored.

last weekend of fun

well, i managed to fix all my thesis stuff! hurrah! everything worked out fine! my quest to become a nurse is on the ball once again. woo hoo!

today is the official last day of holidays, and in all honesty i am not sorry...in a way i wish i didnt have holidays because i kind of lost the routine i had started and i need to focus on hospital stuff all over again. i don't think it will be too difficult, i start work at 7am monday morning as usual and i'm looking forward to getting back to the grind.

i managed to lose weight due to gym, lost a dress size so now im just about a size 12 which makes me v happy, but as usual it is not good enough for my mum who just told me that my clothes look way too tight for me and that im living a lie...and then she asked me if im pregnant!

well, whatever. i am most certainly looking forward to a lovely evening with my man, sort of the last time to enjoy myself a little before the hardcore studying starts. however, i think i will go out twice a week...but i need to stay focussed, its the key to success.

i found out that we are probably going to be provisionally employed in august...so one day i am a student and the next i am an actual nurse, which is scary and fabulous all at the same time...in may finals, in april we give in our thesis...its all coming together really...in july the final practical...

Paranoid interlude: its always been my ultimate dream to graduate, to stand up there with my degree, nothing in the world could possibly make me happier. however, i have noticed that whenever i want something so badly, i never get it due to some fuck up, which would not be my fault. i want to graduate...

Voice of reason: STOP BEING PARANOID! YOU WILL GRADUATE! NOW SHUT-UP AND GO DO SOMETHING ENJOYABLE!

so true...i'm off to read. ta ta!

very worried indeed

oh dear, oh dear. my thesis is on conditional acceptance...this frightens me. Apparentally its because I am not allowed to contact the subjects of my interviews myself but the stoma nurse has to. so i have to fix my proposal and hunt down the stoma nurse to see if she will do me this favour. I know she most definitely will, but im still worried. I bet im the only person in the course to have a ridiculous problem like this!

even though i know this won't happen, but if she doesn't accept to contact my subjects, my thesis is ruined and i would have done hours of wrk for nothing!

oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

holidays are over

well, what a way to start the new year! on the 2nd of january, my tutor calls me up at 8am and said:

"Good morning Pica and happy new year. Holidays are over, I hope you have some work to show me, I am on duty on tuesday and wednesday, on both days you must come and present work to me, on tuesday it must be a revised version of your tool on wednesday it must be your methodology ok? Nice talking to you, see you tuesday!"

and with that, i hung up the phone, showered, dressed, drank a monsterous amount of coffee and set to work. i thank god for this tutor, i'd like to be her protogee!

and there go my holidays, flushed down the toilet!