My daughter has a tattoo and I am devestated. I haven't seen it yet, she knows how I feel about tattoos and has been trying to mentally prepare me fro her getting one for some time. How does one mentally prepare for their gorgeous 18 year old daughter to permanently mark the beautiful body she has?
I know tattoos are common amongst "young" people, I see it everyday in the emergency department, young guys and girls with multiple tattoos. I also see many mature people with tattoos they got when they were young (you may recall the Circulon TV advertisement) and it is not attractive.
At Logan when I was a student I was introduced to the TTT - Tattoo to Tooth ratio. The more tattoos, the less teeth and the number of tattoos was inversely proportional to the persons IQ. Meaning....there is nothing smart about getting a tattoo.
Now anyone who has one will argue with me I'm sure, and I know we shouldn't judge who a person is by what a person looks like, what their job is, their educational level or what they wear, but the truth is we do.
Apart from the inherent health risks (hepatitis, HIV, staph infections, cellulitis) tattoos are just ugly, I have never seen a nice one yet. I can certainly appreciate that there are some incredibly talented tattoo artists out their and some of the designs are amazing but the minute I see it on someones skin it looses it's artistic appeal.
I tried everything to talk my daughter out of this, and nothing has worked, she keeps trying to make me understand and it's like she somehow wants my approval, which she will never get.
She is stubborn, pig headed, independent and willful, she is also intelligent, kind compassionate, loyal and sensitive....she is just like me. I learnt a lot of things the hard way, my parents tried to make things easier by guiding me with advice, and trying to help me avoid making the same mistakes they did, of course Id didn't listen and did things my way and so will Estee.
It is so very difficult to sit by and watch your offspring find their own way in the world.
Sunday, 19 February 2012
Monday, 13 February 2012
A Host of Sparrows
The correct name for a group or gathering of sparrows is a host....and they are presently residing in my brain. Noisy little buggers, keeping me up, distracting me, ruining my concentration and there are A LOT of them.
Each and every one represents a thought, a problem, an issue, a concern, an errand that needs doing, a hope or a wish that is currently on my mind or needs addressing.
The business of work and the flight of the sparrows has stopped me from writing, perhaps though writing is what I need to do? After all that was the intention of this blog in the first place, to write about my life as an intern and have a place to vent without driving my awesome boyfriend nuts.
Speaking of my awesome boyfriend... he's been putting up with quite a bit lately. I come home nearly every day and want to run all the cases I had past him to get his opinion. Did I do the right thing? What would he have done / said if he was me or my consultant? Sometimes I forget that he has worked a whole shift in the ED at Logan with a whole bunch of brand new doctors doing the same thing to him all day and that maybe, just maybe when he comes home he doesn't want to be at work!
He loves to teach though and he is so patient with me. If it wasn't for the fact that he is the least romantic man on the planet (yes he has a fault) then I would call him a saint.
I was so excited about something I did at work yesterday though, I couldn't wait until I got home to tell him. Of course as we have been working opposite shifts he would have been asleep and I would not have been able to share anyway, so I had to text him as soon as it happended.
A little over a year ago, when I was still a medical student, I was busy flirting, perving and not actually listening to my then teacher and not yet boyfriend, who was demonstrating to a group of students how to reduce an anterior shoulder dislocation. There are various techniques for this procedure, some of which I had seen before but the one he was showing us seemed odd and I had never seen or heard of it, but I logged it my memory bank as a back up. Thank goodness!
Yesterday, I had a lovely middle aged woman come in after tripping over her dog with a shoulder dislocation. Various people tried a number of other techniques to reduce it without success and I decided to try the Rizzo technique...It worked! What a wonderful feeling that satisfying clunk of a humeral head slipping back into the place it belongs is!
It was the first shoulder reduction I had done on my own. I had asked my registrar a couple of times for his assistance but he was busy with an angle grinder injury and kept ignoring me. I found out later this is his way of teaching...ignore me long enough and I'll become frustrated and pissed of with waiting for him and end up having a go myself.
So thank you to both of the docs in this story, one for equipping me with the knowledge and the other for encouraging me to use it.
Ok...sparrow home to roost for the night, so many others still flying around.
Each and every one represents a thought, a problem, an issue, a concern, an errand that needs doing, a hope or a wish that is currently on my mind or needs addressing.
The business of work and the flight of the sparrows has stopped me from writing, perhaps though writing is what I need to do? After all that was the intention of this blog in the first place, to write about my life as an intern and have a place to vent without driving my awesome boyfriend nuts.
Speaking of my awesome boyfriend... he's been putting up with quite a bit lately. I come home nearly every day and want to run all the cases I had past him to get his opinion. Did I do the right thing? What would he have done / said if he was me or my consultant? Sometimes I forget that he has worked a whole shift in the ED at Logan with a whole bunch of brand new doctors doing the same thing to him all day and that maybe, just maybe when he comes home he doesn't want to be at work!
He loves to teach though and he is so patient with me. If it wasn't for the fact that he is the least romantic man on the planet (yes he has a fault) then I would call him a saint.
I was so excited about something I did at work yesterday though, I couldn't wait until I got home to tell him. Of course as we have been working opposite shifts he would have been asleep and I would not have been able to share anyway, so I had to text him as soon as it happended.
A little over a year ago, when I was still a medical student, I was busy flirting, perving and not actually listening to my then teacher and not yet boyfriend, who was demonstrating to a group of students how to reduce an anterior shoulder dislocation. There are various techniques for this procedure, some of which I had seen before but the one he was showing us seemed odd and I had never seen or heard of it, but I logged it my memory bank as a back up. Thank goodness!
Yesterday, I had a lovely middle aged woman come in after tripping over her dog with a shoulder dislocation. Various people tried a number of other techniques to reduce it without success and I decided to try the Rizzo technique...It worked! What a wonderful feeling that satisfying clunk of a humeral head slipping back into the place it belongs is!
It was the first shoulder reduction I had done on my own. I had asked my registrar a couple of times for his assistance but he was busy with an angle grinder injury and kept ignoring me. I found out later this is his way of teaching...ignore me long enough and I'll become frustrated and pissed of with waiting for him and end up having a go myself.
So thank you to both of the docs in this story, one for equipping me with the knowledge and the other for encouraging me to use it.
Ok...sparrow home to roost for the night, so many others still flying around.
Saturday, 11 February 2012
Finding Time
I have been busy.
Night duty...which I means I don't sleep at night......or during the day! For some reason I am one of those people that like to sleep at night and even if I have been awake, riduculously busy and not made it into bed until 9am, I still can't sleep during the day.
This makes me tired, grumpy and emotionally labile. I can do nothing else when I am on night duty but work and try to sleep. It's not pretty, don't even talk to me or I will cry.
I have also found it takes me days to get over it, and then of course I am back at work on late shifts that don't finish until midnight.
Yes I am complaining. At present I feel like I have no life outside of work and if even I did, I would be too tired to participate in it, let alone enjoy it.
This is a very long winded way of explaining why I have not written, not because I have nothing to say but I have so much to say I want to sit down and do it properly when I have time to think.
Maybe tomorrow.
Night duty...which I means I don't sleep at night......or during the day! For some reason I am one of those people that like to sleep at night and even if I have been awake, riduculously busy and not made it into bed until 9am, I still can't sleep during the day.
This makes me tired, grumpy and emotionally labile. I can do nothing else when I am on night duty but work and try to sleep. It's not pretty, don't even talk to me or I will cry.
I have also found it takes me days to get over it, and then of course I am back at work on late shifts that don't finish until midnight.
Yes I am complaining. At present I feel like I have no life outside of work and if even I did, I would be too tired to participate in it, let alone enjoy it.
This is a very long winded way of explaining why I have not written, not because I have nothing to say but I have so much to say I want to sit down and do it properly when I have time to think.
Maybe tomorrow.
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