I have been here working in the US for more than three months now. Three months away from family and friends, familiar faces and places, grinding daily on my own. Yes, I have adjusted to the work and the workplace. And no, I still am not driving which sucks bigtime. However, let me share some of the lighter stuff with you. I work with amazing people and though there are some patients who can be pains in the butt from time to time, most of them are funny, sometimes intentional, sometimes not, but I laugh my heart out nonetheless. These small and big laughs I share with them is like a ray of sunshine amidst the gray clouds of loneliness and helps keep me going day after day after day.
To keep patient confidentiality I will not reveal their real names but I will name them with their initials. But for one patient in particular, I shall call her Grandma as she is the star amongst these funny retorts. Grandma is hard of hearing which makes it even funnier. Here we go:
*********************************************************************************
Julie (Speech Therapist): You are very likeable.
Grandma: I'm like a Baptist?
J: No, you are very likeable.
Grandma: I'm like a boy?
J: ........... (facepalm)
*********************************************************************************
Julie: I live in Midlothian
Grandma: You live in the middle of the ocean?
*********************************************************************************
Julie: What did you have for lunch today, broccoli or green beans?
AT: Well I had broccoli. But everyone else calls it green beans.
*********************************************************************************
After lunch I went to see a patient in the dining hall to see if she was done eating. I came down there as she was eating her dessert.
Me: Ms MS. How do you like your apple pie?
MS: Oh, it is wonderful dear! Now get me out of here before I vomit!
Me: (burst out laughing)
********************************************************************************
MS: Ooooh those buttercups are pretty but mind you they could be poisonous. One day I saw my pets eating them and oooooh those cats were as sick as a dog!
Irony, anybody? :-)
********************************************************************************
Grandma watching people going out the rehab door..
Grandma: Everybody in my neighborhood has a big behind. (Looks at me with curious eyes) Now tell me why is that?
Me: (laughs) I dunno Grandma, ask them.
*******************************************************************************
Julie: Oh, I feel dumb today.
AT: I can tell by the way you look. (hahaha!)
*******************************************************************************
Amy (my boss, rehab manager): Grandma, you look lovely today! Who cut your hair?
Grandma: My grand daughter (she mistakes her daughter for her grand daughter often)
Amy: How can I get a haircut like yours?
Grandma: I don't know. You have to bring your head over there.
*******************************************************************************
Ambulation training.
Me: Okay, Grandma, remember! Walker, bad leg, good leg. Ready?
Grandma: Okay. (Stands up but farts loudly along the way)
Me: Oh, c'mon Grandma, you farted!
Grandma: There is no such word. Try poop.
Me: Bwahahaha Grandma that's even worse. Sit down. (laughs uncontrollably)
*******************************************************************************
In the dining hall
Me: Grandma, where do you sit here?
Grandma: On my ass.
Me: ......
*******************************************************************************
Yes, our work as physical therapists is physically, mentally and emotionally demanding. We earn our living by balancing being nice and stern. But not everything that matters is work and earning money. If you love your job, such as I do, and spiced up with this quirky retorts from people I serve, it seldom even seems like real work at all. Till next time! See ya!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Impulse
Tuesday it was when my internal conflict began. It was warm outside 75 to 80-ish weather with the spring sun up high in the almost cloudless sky. I hate the sun on my face. I don't hate the sun itself, mind you, and I can deal with the heat. But I hate the sun on my face. It burns my face up like a dried leaf and fertilizes my face for new acne growth. Acne which I should have gotten over with after puberty, but no. It lingers on forever, a flaw I assume God Himself assured to make me human. Without my imperfect skin, damn, I would be the perfect Homo Sapien specimen on the planet. Oh yeah!
Well, anyway, at midday during lunchtime, I suddenly had a craving for ice cream. Ice cream is one of the few sweets I love and I am craving for it now. I wanted a Rocky Road or a Cookies and Cream right then and there. That is when my internal strife began. Part of me wanted to go to Walmart after work and grab myself an ice cream to satisfy my craving. But then again, it was too hot outside and the sun will be on my face. I hate the sun on my face. And still I crave for ice cream and the only way to get rid of the craving to buy one from Walmart. But it was too hot outside and the sun will be on my face. I hate the sun on my face. And so goes my internal conflict about whether to get that ice cream or not.
It went on through the afternoon. Me debating with myself over the ice cream. Not eating ice cream will not kill me and between want and hate, hate is a stronger emotion. And I hate the sun on my face. So I decided, I will walk straight home after work. No more trip to Walmart for a half-quart of ice cream which I probably will just leave inside the freezer for a long time before discovering I didn't really want ice cream after all. So that was that, no ice cream, I am shading my face from the sun with my trusty stolen white folder going straight home.
After my last patient, I logged my minutes out, locked the therapy room and headed out the door. I had a cap on, my backpack, my Ipod playing James Blunt's I'll Be Your Man and my folder on one hand. As I walked along the roadside, I realized how I no longer am the YesMan I used to be. And that is a shame. When I was younger, I prided myself on the fact that I am one driven by my impulses and I follow them with much gusto I didn't really care what everyone else wanted. I wasn't swayed by the crowd. At times I even sway the crowd. If I had the impulse to eat something from somewhere, by hook or by crook I will get that by the end of the day, no matter what it takes, by God, I will get that! That was who I was.
I like to think that that is still who I am. But, no, as I grew older impulses give way to rational thought. There is nothing wrong with rational thought, of course. In fact, it is a sign of wisdom. But hell, it makes things predictable and boring. Would I really give up my childish impulses which reminds me of my youth, to the convenience of rationalizing everything so I have an excuse to say no? I don't think so.
So today my friends, I am young again. I decided the ice cream was worth fighting for. I still hate the sun but giving in to that one silly impulse, for a moment, gave my heart a sense of victory, something so remotely distant for people who are starting to forget how it is to be young. For a moment there, I was young. I was free.
Well, anyway, at midday during lunchtime, I suddenly had a craving for ice cream. Ice cream is one of the few sweets I love and I am craving for it now. I wanted a Rocky Road or a Cookies and Cream right then and there. That is when my internal strife began. Part of me wanted to go to Walmart after work and grab myself an ice cream to satisfy my craving. But then again, it was too hot outside and the sun will be on my face. I hate the sun on my face. And still I crave for ice cream and the only way to get rid of the craving to buy one from Walmart. But it was too hot outside and the sun will be on my face. I hate the sun on my face. And so goes my internal conflict about whether to get that ice cream or not.
It went on through the afternoon. Me debating with myself over the ice cream. Not eating ice cream will not kill me and between want and hate, hate is a stronger emotion. And I hate the sun on my face. So I decided, I will walk straight home after work. No more trip to Walmart for a half-quart of ice cream which I probably will just leave inside the freezer for a long time before discovering I didn't really want ice cream after all. So that was that, no ice cream, I am shading my face from the sun with my trusty stolen white folder going straight home.
After my last patient, I logged my minutes out, locked the therapy room and headed out the door. I had a cap on, my backpack, my Ipod playing James Blunt's I'll Be Your Man and my folder on one hand. As I walked along the roadside, I realized how I no longer am the YesMan I used to be. And that is a shame. When I was younger, I prided myself on the fact that I am one driven by my impulses and I follow them with much gusto I didn't really care what everyone else wanted. I wasn't swayed by the crowd. At times I even sway the crowd. If I had the impulse to eat something from somewhere, by hook or by crook I will get that by the end of the day, no matter what it takes, by God, I will get that! That was who I was.
I like to think that that is still who I am. But, no, as I grew older impulses give way to rational thought. There is nothing wrong with rational thought, of course. In fact, it is a sign of wisdom. But hell, it makes things predictable and boring. Would I really give up my childish impulses which reminds me of my youth, to the convenience of rationalizing everything so I have an excuse to say no? I don't think so.
So today my friends, I am young again. I decided the ice cream was worth fighting for. I still hate the sun but giving in to that one silly impulse, for a moment, gave my heart a sense of victory, something so remotely distant for people who are starting to forget how it is to be young. For a moment there, I was young. I was free.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)