letrero 2

First of all, by I'll post the next one tomorrow I obviously meant, in about a week... so, here it is...
Esta es otra foto encontrada en el vestidor de mujeres para entrar a quirófano. Algunas de las cosas relevantes de el letrero son:

• EVITE en negritas. Son tan considerados. Es de que, por favor, trata que no, pero obvio que si ya de plano no te aguantas puedes hacerlo y se te disculpara la ofensa.
• Si se puede! We know it's hard, I still find it hard not to spit my way into the OR. But you know what? Taking it one day at the time, we can do it. And not just that, we WILL do it, together.
  
• colillas? mmm... que no TODO el hospital es area de no fumar? Habra alguien que guarde sus colillas para ir a tirarlas al vestidor?
  
• Se ve completamente ochenteroo!! I love it.

Creo que es un letrero aceptable en mmm... no se, una cantina o un vestidor de beisbolistas, or some other place where people actually SPIT and throw cigarbutts to the floor.

Anyways, ese letrero me hace feliz. :) haha I would steal it and take it home, but I'm worried that if I do, the dressing room will be taken as a spit-pot and ash tray. So I won't.

Letrero 1

Esta es la primera de varias fotos de letreros que estaban en distintos lugares del hospital al que estuve yendo. Tristemente alguien ya quito el letrero, but luckily I took this picture first.

Cabe recalcar que este letrero se encontraba DENTRO del vestidor de MUJERES para entrar a quirófano, no en un baño de gasolinera o algo por el estilo. (Sin ofender a los baños de gasolinera, debo aceptar que como road-tripper que soy he visto baños de todos tipos en las gasolineras)

Por favor hagan zoom a la foto y lean lo que esta escrito con lápiz debajo de NO HAGAS. Es la mejor parte (heh)

Mañana subo la siguiente foto. They get better and better.

xox

Done

I'm just arriving from my very LAST night on call in that public hospital that has given me some of the worst experiences of my life. These past 6 weeks have been, to say the least, traumatic. I wish to never go back there, I feel a little bit of my soul died there.

I guess its not that bad, at least for most people. But for me it was horrible. You see, the main reason I don't like very sick people is not because they are gross (because I'm sorry to tell you, but they are) but because they are sad. And despite my tough appearance, I'm really a wuss, a disturbingly emotional wuss.

I've seen some very disturbing wounds there, the type most of you will (luckily) never have to see. I just cannot stand to clean those wounds. They are kinda gross, but thats not what disturbs me. What really gets me is knowing that most of these people are beyond help, that they are suffering so much and that there's very little that I can do for them. I try, I really do try to make my job as best I could, but its just not enough. I felt so bad when I heard one of my patients have died, or had to undergo another surgery or amputations. I don't know how to express this. I guess you cannot relate to this unless you've been there, and probably not even so. Its got a lot to do with me and my personality, I guess. Two times I cried because I just could not stand to hurt this people anymore, despite knowing it was for their own good.

Shit, I wish had the words to express this, but I don't.

Oh goodness, I don't want to think about this anymore. I just want to forget what I've seen, enjoy my next 2 weeks of private hospital rotations and get ready to come back for the last month.

Yes, I will come back. I won't be doing any on-call, just (ha!) clinical activities from 8am to 4pm. I have to admit it that when I found out that my original schedule had changed and I had to go back there I cried a little. It sucks. You wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain, so I won't.

I need a hug, a long, strong hug.

The most thoughtful gift

Today one of my friends gave me this as a Valentine's day treat.I love it. It's like the perfect gift for me. This is definitely the best way to wash one's hands. It's foamy but it does not leave that sticky sensation afterwards, its antibacterial, and most importantly it smells like heaven should smell. Oh, pomegranate artificial scent, where have you been all my life?

Every time my hand is close to my face a light breeze of deliciousness goes right though my nose and makes me smile. Today is a good day, not only my hands are clean, they are scented too. What more can you ask for? :)

Oh, and... Happy Valentine's Day y'all!

McDonalds

About a year ago my mother, my 2 younger sisters and I went shopping to San Antonio TX. And let me tell you that shopping with my family (well, with the female side of the family) is a hard 24-hour-long job. It shopping starts the second the stores opens and goes non-stop until they close when it moves to the closest 24hr Walmart. Oh yes, they are tough days. Anyways, on that particular time I was with my mom and sisters our midnight meal was provided by McDonalds drive-thru. It went something like this:

MCDONALDS DUDE
Good Night, Welcome to McDonads. What can I get for you?

ME
I'll have 2 big mac meals, one with fanta, the other with coke

MOTHER
DIET coke

ME
Al right, diet coke. Also the 8 piece McNuggets, with a small Sprite

MCDONALDS DUDE
Would that be all?

ME
(I haven't ordered anything for me)
No, I will also have a mmm... let me think... oh yes, I'll have a Big n'Nasty with coke

MCDONALDS DUDE silence...

ME
(realizing what I've just said)
Sorry, sorry, I mean Big n'TASTY, TAS-TY

MCDONALDS DUDE
I'm sorry, did you just say big n' NASTY?
...

ME
(akward silence)
...

MCDONALDS DUDE
Could you hold on a sec....

The McDonalds dude was off the speaker for a good 5 minutes which I'm sure was how long it took him to pass on the word to everyone in the kitchen and to his speed-dial contacts. My english-speaking sisters obviously understood and burst into laughing while my ever-so-hungry mother looked rather confused.

Needless to say it was very VERY embarassing to go and pick up the food. But my mom wouldn't let me just get the hell out of there without at least her hamburger.

After that I guess I'll stick to the Big Mac ... at least I can pronounce it.

OCD

The other day I took a survey on hand washing (yes, this is not a joke, hospitals have this kind of surveys) and I realized just what a freak I am. Well, I guess I always knew, it was just a refreshment.

This got me thinking about my hand-washing-habits, and oh-god even I shocked myself with what I found out:

• I easily wash my hands 20-25 times a day (at least)
• I have antibacterial solution on my backpack, my coat pocket, my car, my room and my purse. (sometimes more than 1)
  
• Every time I pass through one of the antibacterial solution dispenser in my hospital I wash my hands.
• I always wash my hands after seeing a patient (I don't have to touch them, just seeing them makes me want to wash)
• I hate it when sick and sneezing people shake my hand. I have a very strong impulse to "disinfect" afterwards, and I try not to touch anything with the "dirty" hand until I've cleaned it.
  
• I prefer antibacterial solutions or gel, but if none at hand I use soap and water
• I love the odor of isopropyl alcohol.
• I hate shaking kids hands. They are sticky and unclean to me.
• Whenever I read "hand washing instructions" I go over them in case something has changed in the "technique" or added new steps (oh yes, there is a right way to wash your hands, you dirty dirty people)
  
• I do this not because I really thing I can serve as vector for infections with my patients, but rather because I think I might get something from them (like that fever)
  

And so forth.
I like to pretend it's all for health reason, but deep inside me I know I do it because if I stop, the universe will colapse and we will all die. Wouldn't it?