Halloween and CPR

Last night the kids and I had a fun time talking about Halloween costumes.

A: Tag, what do you want to be for Halloween?
T: What you already said, big turtleneck shirt with an A on it and a red hat, so I can be a chipmunk.
A: Woot!! That's my boy. [looking around the room for further inspiration, noticing our case of computer paper] Wait, what if we got foamy poster board and made you into a paper airplane?
T: Mmmmm, nope.
A: What about Dad's idea to make you a gumball machine?
T: What?!? Nope.
A: What if we took poster board (here am I, on a poster board kick) and painted it so you look like a wrapped stick of gum? Or square poster board so you look like a chiclet?
T: A what?
A: A chiclet... um, little square gum.
P: [getting into the spirit of things] I could be a butterfly princess! With a crown, and wings, and be all pink.
A: That's true. We could also give you brown pants, green shirt, and put leaves and flowers all over you and call you a tree.
P: Or I could be a pink girl, with pink shirt, and dress, and necklace, and bracelet, and hair tie....
A: Yep, or you could have your flower pants on with an old t shirt, wear your crocs, and you could carry our little shovel and little rake, and a watering can and a weird hat. You'd be a gardener!
P: Yeah! Or I could be a mermaid princess with a tail and long hair!
T: I could be a bouncy ball!
A: [thinking: that'd be called type-casting]
A: [to Man] Black robe and scar? He already has the glasses...
M: No, no, do you know how many kids are going to be Harry Potter this year?
P: If I change my mind, can I change my costume on Halloween?
A: Nope, sorry. You can't change your mind after I start putting these together.
P: Or maybe I could be a bird princess with red and pink feathers and a pink necklace and a crown. Or make yarn hair that goes to my feet with a crown!

Thus we conclude that Tag wants to be Alvin the chipmunk and Princess wants to be anything fantastic and beautiful, as long as it's pink with a crown.

CPR on Saturday was a lot of fun. It was four hours of video and practice on dummies. The crowd had a good sense of humor in general and there was another pregnant lady there so when we had to find the right place on a person for giving abdominal thrusts, we found it on each other since letting a strange person touch our bellies like that was just too weird. For some reason it was alright if we were in the same condition.

The first hands on practice we had with real people was (not only the abdominal trust thing, but also) rolling a person toward us while supporting the neck and back in a straight line. Getting on the floor and doing that with people I didn't know put a whole different spin on this sort of thing for me. I had been dreaming of being a nurse practitioner in an office, me with a chart and pen in my hands while the patient sits on the exam table. But taking this class in the context of preparing to study for nursing really crashed into my head how very intimate of a job that can be. Touching people and thier bodies on a daily necessity is an idea that's totally new to me. I grew up with a lot of personal space and even now I hug one good friend about every other week though I'm very huggy with my kids and husband.

It was a shocking change in perspective for me. It'll be interesting to watch how that intimacy can stay perfectly professional. Even though I've had plenty of medical care with varying degrees of invasion, I've never had to place myself completely in the situation I'm experiencing as a patient. On the other end of things I'm suddenly thinking about all of the doctors who have delivered my babies, or the one who did that little procedure on my abdomen in the ER, and they all have to be completely mentally there in order to perform well in what they're doing. They don't count ceiling tiles or sing children's songs or think of their “happy place” when a scalpel or a newborn is in their hands. The abdominal surgery guy was incredibly nice and I recall the genuine kindness in his voice when he said that I seemed like I was someone who would make a good mother. How does one have such kindness, love of such a job, joy in hard work paying off in each person who is healed, and not get emotionally invested? It sounds fatiguing to be the person people rely on when they are at their worst, the person people blame if things go very wrong, the person who holds life and quality of life in those latex-armored hands.

Suddenly doctor jokes seem hilariously funny to me, and then again, not quite so funny at all.
I spoke with a friend yesterday who is a physical therapist. She recommended that I get some volunteer hours at hospitals throughout my education or even before I start classes to help me transition, and it looks really good on a resume. Just one four hour shift a week can help quite a lot.

I'm still sort of shocked at how real this is all becoming.

And, K, even though I'm sure lawyering has it's emotionally investing aspects, I suddenly understand why you chose law rather than medicine. :)