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Actinguy
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Name: The Ted
Country: South Korea
Metro: Seoul
Birthday: 8/11/1983
Gender: Male
Interests: Humanism, debate, politics, history, writing, acting, video games, candlelit beaches, romantic walks on my dinner, and Scattergories
Expertise: Grand Master of all things hammock
Occupation: TV News Director & Radio DJ
Industry: Military Propoganda
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
7/25/2004
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| Completely failing in my attempt to show you Sara's outer beauty (my fault, not hers), I'll instead show you the inside.
My favorite of her writings takes place at her grandfather's funeral...and therefore might be too personal for me to hijack...so I'll instead show you my second-favorite. She wrote this shortly before graduating from nursing school.
EDIT: DAMMIT! I completely failed to show you the inner beauty too.
Highlight the (invisible) text below to read it. Stupid Xanga...
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Disclaimer: The following story is based on an actual event, however names (except mine) and other identifying details have been changed so I won't get the HIPAA sued outta me. So when it comes down to it, it really is almost entirely false. Joe Jacksen is not doing well. According to morning report in the conference room just outside the ICU, he came in yesterday a week post-op with an infection and other complications. As a 59-year-old inmate from prison with Hepatitis, diabetes, and heart problems he was not very responsive and expectedly unstable.
"The student can take him." a nurse announced, wiggling a clipboard in my direction. "She could use the experience." Alright, Joe, let's see what I can do for you, I thought as I strolled out of the conference room and walked to Bed 8 in the corner of the ICU. I pulled back the curtain to find a frail, thin man, who looked about 80 years old, with a wide-eyed, bewildered expression stuck on his face. Near the foot of the bed, 2 prison guards were drinking coffee and watching TV. They stood up and studied me suspiciously as I stood there still clutching the edge of the curtain. Yikes, I didn't realize I'd be watched. We stared each other down for about a second, until I realized my deer-caught-in-headlights expression wasn't helping me at all, so I quickly smiled.
"Good morning." I greeted, smoothing down my white smock. "I'm Sara, the student nurse who'll be working with Mr. Jacksen today." They nodded but didn't say anything. I walked over to the bedside and checked his wrist band to make sure he was really the 59 year old patient I was assigned to. "Mr. Jacksen, I'm Sara." My voice automatically became a little louder and lower, as it does when I talk to people who appear old and hard of hearing. He still held his surprised expression, as though I'd just slapped him, and said nothing. His head turned toward my voice. I slipped my hand into his crooked, arthritic looking hand. "Squeeze my hand, Mr. Jacksen." Nothing. I looked up at the monitors. His heart and lungs were being stretched to their limits, it was a matter of time before they started failing.
"Are you here to give him medication?" one guard asked me as I shined a penlight across Joe's pupils. "No, I'm here to do a full assessment on him." I answered. "All ICU patients get reassessed every shift." I added, in case they thought I was being sneaky. As I continued to assess Joe, I still couldn't tell if the guards thought of me as a threat or if they were just annoyed that I was there, preventing them from sitting down and watching TV. Honestly, I would've preferred that they watch the TV instead of me. I'm confident in my assessments but having them observe me made me feel like I was doing my taxes in the presence of the IRS. Calm down, I thought. Their just doing their job, like I am. They've probably seen a lot of crazy things happen in their line of work, and they have to watch me because they don't know who I am. At the same time I had to wonder why 2 buff guards had to be sent to watch over a skinny dying inmate. Joe couldn't squeeze my hand, feed himself, he could barely breathe without supplemental oxygen. Did they expect him to jump out of bed and make a run for it? It's not like he was faking his condition, the monitors don't lie.
I pulled back the blankets to inspect the circulation in his legs and feet. I unsnagged one sock from the shackles around his ankles and pulled it off. The guards both stepped uncomfortably close to me. "I'm checking the pulses in his feet now." I explained, before they had a chance to ask. One of them looked like he was going to say something, but stopped himself. I pressed two fingertips to the top of his foot and looked up at his face. Your guards don't trust me, Joe I said to him mentally. What if they did trust me? What if they trusted me when they shouldn't be? I imagined the guards shaking their head and turning back to the television. As they're distracted, my imaginary self looks around carefully before sneaking a pair of EKG calipers out of my pocket. I expertly jimmy the lock on the shackles and before anyone knows what's going on, I heave the dying man up and throw him over my shoulder then turn and start to sprint toward the door. Joe and I don't want to spend today in the hospital! The guards quickly jump to their feet as a siren starts whooping from the loud speaker and red lights start flashing from every corner of the unit. Just as the guards catch up and each grab a hold of my arms, all the wires and tubes attached to Joe reach the end of their tether and all 4 of us snap backwards and crash onto the bed in one heap like a cartoon. "Joe needs to be free!" I shout, swinging my brown ponytail around and kicking my feet as the guards slap handcuffs on me and give each other that knowing look, we should have never trusted the student.
I catch the pulse on my fingertips, and smile in spite of myself. I manage to keep from giggling in the somber presence of this dying man, but with each guard intimately close of either side I still feel extremely awkward. "Well, that's all." I say slipping the sock back onto his foot. "I'll be back later to check your blood sugar Joe. I mean, Mr. Jacksen." I start to walk away, when one guard stops me. "What do you think? Will he be transferred to step down soon?" I can't help the little smile that comes out as the image of us all flying back onto the bed pops back into my mind. I shake my head. "He's not going anywhere today." I get back to the nurse's station and as I'm washing my hands I glance up once more and imagine myself in a gown with a sour look on my face, shackled to the bed next to Joe with my own set of guards.
I laugh at myself.
Not going anywhere today.
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| It's not Xanga that's being a bum this time...it's firefox. But my Internet Explorer doesn't work...so still can't post any pictures.
Stupid firefox...
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| Protected post here, for those that like the most ridiculous story ever. 
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| My girlfriend Allison is taking a sign-language class.
She's actually doing quite well...aside from one significant problem.
They learned the word for "military", so Allison signed that she has a boyfriend in the military.
"A boyfriend?" signed the teacher.
"A boyfriend," signed Allison.
"A BOYfriend?" signed the teacher.
"A boyfriend," signed Allison.
"A Boyfriend?" signed the teacher.
"YES. A BOYfriend." signed Allison.
And thus, the matter was dropped.
Later that same day, there was a class exercise where one student looked at a photograph, and signed what was in the picture to another student, who could not see the photo.
Allison looked at the picture, then signed "There is a young boy in swimming trunks, who is topless."
Her partner laughed, then signed, "Really?"
"Really," signed Allison.
Her partner looked at her strangely, then signed "What did you say you saw?"
So she repeated herself. There is a young boy in swimming trunks, who is topless."
This went back and forth, until her partner finally just cheated and looked at the picture...and bust out laughing again.
Finally, he explained...Allison had, in fact, been signing that there was a YOUNG GIRL in swimming trunks who was topless.
Which is pretty funny.
But not NEARLY as funny as the moment that came as Allison was driving home that same day...
...and suddenly realized that her entire class thinks she has a lesbian lover in the military.
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(Hrmph. Why the heck can't I post any pictures? Stupid xanga...)
