Milestones and Memories

In the nursing program we have a "skills lab" once a week in which we practice the physical skills we need to have in order to work as nurses-- making a bed in a hospital room, taking blood pressure, ausculating breathing and heart sounds, etc.

One of the skills I'm most nervous about is using needles. It's no secret that we use a ton of them in my chosen profession. And since I dreaded needles most of my life, I was very anxious about this.

Today's skills lab was on needles.

About a year ago, I went to the doctor after coughing non-stop for 3 days. My doctor tenatively diagnosed me with asthma (correctly, as it turned out) but had blood drawn to rule out a couple of other things-- including a "PE"-- a pulmonary embolism (a blood clot in my lung). It turned out that it was the beginning of a year of being a virtual porcupine-- I've had so many needles in me in the last year. That night, when a test for the pulmonary embolism turned up positive (falsely, as it turned out), my doctor sent me to the emergency room for CAT scan to check for a blood clot in my lung. I had a "PICC" line put in my arm so that they could give me one of many things they put in my veins or took out that evening. And I got a hepatitis shot, just for good measure.

Fortunately, it turned out that I didn't have a PE, but the nursing school application I turned in earlier that day would make sure that I would see many more needles. I've had to have blood drawn for various tests and titres (blood tests to make sure you have an immunity). I've lost count of how many shots I've gotten. I got two, for the seasonal flu and H1N1, a couple of weeks ago, and have to get another in a week or two for the last of my Hepatitis shots.

My skills lab went well. I was nervous as hell at first, handling the needles, learning to draw from vials and ampules and how to inject IM (intermuscular) and an insulin shot-- we actually have dummies to practice on. The instructor also sent us home with a couple of needles and a vial to practice with.

Afterward, I mused on how the last year of my life had helped me get ready for this; I'm pretty okay with needles, finally. And I thought about how a lot of things have led up to this.

I've mentioned before that my old drinking buddy Marty, a guy I hung out with in the Gingerman Tavern back about 20 years ago, is in my class this semester. This week in class, we were talking about the ideas of Eriksen, which a lot of the program is based on. Last semester we focused on "older adults" (geriatric is generally not used any more). This semester it's young adults (18-40) and middle-aged (41-65). Our instructor expressed gladness that there were a few people who were, like her, in the latter group, and made a comparison-- would it be appropriate for someone in the "older adult," in the "generativity vs. stagnation" phase to be sitting in a bar drinking every night? And right on cue, Marty and I looked at one another and chuckled. I knew that he was thinking what I was thinking: "We took care of that in our 'young adult' years."

Marty and I get a kick out of being looked at as the "wizened elders" in the class by the youngsters. I realize that he and I have no regrets about our past lives. It all led here. I don't know about him, but the years spent hanging out, making great friendships, having great conversations-- and burning off some anger-- were just what I needed after a youth spent dealing with both a troubled parent and suburban dickheads who didn't like me because I was from the city and hence different from them. It was great to have those years to indulge, to have some great (and some not so great) relationships. I learned a lot, particularly about myself and how I needed to change. I'm a better father than I would have been if I hadn't had that time to blow off steam and I'm a better husband than I would have been. And a better student.

As wearying as my life can be lately, I'm still very happy with it. I like being a dad. I like being married. I like the stability I have these days.

But once in a while, I pour a glass of wine, slip the earphones on and listen to Jim Croce's "Careful Man," which I've put up on my "Boxnet" widget to the left ("The Soundtrack To My Life.") It's nearly a dead-on biography of my younger days. I'm reminded that I spent 6 or 7 of my 9 lives already, and I pay close attention to the last line: "I used to be a terror, but now I am a careful man."

I don't gamble, I don't fight
I don't be hangin' in the bars at night
Yeah I used to be a fighter but
Now I am a wiser man

I don't drink much, I don't smoke
I don't be hardly mess around with no dope
Yeah I used to be a problem but
Now I am a careful man

Chorus:
But if you used to want to see a commotion
You shoulda seen the man that I used to be
I was trouble in perpetual motion
Trouble with a capital "T"
Stayin' out late, havin' fun
And shot off every single shot in my gun
Yeah I used to be a lover but
Now I'm an older man

Chorus

But if you used to want to see a commotion
You shoulda seen the man that I used to be
I was trouble in perpetual motion
Trouble with a capital "T"
Stayin' out late, havin' fun
And shot off every single shot in my gun
Yeah I used to be a terror but
Now I am a tired man
Yeah I used to be a terror but
Now I am a tired man