Mountains

I’m through the first week of my fifth semester, and I am looking at mountains of work to do during the next sixteen weeks.  For the first time, I have signed up for five classes instead of four.  I have one class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and my other four classes fall on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  My hours at work are much-reduced, and it is indeed quite the challenge to keep everything going there on a minimized work schedule.  

German II
My MWF class is German 102.  This class is not required for my major; however, Sharon and I are an application away from signing up for a 12-day Study Abroad course to Germany.  My former German professor contacted us last semester about going with her on this trip, and so we have all but actually committed to going.  So this class is to help bring things together and to expand my German 101 knowledge.  It makes it a little bit more meaningful knowing you MUST learn it for all practical intents and purposes.  I enjoy the language and have seriously thought about getting a minor  in German before I consider myself altogether finished with college.  Sharon and I are both taking this class, so that will either be a big blessing or a big nightmare.  It “ups” the competition big time, even though we constantly remind each other to quit trying to show us up.  We have to do a skit in this class toward the end of the semester, so it will be nice to be able to do it with someone who actually is competent.  We’re thinking about incorporating a German song into it.  That’s bound to be something no one else has tried yet.

Managerial Accounting
Tuesdays and Thursdays are when the meat and potatoes of my semester happen.  My accounting class is first.  I’m not sure what to think of it.  The professor expects you to basically teach yourself the chapter before you get to class.  Then he will answer any questions we have.  I REALLY dislike that style.  He throws in lots of quizzes, and it makes for a very unsettling experience.  I left that class the first day looking for a bench to crawl under to have a good cry.  

Community Health
Then I went to the next class, Community Health, and it made Accounting look very reasonable.  When I left that class, I wanted to break out in out-and-out sobs—forget the bench.  To start with, the regular professor’s husband fell out of a second story window the day prior to the class beginning, so we have a substitute.  This makes a fifth class for her, which is overload, so she’s not really into teaching it.  Now that’s bad enough, but then we have to do so much busy work.  First of all, we have to do 15 hours of health-related community service and write a paper to go with it.  Next, we have to do a group project on developing a health program for our communities; in addition to a 40-minute presentation we give to the class on this project, we have to also write a large paper to go with it.  She even split us up into groups that very first day and made us decide what we wanted to do our projects on.   My group kindly outvoted my motion to do something on diabetes—no, we couldn’t be so tame as all that! We are doing ours on nothing other than STD’s.  Like I said… gut-wrenching sobs!!  And finally, we have to write four smaller papers on health-related articles.  This is all in addition to the five exams we have in the class.

I despaired for several days about the community service; like where exactly am I going to come up with 15 extra hours??  My burden was not unlike that of Pilgrim’s in Pilgrim’s Progress.  Then at Sharon’s urging, I wrote an appeal to the instructor and asked her if the stuff I do for SEMMA couldn’t count.  I think I might’ve even sounded like a real beggar, but praise God!! She wrote me back and said she would count it.   (Thank you, Jesus!)  

The second day in class, we had to write a page identifying what we think is the number one health issue in our communities, what the contributing factors are, and what some possible solutions could be.  Oh, but I do NOT like this class.  Not one tiny bit.  Bah!!

Organization and Management
This class will be my beacon in the night, my favorite, my knight in shining armor.  The instructor is really a dream come true.  For one thing, he got me into the class after it was full, even though the management department says “DO NOT CONTACT THE INSTRUCTOR.”  He told me he can’t stand bureaucracy and he’s “glad to have another bureaucracy-hater on board.”  

When we get to class, he just beams at us all the time.  And guess what we spend a lot of time doing?  We’re going to be watching the first season of “The Apprentice.”  For those of you who don’t know, “The Apprentice” is a reality TV show, where 16 contestants go to NYC and compete with each other to win a chance to be president of one of Donald Trump’s many businesses.  Each week, one of the contestants is fired by Mr. Trump for goofing up on his or her team’s project.  He uses these episodes to make his points; needless to say, this is not your usual textbook-type class.  

I emailed him tonight to ask him if I had to bring the textbook to class, since my backpack is sooo heavy (16 lbs, feels like 40) this semester.  He emailed me back and said we never have to bring it to class.  It’s mainly for a resource and can be read at home.  Oh!! But I love that!  He had also said that he “hopes [I’m] enjoying the class.”  I told him that indeed I am, although I’m a bit apprehensive about some other things on the syllabus (we have some kind of project we have to do later).  I told him I’d worry about crossing that bridge when I get there.   He emailed me again and said, “Don't worry about crossing those bridges with some of the things on the syllabus--I'll be there to help you every step of the way, and I'm sure you'll do just fine!”  He sounds too good to be true—I suppose I’ll have to keep my eye on him.  But I like him, just the same!

Healthcare Organization and Management
This class meets once a week on Thursday afternoons for three hours.  The instructor is Russian.  She has her quirks, but overall, she seems fairly pleasant and easy to get along with.  In this class again, however, we have a research paper to do and yet another presentation.  I signed up for my presentation next Thursday night just so I can get it over and done with.  At least this one is only 7-10 minutes long instead of 40!! AND I get to do it by myself.  I detest group-anythings.  I much prefer to rely on my own steam.   This is another class that is heavy on the reading assignments, but what can you do?  This is the only instructor who teaches the class, and I must have it in order to proceed with my major next fall.  

So anyway, for the five classes, I have well over a total of 100 homework assignments, presentations, quizzes, exams, papers, and readings to do.  Like I said, Mountains!

Humpty Dumpty's Broken Leg

One day earlier this week was a particularly long and drawn-out day. Lori (receptionist) had called in sick with a headache, so that meant that Kris got to spend the day out front, and therefore, her own work was put on the shelf... again. Anyway, Dr. G was in Pokey Mode that day, and it was so frustrating for us to spend all day on patients that should only have taken until 2:30 or 3:00 at the latest. When 5 o’clock rolled around, we had just finished up the last patient. I announced to all that it was “time to go home!”

We gathered up our things and headed out the door. I was out by the mall fighting traffic when I got a phone call from Dee. “You will never believe what just happened to me,” she said. Well, just what could happen in the ten minutes since I had left? She proceeded to tell me.

Dee and Dr. G were the only ones left. Dee was about to clock out when she heard this primal, almost animal-like shriek come from the back of the building. The shriek was accompanied by a very distinct curse word, hollered out just as forcefully. She froze. She says she literally thought that Dr. G had finally done it and was being attacked by a stray patient. She ran to the treadmill room and flipped on the light, expecting–at a minimum–to see the victim of a homicide. Instead of blood and gore, it was only the doc pulling himself up off the floor, one curse at a time. “What happened??” she asked. “I ‘bout peed on myself–you scared me so bad!”

“I almost broke my d*!# leg!” he said, angrily. He finished getting up, then turned and gave a vicious kick to the poor unsuspecting chair that was out from under its table by several inches. Now under normal circumstances, the chair would not have been a problem. But when you walk into a pitch black room without turning the light on... Well, what can you expect?? It was not his moment of glory, shall we say. Neither was it the chair’s.

He finished putting Humpty Dumpty together again, then hobbled off without another word to his office to get whatever thing he was after in the first place.

The next day, Dee wanted to ask him if his leg was sore, but she was afraid she’d get slapped. Some things just aren’t worth it. And amazingly enough, we didn’t get an in-service on chairs that are out further than necessary.