The Fan: An Epic Adventure

The scene: 9:30 pm. Scott is playing tennis, and I am studying. The fan, our only refuge in our steamy, close, second story apartment, begins wailing in an unearthly screech.

10:00. Scott gets home. "What is that?"

10:24. Scott removes the face of the fan, thinking it is a rubbing noise. Dust blows all over our bedroom.

10:27. Scott pours olive oil over the fan.

10:31. "Lorren, will you run down to the car and get the belt conditioner?"

10:34. The bedroom is now steamy and filled with poisonous fumes. And hellish screeching.

10:40. Despair.

10:57. Scott grabs a hammer and gives the fan a couple of solid whacks. I yell out, "That is such a man thing to do! 'Let's just hit a couple of times and see if it works!'"

10:58. An eerie silence descends on our apartment as we wait, breathlessly, to see if the fan will begin wailing again.

10:59. I humbly apologize.

11:02. We go to sleep with the fan (silently) blowing blissfully cold air over us.

Fin.

Making cookies (eating vast amounts of cookie dough)

Lorren: "I feel like death again. But in a good way."

Scott: "That's like the epitome of Lorren - feeling like death from eating too much cookie dough."

Procrastination

Sometimes

when I have a paper to write

I shop online for random things.

Here's what I found today:

I am married to a dentist to be...

"I love your gums and your teeth."

- Scott

And then some days, I feel like this.

I have been accused multiple times of being irrational when I am stressed out. So, if you will, a word of explanation.

Nursing - The Story So Far.

Give me ten words that make you think of your experience as a nursing student so far.

Ready... go.

Challenging

Beautiful

Introspective

Vocation

Dirty

Health

Stress

Overwhelming

Unlimited

Human

So far, my experience has been a mixed bag. On the one hand, I have learned that:

a) commuting mostly sucks

b) the days off on Fridays thing doesn't really count, because you could spend 12 hours studying and still not do everything

c) the professors expect that nursing is your one priority in life. Anything else must be shuffled to the side for that email they will send you 14 hours before your reading is due updating the assignment

d) there is a LOT of dirty work involved. Ever heard of a fecal ostomy?

However, on the other (more influential) hand, I have learned what nursing really is, and it has been eye-opening. In my mind, nurses worked for doctors. The doctors were the bosses, and the nurses did all the dirty work. There were subtle hints of my ideal ideas of what nurses also did, obviously, or I wouldn't have chosen the career at all, but the stereotype definitely hung heavy in my mind.

In reality? What nurses do is beautiful and all-encompassing. We watch the body for reactions to medical treatments and new problems, as well as the return to health. We watch the mind for uncertainties and confusion. We watch the soul for ways to steer it back to more health-promoting states. Today on the bus, the older gentleman next to me said, "I assume you are studying to be a nurse?" (judging from my scrubs and pharmacology textbook, I imagine). When I nodded, he said, "What a noble profession." I felt the fuzzies from that comment for the rest of my 6 block walk to clinical. Ever since I've switched to nursing, I've felt the need to defend my decision, to explain to everyone that it wasn't a step down from pharmacy, even though no one has come out and told me they thought it was. Still, it was nice to get some external validation for the decision, and I think it was a perfect echo of what has been going on inside my head for the last four weeks, underlying the stress and the frustration with due dates - I have found the right profession.

Taste of France

Photo source

Three years ago this week, I said goodbye to my favorite city in the world, the place where I had to stretch myself, speak a different language, and discover the world. I also had to say goodbye to one of the most delicious desserts in the world, the macaron (not to be confused with the macaroon). I have had macarons twice since returning to the United States, but each attempt was insipid and mediocre, nothing compared to the burst of flavor I experienced at world-renowned patisseries like Laduree and Pierre Herme.

However, this week I discovered a little French bakery on 500 South in Salt Lake City, and as I have clinical only 6 blocks away, I decided today was a good time to investigate. I marched there in my scrubs with my frizzy unwashed hair and oversized backpack and asked if they had what I was looking for.

For a second I was disappointed when the friendly, overly cheerful cashier asked, "You mean macaroons?" and gestured at a display. However, after quickly remembering the bakery's own term for macarons, "buttons," (maybe to avoid the confusion with macaroons?) I bought two pistachio confections and left for the train, feeling victorious, and as sophisticated as a girl in scrubs who has been up since 4:30 this morning can feel.

Were they worth the journey? I think so. I haven't found the perfect burst of flavor I experienced in my first macaron (citron) at Laduree, but Laduree did invent the cookies in the first place, so I can't expect a little Salt Lake City bakery to have attained the same level of culinary perfection. The cookie was just the right level of crunch and ganache, and the nutty pistachio taste is still lingering on my mouth. And I am staring at my husband's cookie, wishing I hadn't told him that I'd bought him one. :)