I grew up with a very superstitious grandmother. Leaving my shoes upside down would kill my mother, breaking a mirror would give me 7 years of bad luck, same thing if I opened an umbrella indoors, etc, etc. It was a very big list of forbidden things and curses. Well, if any of them were true, my poor mom would have passed a long time ago, and since she is alive and well, I can say that I do not believe in these things.
On the other hand, there are some nurse's superstitions that I cannot explain, because they really do have consequences. The most notorious one is saying the "Q" word in emergency (quiet). It is pretty much the same as swearing for ER nurses. You just don't say it. Don't even think about it. But I personally find that even more effective than saying the "Q" word is to bring a good book to read when it is quiet. That is just guaranteed to supply my shift with an endless stream of business to the point that I won't even get a break, never mind read a book.
Another interesting fact is that things come in bundles. You won't put a chest tube in for months and then, all at sudden, in a week you have done 5. One time we had to put 3 in a day! Similarly, deaths will usually happen in 3s.
We also receive bundles of patients. One day it will be like an ortho clinic, everybody broke something. Then the next day it will be peds clinic and we will be drowning with sick children. Then we can have the next day of the abdominal pains, followed by a day of chest pain patients, and so on.
I remember when I first started working in Smithers (after nursing for 4 years), and I was checking out their anaphylatic reaction tray and protocol, and I thought to myself (I didn't even say it aloud): "um.. I have never had to actually give anybody an epi shot for allergies, I should review what is the dosage". By the end of the week I had given so many shots, I new the dose by memory and was now treating somebody with such a severe reaction that we had to put him on an epi drip while waiting to transfer him out! Similar situation when I was showing my student our TNK box (a super clot buster used in certain heart attacks) and I commented that I hadn't had to use it in a long time. Well, that week I used it twice.
I don't know what it is... the power of positive thinking? Or I should say negative thinking? I don't know how to explain these things.
Anyways, here is a recent interesting thing. I had been thinking the last cpl of weeks that I should buy a lottery ticket before I leave Canada. Just because, you know, no specific reason. I usually don't buy lottery tickets, but I don't know why I was actually thinking about that. I never got around to buying it, and I never said it to anybody that I wanted one. Then yesterday at work I was surprised by one of our housekeepers saying that she was organizing this group to buy lottery tickets for the 50 million jackpot and that she needed one more person. Well, isn't that interesting? So, just 5 days before leaving canada, and 5 bucks later, I actually got the ticket that I wanted. I find that intriguing... Now I just need to figure out how to win. My friend seems to have it figured out, and said that the tickets are resting below a special rock and a four-leaf cloverleaf. So, who knows, I might just be a millionaire by monday! :)
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
"Super Natural British Colombia"
That is the slogan for the province, and I could not agree more with it. As I start to prepare the last minute details before my departure, I can't help but look around and marvel at the beauty of this place. BC is really supernatural. The mountains, lakes, glaciers, animals... the tall trees, the energy of the forest... I will miss it, a lot. The Hudson Bay mountain silhouette against a big blue ski, main street with its cute little shops and the ice cream booth in Telkwa (hum.. black cherry sundaes). Yes, I will miss it a lot. The picture below is actually Mount Robson, the highest point in the Canadian Rockies.
But I think that what makes this place really special is the people. Canadians are awesome people. Always so friendly and helpful and polite to the point of being annoyingly polite. I am used to it now, but I remember just thinking "oh people, get over it!". It's always "please", "pardon me", "excuse me", "I'm so sorry"...
In Brazil, if you want somebody to pass you the salt on the table, you don't beat around the bush, you just say "Pass me the salt" and nobody will take you for an ungrateful person. But don't you dare say such a thing at a Canadian dinner table... you will hurt feelings and be considered very rude! Say "Could you be so nice and pass me the salt please", much better. And if you don't understand something, don't say "what?", might as well just slap the person on the face. Instead you have to say "pardon me?". Sensible Canadians... you gotta love them.
Anyways, now I have to decide what to pack, and what kind of goodies to take with me. Chocolate might melt, but I thought of putting some ice packs around it.. might work. If not we can just drink it instead of eating it. Some maple syrup as a treat for my team, of course, along with some other novelties and a cpl of bottles of wine. I think that should do, no?
But I think that what makes this place really special is the people. Canadians are awesome people. Always so friendly and helpful and polite to the point of being annoyingly polite. I am used to it now, but I remember just thinking "oh people, get over it!". It's always "please", "pardon me", "excuse me", "I'm so sorry"...
In Brazil, if you want somebody to pass you the salt on the table, you don't beat around the bush, you just say "Pass me the salt" and nobody will take you for an ungrateful person. But don't you dare say such a thing at a Canadian dinner table... you will hurt feelings and be considered very rude! Say "Could you be so nice and pass me the salt please", much better. And if you don't understand something, don't say "what?", might as well just slap the person on the face. Instead you have to say "pardon me?". Sensible Canadians... you gotta love them.
Anyways, now I have to decide what to pack, and what kind of goodies to take with me. Chocolate might melt, but I thought of putting some ice packs around it.. might work. If not we can just drink it instead of eating it. Some maple syrup as a treat for my team, of course, along with some other novelties and a cpl of bottles of wine. I think that should do, no?
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
My secret fantasy
Ok boys, settle down, it is not what you are thinking ;) My secret fantasy is simple: a huge fire in each and every university in the world, where students can throw their APA manuals in it, while dancing around it :) Oh, I can just imagine myself singing and jumping around the fire while I watch it burn! "Burn baby burn!" (singing loudly and madly). Sorry to disappoint, but that is my fantasy.
Remember when you were in fourth grade and you had to write a paper about something like the local folk stories or about this or that battle? And you could pick a nice color for your file, where you would put your hand written work, including that nice cover page with your best handwriting and glued pictures? And then you would compare with the work of your friends and see witch one was the prettiest (and there were always the ones that had the moms do all the nice art work for them... I didn't have that privilege). Anyways, on those days I would always get good grades, because what mattered was the content of my work. as long as it was presentable, my ideas were what counted.
Now I have grown up and gone to University, and to make matters worse, into a Master's degree. Then all at sudden my ideas are only relevant if I don't forget the dot after the "et al" (dot)... Does that make any sense?? I can see the importance of crediting sources and etc, but the precise space between the paragraphs, and the margin, and the length of the tab space... oh give me a break! I vote for the PPP rule: pretty, professional and presentable. Who cares if your subtitles are centralized or not? Looks PPP, then you're good. Just simple. Just like that.
Now the biggest joke is this: the latest edition of the APA manual is actually being recalled. Why, you ask me? Too many mistakes! LOL, not even them can get it right!! So why should I try? Vote for PPP!
Raquel - (Listening right now to Aerosmith: Dream on)
Remember when you were in fourth grade and you had to write a paper about something like the local folk stories or about this or that battle? And you could pick a nice color for your file, where you would put your hand written work, including that nice cover page with your best handwriting and glued pictures? And then you would compare with the work of your friends and see witch one was the prettiest (and there were always the ones that had the moms do all the nice art work for them... I didn't have that privilege). Anyways, on those days I would always get good grades, because what mattered was the content of my work. as long as it was presentable, my ideas were what counted.
Now I have grown up and gone to University, and to make matters worse, into a Master's degree. Then all at sudden my ideas are only relevant if I don't forget the dot after the "et al" (dot)... Does that make any sense?? I can see the importance of crediting sources and etc, but the precise space between the paragraphs, and the margin, and the length of the tab space... oh give me a break! I vote for the PPP rule: pretty, professional and presentable. Who cares if your subtitles are centralized or not? Looks PPP, then you're good. Just simple. Just like that.
Now the biggest joke is this: the latest edition of the APA manual is actually being recalled. Why, you ask me? Too many mistakes! LOL, not even them can get it right!! So why should I try? Vote for PPP!
Raquel - (Listening right now to Aerosmith: Dream on)
Friday, July 16, 2010
Children are amazing
They never cease to amaze me... of all the patients I get in emergency, children are by far the most fascinating and scary at the same time. You never know exactly what to expect and they are just so full of surprises. They will recover so quickly, but they will also crash really quickly... But for me, there are two main problems when dealing with the little ones, and that is why I have never aspired to be a peds nurse: 1. They cannot always tell me what is wrong, and that scares the hell out of me; 2. They have the "break my heart look"... They look into you, way inside there into your heart, then they grab it with their little hands and they just hold it for you to see in those little eyes... It's as if they could tell you: I am a defenseless little person, I have no weapon, but if you hurt me, I will squeeze this heart with my tears and hurt you back. And then you are at their mercy and you are so scared to hurt them and you fight your best to help them.
Yesterday I had a little girl (5yo) come in with the "break my heart look". She had a nasty cut on her arm, trampoline accident (yet another one..). She was holding this cloth to her arm with such conviction as if her arm would fall off if she only let it go a little bit. Then she looked at me and I was sold. It was that look, half filled with tears, straight into my eyes, scared but at the same time so hopeful that I could help her. It needed sutures.. She cried, with that sincere cry that children have, and I had to endure the pleading eyes and the "no more medicine" "please" "no more medicine" cries while the doctor put some freezing on the wound and proceeded to stitch it up. I know that stings and hurts, so now I feelt like crap for hurting the poor thing. That is why I am not a peds nurse. I hate being the witch with the needles, or to hold them down. Hate it. But at the same time I do love being able to help them, even if they cannot understand it, because I want to, because I can. I love watching them recover their smiles. There is absolutely nothing in my profession that tops that satisfaction. So I keep doing it. I am the witch with the needles, and I just hope that one day they will understand. By the way, she got a pink smiley face sticker on her bandaid after it was all done, and gave me a big smile for that. Forget about the money, I got my payment for the day, right there.
Ps: you will notice I put up a link right below the title of the blog for a petition that MSF is organizing. Please follow the link and sign the petition, we need as many people as possible. Thank you :)
Yesterday I had a little girl (5yo) come in with the "break my heart look". She had a nasty cut on her arm, trampoline accident (yet another one..). She was holding this cloth to her arm with such conviction as if her arm would fall off if she only let it go a little bit. Then she looked at me and I was sold. It was that look, half filled with tears, straight into my eyes, scared but at the same time so hopeful that I could help her. It needed sutures.. She cried, with that sincere cry that children have, and I had to endure the pleading eyes and the "no more medicine" "please" "no more medicine" cries while the doctor put some freezing on the wound and proceeded to stitch it up. I know that stings and hurts, so now I feelt like crap for hurting the poor thing. That is why I am not a peds nurse. I hate being the witch with the needles, or to hold them down. Hate it. But at the same time I do love being able to help them, even if they cannot understand it, because I want to, because I can. I love watching them recover their smiles. There is absolutely nothing in my profession that tops that satisfaction. So I keep doing it. I am the witch with the needles, and I just hope that one day they will understand. By the way, she got a pink smiley face sticker on her bandaid after it was all done, and gave me a big smile for that. Forget about the money, I got my payment for the day, right there.
Ps: you will notice I put up a link right below the title of the blog for a petition that MSF is organizing. Please follow the link and sign the petition, we need as many people as possible. Thank you :)
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sound track
I figured it is time to choose a sound track for this blog. So after much consideration and pondering through various possibilities I have made my choice. Here is goes, I hope you enjoy, please follow the link to watch the video.
Em portugues:
Chegou a hora de escolher uma trilha sonora pra esse blog. Entao, depois de bastante consideracao, eu fiz a minha escolha. Ai vai, espero que vcs gostem. Siga o link aboixo para ver o video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkQQFV2JemA
Green Day - Time of your life
Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.
Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.
It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.
Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.
For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
(music break)
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
Em portugues:
Chegou a hora de escolher uma trilha sonora pra esse blog. Entao, depois de bastante consideracao, eu fiz a minha escolha. Ai vai, espero que vcs gostem. Siga o link aboixo para ver o video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkQQFV2JemA
Green Day - Time of your life
Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.
Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.
It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.
Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.
For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
(music break)
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The Male Chicken Syndrome (MCS)
The Male Chicken Syndrome (MCS)
Well, I would like to describe here a syndrome, well known to health professionals but not officially documented in any text book: the male chicken syndrome (MCS). If you are a nurse, you know what I am talking about: men are chickens, and the bigger and tougher they look, the more they whine and the easier they faint. So, before I proceed, if you are a male reader, please sit down before continuing to read, preferably on a couch where you can lie down if you need.
Last night I got a perfect example of the contrast between general female x male behavior during suffering and pain. The first patient was a 19yo girl, with a broken and dislocated wrist. She walks into my department holding her hand (which she can’t move) very calmly, not crying or anything. Tells me her story as if we were just talking about the weather, and meanwhile I am looking at a grossly deformed wrist thinking that’s gotta hurt. After x-rays we decide that we need to reduce the fracture (put her bones back where they belong), that involves me starting an IV, to which she did not object to at all, and giving her some pain killers. Next the doctor proceeds to insert a long needle into her wrist and poke around to find the right spot to do a nerve block. In case you are wondering, yes, that is painful, and in spite of me pumping Fentanyl like crazy into the poor creature, she has tears running down her face, but even as the doctor asks her how she is doing she says “I’m ok”. She does not move, she does not complain, my only indication of her pain are her silent tears. The worst was not over yet. We still have to reset her bones, which involves pulling on her wrist with a lot of force and then putting a cast on. The doctor asks if she is ready and asks her to let her know if it gets too uncomfortable, to which she replies “ even if it hurts, just do what you have to do”. And so finally after all this, she is released from our tortures for follow up with the orthopedic surgeon.
Well, after that demonstration of bravery by this girl, I get yet another male with MCS in the department. This one came by ambulance after having some chest pain. Young guy, muscular and scared shitless of being there. To top up the picture, he has one of those “man jobs”, you know, those kind of jobs that requires a guy to have some balls. Tough guy, yeah right. The paramedics tried to start an IV, as it is protocol with anybody having chest pain, and he refused. Too scared of the needle. In the department he tells me he is the first to admit that “this place gives me the hibbie-gibies”.
As I said I have met many, many cases of MCS in my career. Another one was a big muscular guy that got into a fight and dislocated his shoulder. I thought he was going to pass out just at the mention of an IV, seriously, cold sweats and everything…. One guy just about chopped of his shin with an axe, again, preferred to be in pain then to let me start an IV on him and give him some good drugs. I guess an axe on your leg is less painful then a little needle, right? And many, many others… the tougher they look, the worse it gets.
I must say that not all men suffer from MCS, just a high percentage of them. And thank goodness that hey don’t have to deliver any babies… imagine how that would go!
Well, I would like to describe here a syndrome, well known to health professionals but not officially documented in any text book: the male chicken syndrome (MCS). If you are a nurse, you know what I am talking about: men are chickens, and the bigger and tougher they look, the more they whine and the easier they faint. So, before I proceed, if you are a male reader, please sit down before continuing to read, preferably on a couch where you can lie down if you need.
Last night I got a perfect example of the contrast between general female x male behavior during suffering and pain. The first patient was a 19yo girl, with a broken and dislocated wrist. She walks into my department holding her hand (which she can’t move) very calmly, not crying or anything. Tells me her story as if we were just talking about the weather, and meanwhile I am looking at a grossly deformed wrist thinking that’s gotta hurt. After x-rays we decide that we need to reduce the fracture (put her bones back where they belong), that involves me starting an IV, to which she did not object to at all, and giving her some pain killers. Next the doctor proceeds to insert a long needle into her wrist and poke around to find the right spot to do a nerve block. In case you are wondering, yes, that is painful, and in spite of me pumping Fentanyl like crazy into the poor creature, she has tears running down her face, but even as the doctor asks her how she is doing she says “I’m ok”. She does not move, she does not complain, my only indication of her pain are her silent tears. The worst was not over yet. We still have to reset her bones, which involves pulling on her wrist with a lot of force and then putting a cast on. The doctor asks if she is ready and asks her to let her know if it gets too uncomfortable, to which she replies “ even if it hurts, just do what you have to do”. And so finally after all this, she is released from our tortures for follow up with the orthopedic surgeon.
Well, after that demonstration of bravery by this girl, I get yet another male with MCS in the department. This one came by ambulance after having some chest pain. Young guy, muscular and scared shitless of being there. To top up the picture, he has one of those “man jobs”, you know, those kind of jobs that requires a guy to have some balls. Tough guy, yeah right. The paramedics tried to start an IV, as it is protocol with anybody having chest pain, and he refused. Too scared of the needle. In the department he tells me he is the first to admit that “this place gives me the hibbie-gibies”.
As I said I have met many, many cases of MCS in my career. Another one was a big muscular guy that got into a fight and dislocated his shoulder. I thought he was going to pass out just at the mention of an IV, seriously, cold sweats and everything…. One guy just about chopped of his shin with an axe, again, preferred to be in pain then to let me start an IV on him and give him some good drugs. I guess an axe on your leg is less painful then a little needle, right? And many, many others… the tougher they look, the worse it gets.
I must say that not all men suffer from MCS, just a high percentage of them. And thank goodness that hey don’t have to deliver any babies… imagine how that would go!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Do you know Kiva?
So this one is for those of you who want to help this world but don't know how. Kiva is a microcredit NGO. Micro who? Yes, microcredit. This is how it works:
Imagine you are a single mom in Zambia and you have the great idea of starting your own business, let's say, selling clothes. You need money to buy your first supplies, clothes, etc. Banks won't lend you any money, since you are poor and have no credit, but Kiva will! And guess what, 98.27% of the borrowers pay it back!
So where do you, rich north american, get into this? Well, that is the fun part. You go to www.kiva.org and register your profile. Then you put some money into your kiva account (by paypal or credit card), usually 25 dollars for each loan (you can't even buy a pizza with that). Then you browse through the list of entrepreneurs and pick who you want your money to go to, and voila! You have helped end poverty in the world! Enjoy the feeling.
Kiva will give you a detailed "pay back plan" for each borrower and will notify you when you get your money back. To this date I have made 18 loans, because I keep getting my money back, so I lend it again. You can always cash your money when you get it back, you don't need to reloan it. So, what are you waiting for?
Em Portugues:
Essa eh pra quem quer ajudar esse mundoo mas nao sabe como. Kiva eh uma ONG de microcredito. Micro quem? Isso, microcredito. Funciona assim:
Imagina que vc eh uma mae solteira na Zambia e vc tem a ideia brilhante de comecar o seu proprio negocio vendendo roupas. Vc precisa de dinheiro pra comprar o seu estoque inicial, etc. Os bancos nao vao te emprestar dinheiro porque vc eh pobre e nao tem credito, mas a Kiva empresta! E sabe o que? 98.27% das pessoas pagam o emprestimo de volta!
Entao como eh que vc, brasileiro cheio do dimdim entra nessa? Bom, essa eh a parte legal. Vc vai no www.kiva.org e registra o seu perfil. Depois vc deposita o seu dinheiro na sua conta (paypal ou cartao de credito), geralmente 25 dolares pra cada emprestimo (baratissimo). Depois vc da uma olhada na lista de pessoas pedindo emprestimos e escolhe pra onde vc quer que o seu dinheiro va. e voila! Vc acabou de ajudar acabar com a pobreza no mundo!
A kiva vai te dar um plano detalhado de como aquela pessoa vai pagar o emprestimo e vai te notificar quando o seu dinheiro for pago. Ate hoje eu ja fiz 18 emprestimos, porque eu recebo o meu dinheiro de volta e empresto de novo. Vc sempre pode sacar o seu dinheiro se quiser, nao pprecisa emprestar de novo. Entao, ta esperando o que?
Imagine you are a single mom in Zambia and you have the great idea of starting your own business, let's say, selling clothes. You need money to buy your first supplies, clothes, etc. Banks won't lend you any money, since you are poor and have no credit, but Kiva will! And guess what, 98.27% of the borrowers pay it back!
So where do you, rich north american, get into this? Well, that is the fun part. You go to www.kiva.org and register your profile. Then you put some money into your kiva account (by paypal or credit card), usually 25 dollars for each loan (you can't even buy a pizza with that). Then you browse through the list of entrepreneurs and pick who you want your money to go to, and voila! You have helped end poverty in the world! Enjoy the feeling.
Kiva will give you a detailed "pay back plan" for each borrower and will notify you when you get your money back. To this date I have made 18 loans, because I keep getting my money back, so I lend it again. You can always cash your money when you get it back, you don't need to reloan it. So, what are you waiting for?
Em Portugues:
Essa eh pra quem quer ajudar esse mundoo mas nao sabe como. Kiva eh uma ONG de microcredito. Micro quem? Isso, microcredito. Funciona assim:
Imagina que vc eh uma mae solteira na Zambia e vc tem a ideia brilhante de comecar o seu proprio negocio vendendo roupas. Vc precisa de dinheiro pra comprar o seu estoque inicial, etc. Os bancos nao vao te emprestar dinheiro porque vc eh pobre e nao tem credito, mas a Kiva empresta! E sabe o que? 98.27% das pessoas pagam o emprestimo de volta!
Entao como eh que vc, brasileiro cheio do dimdim entra nessa? Bom, essa eh a parte legal. Vc vai no www.kiva.org e registra o seu perfil. Depois vc deposita o seu dinheiro na sua conta (paypal ou cartao de credito), geralmente 25 dolares pra cada emprestimo (baratissimo). Depois vc da uma olhada na lista de pessoas pedindo emprestimos e escolhe pra onde vc quer que o seu dinheiro va. e voila! Vc acabou de ajudar acabar com a pobreza no mundo!
A kiva vai te dar um plano detalhado de como aquela pessoa vai pagar o emprestimo e vai te notificar quando o seu dinheiro for pago. Ate hoje eu ja fiz 18 emprestimos, porque eu recebo o meu dinheiro de volta e empresto de novo. Vc sempre pode sacar o seu dinheiro se quiser, nao pprecisa emprestar de novo. Entao, ta esperando o que?
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Complaining again... sorry.
So I guess I have to admit I am a bit of a shit disturber… But I just cannot take injustice, as small as it may be, and don’t say anything about it! Is that wrong? Last week I was driving to work and saw the sheriff truck with his lights on pulling a car over on the side. Then he turned off his lights and proceeded to do a big U turn on the highway! Wait a minute! I thought traffic rules applied to everybody, including police officers! His lights were off and he was obviously not chasing anybody, not to mention how dangerous it is to do a U turn on the highway. I tried to figure out a way to pull him over and tell him what I thought of his behavior, but since I couldn’t figure out how to do that, I just called the police from work and put an official complaint. I know… small stuff, but I cannot put up with injustice.
Now, I work with the police a lot in emergency, and I have to say the men and women here in Smithers are usually very professional and competent. They respond quickly and have nerves of steel. They treat everyone nicely and treat us well too. So I give them that. But it is easy to let power get over your head. That is why I complained. To make sure they remember that they are the example to be followed if they want to have authority and respect in the community.
So, the officer that was driving the truck called me back, which is very good for him, and left a message on my machine to call him back. He said he was going on another call. In Brazil, since our police are a joke, nobody would have ever called. They drive like maniacs and you can’t count on them for anything. I hope the Canadian police will never be like that. I will call back on Monday, but must say that I am satisfied already that my complaint was acknowledged.
Little joke:
There was a competition between Scotland yard, the RCMP and the Brazilian police to see who was fastest. They let loose a rabbit on the forest and the police had to find it. Scotland yard went first, 15 minutes later they were back with the rabbit by its years. Next were the RCMP, and only 10 minutes later they had the rabbit. So the Brazilian police went next and they were back in record time! Only 3 minutes and they had a squirrel by it’s ears with a black eye saying: “I’m a rabbit! I’m a rabbit!”
Em portugues:
Eu tenho que admitir que eu crio caso… as vezes a toa. Mas eu nao consigo ficar calada quando eu vejo injustica! Isso eh errado? Semana passada eu estava dirigindo pro trabalho quando eu vi a caminhonete do cherife com a luzes acesas, encostando um carro no acostamento. Depois ele apagou as luzes e fez uma virada no meio da rodovia! Pera aih! Eu achava que as regras de transito valem pra todos, incluindo policiais. Ele estava com as luzes apagadas e nao estava perseguindo ninguem, sem contar que eh perigoso fazer o que ele fez. Eu pensei em acender meus farois e parar o carro dele pra dizer o que eu acho, mas decidi ligar do trabalho e fazer uma reclamacao formal. Eu sei… bobagem, mas eu nao sei ficar calada.
Agora, eu trabalho com a policia o tempo todo na emergencia, e eu tenho que dizer que os policiais aqui sao profissionais, tem nervos de aco e em geral sao muito competentes. Eles tratam todo mundo bem, incluindo a gente. Mas eu sei que eh facil deixar o poder subir na sua cabeca. Foi por isso que eu reclamei. Pra mostrar que eles tem que dar o exemplo primeiro se eles quiserem ter repeito e autoridade na comunidade.
Entao o policial que estava dirigindo a caminhonete me ligou e deixou uma mensagem na minha secretaria que ele estava respondendo a um outro chamado e pediu pra eu ligar de volta. No Brasil, jah que a policia eh uma brincadeira, ninguem nunca teria ligado de volta. Eles dirigem que nem doidos e ninguem pode contar neles pra nada. Eu espero que a policia Canadense nunca fique assim. Eu vou ligar de volta na segunda feira, mas ja estou feliz que minha reclamacao foi recebida.
Piadinha:
Em uma competicao policial entre a Scotland Yard, a policia Canadense e a policia Brasileira, um Coelho foi solto na floresta e a policia competiu pra ver quem achava o Coelho mais rapido. Scotland Yard foi primeiro e em 15 minutos eles estavam de volta com o Coelho. Em seguida foi a policia canadense e em apenas 10 minutos eles estavam de volta com o Coelho. Na vez da policia Brasielria, eles quebraram o recorde! Apenas 3 minutos e eles estavam de volta com um esquilo pelas orelhas, com o olho roxo dizendo: “Eu sou um Coelho! Eu sou um Coelho!”
Now, I work with the police a lot in emergency, and I have to say the men and women here in Smithers are usually very professional and competent. They respond quickly and have nerves of steel. They treat everyone nicely and treat us well too. So I give them that. But it is easy to let power get over your head. That is why I complained. To make sure they remember that they are the example to be followed if they want to have authority and respect in the community.
So, the officer that was driving the truck called me back, which is very good for him, and left a message on my machine to call him back. He said he was going on another call. In Brazil, since our police are a joke, nobody would have ever called. They drive like maniacs and you can’t count on them for anything. I hope the Canadian police will never be like that. I will call back on Monday, but must say that I am satisfied already that my complaint was acknowledged.
Little joke:
There was a competition between Scotland yard, the RCMP and the Brazilian police to see who was fastest. They let loose a rabbit on the forest and the police had to find it. Scotland yard went first, 15 minutes later they were back with the rabbit by its years. Next were the RCMP, and only 10 minutes later they had the rabbit. So the Brazilian police went next and they were back in record time! Only 3 minutes and they had a squirrel by it’s ears with a black eye saying: “I’m a rabbit! I’m a rabbit!”
Em portugues:
Eu tenho que admitir que eu crio caso… as vezes a toa. Mas eu nao consigo ficar calada quando eu vejo injustica! Isso eh errado? Semana passada eu estava dirigindo pro trabalho quando eu vi a caminhonete do cherife com a luzes acesas, encostando um carro no acostamento. Depois ele apagou as luzes e fez uma virada no meio da rodovia! Pera aih! Eu achava que as regras de transito valem pra todos, incluindo policiais. Ele estava com as luzes apagadas e nao estava perseguindo ninguem, sem contar que eh perigoso fazer o que ele fez. Eu pensei em acender meus farois e parar o carro dele pra dizer o que eu acho, mas decidi ligar do trabalho e fazer uma reclamacao formal. Eu sei… bobagem, mas eu nao sei ficar calada.
Agora, eu trabalho com a policia o tempo todo na emergencia, e eu tenho que dizer que os policiais aqui sao profissionais, tem nervos de aco e em geral sao muito competentes. Eles tratam todo mundo bem, incluindo a gente. Mas eu sei que eh facil deixar o poder subir na sua cabeca. Foi por isso que eu reclamei. Pra mostrar que eles tem que dar o exemplo primeiro se eles quiserem ter repeito e autoridade na comunidade.
Entao o policial que estava dirigindo a caminhonete me ligou e deixou uma mensagem na minha secretaria que ele estava respondendo a um outro chamado e pediu pra eu ligar de volta. No Brasil, jah que a policia eh uma brincadeira, ninguem nunca teria ligado de volta. Eles dirigem que nem doidos e ninguem pode contar neles pra nada. Eu espero que a policia Canadense nunca fique assim. Eu vou ligar de volta na segunda feira, mas ja estou feliz que minha reclamacao foi recebida.
Piadinha:
Em uma competicao policial entre a Scotland Yard, a policia Canadense e a policia Brasileira, um Coelho foi solto na floresta e a policia competiu pra ver quem achava o Coelho mais rapido. Scotland Yard foi primeiro e em 15 minutos eles estavam de volta com o Coelho. Em seguida foi a policia canadense e em apenas 10 minutos eles estavam de volta com o Coelho. Na vez da policia Brasielria, eles quebraram o recorde! Apenas 3 minutos e eles estavam de volta com um esquilo pelas orelhas, com o olho roxo dizendo: “Eu sou um Coelho! Eu sou um Coelho!”
Thursday, July 1, 2010
My Aha moment
So last night, me and Dr. Jakubek were having a philosophical conversation at 5 in the morning (when half of your brain is paralyzed from night shift), and I had an Aha moment!
Just recently one of our local doctors was involved in a mountain bike accident during an extreme downhill race and is now paralyzed. I was so upset that so many smart and intelligent people end up like that because of extreme sports. Back in nursing school I remember a rehabilitation hospital we worked at, and it just broke my heart to see all those young, smart and beautiful men and women paralyzed on wheelchairs. Why would you risk your life like that?
Now I understand. I understand the passion. I understood it when Dr. Jack said MSF is like medicine in high speed. It is my equivalent of high speed down the hill mountain biking. You know the risks, and you prepare yourself as best as you possibly can, but you have to do it, because you just can't live with yourself if you don't do it. How much better than being paralyzed is that? Not much in my opinion. If something does happen, you can grieve you losses, but you can live with it, because you followed your passion, and there is nothing or nobody in this world that could talk me out of it.
So now I can relate to all my paraplegic patients and not be so judgmental on them, put my helmet on and head down that hill... just wish me luck.
Em portugues:
Ontem a noite, la pelas 5 da manha (quando metade dos seus neuronios estao congelados depois de um plantao noturno) eu e o doutor Jakubek estavamos batendo um papo filosofico e eu tive um daqueles momentos Aha.
Recentemente um dos nossos medicos sofreu um acidente de mountainbike em uma corrida extrema morro abaixo e agora esta paralizado. Eu estava tao chateada que tantas pessoas inteligentes tem que sofrer e acabar assim soh por causa de esportes radicais. Eu lembro quando na universidade, a gente ia trabalhar no hospital de reabilitacao e quebrava meu coracao de ver tanta gente jovem, bonita e inteligente na cadeira de rodas. Por que alguem colocaria a vida em risco assim?
Agora eu entendo. Eu entendo a paixao. Eu entendii quando I Dr. Jack disse que trabalhar com o MSF eh medicina em alta velocidade. Eh o meu equivalente a alta velocidade, morro a baixo mountainbike. Voce sabe dos riscos, e se prepara da melhor forma possivel, mas voce tem que fazer, porque se nao fizer vc nao consegue viver com a sua propria consciencia. Quao melhor do que uma cadeira de rodas eh isso? Nao muito, na minha opiniao. Se alguma coisa acontecer, voce pode lamentar as suas perdas, mas vc consegue viver com elas, porque vc seguiu a sua paixao, e nao tem nada ou ninguem nesse mundo que pode me convencer a nao ir.
Entao agora eu posso me identificar com os meus pacientes paraplegicos e nao ser tao critica com eles, colocar o meu capacete e ir descer aquele morro. Me deseje sorte.
Just recently one of our local doctors was involved in a mountain bike accident during an extreme downhill race and is now paralyzed. I was so upset that so many smart and intelligent people end up like that because of extreme sports. Back in nursing school I remember a rehabilitation hospital we worked at, and it just broke my heart to see all those young, smart and beautiful men and women paralyzed on wheelchairs. Why would you risk your life like that?
Now I understand. I understand the passion. I understood it when Dr. Jack said MSF is like medicine in high speed. It is my equivalent of high speed down the hill mountain biking. You know the risks, and you prepare yourself as best as you possibly can, but you have to do it, because you just can't live with yourself if you don't do it. How much better than being paralyzed is that? Not much in my opinion. If something does happen, you can grieve you losses, but you can live with it, because you followed your passion, and there is nothing or nobody in this world that could talk me out of it.
So now I can relate to all my paraplegic patients and not be so judgmental on them, put my helmet on and head down that hill... just wish me luck.
Em portugues:
Ontem a noite, la pelas 5 da manha (quando metade dos seus neuronios estao congelados depois de um plantao noturno) eu e o doutor Jakubek estavamos batendo um papo filosofico e eu tive um daqueles momentos Aha.
Recentemente um dos nossos medicos sofreu um acidente de mountainbike em uma corrida extrema morro abaixo e agora esta paralizado. Eu estava tao chateada que tantas pessoas inteligentes tem que sofrer e acabar assim soh por causa de esportes radicais. Eu lembro quando na universidade, a gente ia trabalhar no hospital de reabilitacao e quebrava meu coracao de ver tanta gente jovem, bonita e inteligente na cadeira de rodas. Por que alguem colocaria a vida em risco assim?
Agora eu entendo. Eu entendo a paixao. Eu entendii quando I Dr. Jack disse que trabalhar com o MSF eh medicina em alta velocidade. Eh o meu equivalente a alta velocidade, morro a baixo mountainbike. Voce sabe dos riscos, e se prepara da melhor forma possivel, mas voce tem que fazer, porque se nao fizer vc nao consegue viver com a sua propria consciencia. Quao melhor do que uma cadeira de rodas eh isso? Nao muito, na minha opiniao. Se alguma coisa acontecer, voce pode lamentar as suas perdas, mas vc consegue viver com elas, porque vc seguiu a sua paixao, e nao tem nada ou ninguem nesse mundo que pode me convencer a nao ir.
Entao agora eu posso me identificar com os meus pacientes paraplegicos e nao ser tao critica com eles, colocar o meu capacete e ir descer aquele morro. Me deseje sorte.
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