Emotionally charged ramblings from a Student of Life.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

22 May 2008

Lesson of the Week #2.

Title: Why we have veterinary technicians.

Prologue: This week in Nutrition we've been learning about how the body responds to hormonal stumulii such as insulin and glucagon.

Details: (in very general terms, for the non-vets out there) The main fuel for all cells of the body is glucose. Two types of cells specifically run on glucose alone, red blood cells (RBCs) and neurons (highly prefer glucose). Neurons are really picky about their fuel source (think Saskia is a neuron and glucose is meat), and being the "generals" of the body they monitor levels 24/7. If the level of blood glucose drops, messages are sent off to the other cells of the body via hormones to reestablish homeostasis (i.e. it's happy place). These cells play a game of 'telelphone', telling each other that the body needs to eat. The body eats, the glucose levels go up, and the neurons are happy.

BUT - what if the glucose levels continue to drop?

The neurons get really really pissy, and they start to rebel. That's when the body starts to convulse, drop into a coma, and eventually die.

Lesson: So what is a veterinarian to do when a convulsing animal comes into the clinic? Get its glucose levels up fast. How? Give it Karo syrup. Who will get that Karo syrup into the convulsing dog's mouth? Why, the technicians, of course!!

(NOTE: to all of my former techincian mates, I in no way thought this story was funny nor did I participate in laughing one bit.)

It was truly an omen...but of good or bad things to come?

On our way out to the anatomy lab Tuesday night, we were distracted by an amazingly bright orange sliver of light emanating from across the ocean in the direction of Nevis. Initial thoughts were that we were seeing some sort of nuclear explosion or supernatural rift in the time-space continuum. Upon further observance, however, we were totally psyched to watch a gorgeous, large, orange, full moon make it's way out of the clouds and crest over the peninsula between St. Kitts and Nevis!

It was incredibly distracting (anything is, really, when you're only alternative is the smell of formalin). We just stood and watched as the moon slowly rose to spread it's light across the ocean.

A welcomed distraction.
Just to the right are the lights of Nevis.
Brighter and brighter as it rose higher and higher.
Gorgeous!!
You could even see the Man on the Moon!
The lights of Nevis. Looks a lot bigger at night...

What is wrong with this picture?

Thought I would share a few of the choice differences between the states and this beautiful island paradise:


Driving on the wrong side of the car/road.



Yes, that's right. Chester Cheetah eating a CHEESEBURGER.

Food flavors that were never meant to occur in nature.

Animals with mutant powers.
(read story about the mutant spider in future blog)

18 May 2008

Ouch.

My head is about to explode. Seriously.

I know you all tend to feel I may be a little teensy bit overly melodramatic, but it really can happen:
http://mail.rossvet.edu.kn/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.mit.edu/~mkgray/head-explode.html

Please take note of this line: Victims are highly intelligent people with great powers of concentration.

Also, this one: ...the doctor urges people to take it easy and not think too hard for long periods of time.

As to the test:

A "yes" answer to any three of the following seven questions could mean that you have HCE:

1. Does your head sometimes ache when you think too hard? (Head pain can indicate overloaded brain circuits.) YES
2. Do you ever hear a faint ringing or humming sound in your ears? (It could be the sound of electricity in the skull cavity.) OCCASIONALLY
3. Do you sometimes find yourself unable to get a thought out of your head? (This is a possible sign of too much electrical activity in the cerebral cortex.) OCCASIONALLY
4. Do you spend more than five hours a day reading, balancing your checkbook, or other thoughtful activity? (A common symptom of HCE is a tendency to over-use the brain.) YES
5. When you get angry or frustrated do you feel pressure in your temples? (Friends of people who died of HCE say the victims often complained of head pressure in times of strong emotion.) OCCASIONALLY
6. Do you ever overeat on ice cream, doughnuts and other sweets? (A craving for sugar is typical of people with too much electrical pressure in the cranium.) YES
7. Do you tend to analyze yourself too much? (HCE sufferers are often introspective, "over-thinking" their lives.) YES

As I said, my head is about to explode. I wonder if I can get a nurse's pass from my anatomy exam for that?

15 May 2008

Stairway to Sweatiness.

For those of you who had no faith in my ability to "get into shape", let me talk to you about some stairs.

This campus, while set on a tropical island in the middle of the Caribbean, has some downsides. Specifically, it is built on what can only be termed as a gigantic mountain (some exaggerating is expected in my writing). The elevation is a plus when you consider the fantastic views of the ocean, ships sailing by, and beautiful sunsets you can see from your classroom as your attention starts to wane during another lecture on action potential (a la Fast Times at Ridgemont High). The major con, however, is in the seemingly infinite number of steps leading to anywhere. I swear it's like living in Hogwarts.

To demonstrate this claim, and prove that my exaggerations are always only slight in nature, I have once again proof in the form of photographs. To get from the lower part of campus (lectures halls, Microscope Lab, eateries, etc.) to the higher portion of campus, you must climb three successive sets of stairs. The first brings you to the anatomy lab:


First set of steps. No biggie, right?

Course, if you aren't going to anatomy, there really isn't much else you can do but continue up:


Second set of stairs. At this point your face is glistening in the high noon sun, and you're starting to consider using the handrail despite how dorky you will look.

If you'll notice the yellow line on the ground to the right, that is another set of stairs, only about 6 total in that one, and it leads to the library. If you decide to continue up because you have no interest in quiet library fun, you will be heading towards admin. At the top of the second flight you can turn left and enter the air conditioned goodness of the administration building or one of the various classrooms. You can also hang out with the tortoises in the tortoise enclosure (space between two walkways). Frequently you will see a gaggle of vet students observing the feeding habits of the tortoise. For fun. Because that's what vet dorks do for fun. That and write blogs.


"If I step on the food, then the others won't want to eat it and it'll be all mine, alllll mine!!! HA ha ha ha ha!!


Beat it Lady! We're trying to eat here!!
At this point, you've reached the last set of stairs. Should you not want to mail a card or top up your phone's minutes (admin offices) or catch Salmonella (tortoises), you will be facing the third and final set of stairs. And as you walk toward them you will hear your feet squishing in your shoes and your hair is plastered to your head (who needs hairspray when you have sweat?). As a bonus, you just felt a bead of sweat run down your spine.



Trust me, by this point you're wheezing and saying silent prayers of thanks for the birth and intellect of a man named Otis.

As you crest the top of the final set of stairs, your eyes behold an oasis of yummy goodness in a simmering sea of heat waves. The Student Union. The place where they hold your mail hostage (it feels like when I was in summer camp, even down to the pitying look the mail lady gives you each day as you eagerly request your mail and you have none), the place where you can buy all of those overpriced generic school supplies from the local mafia, and most importantly, the place where you can purchase an iced coffee with vanilla syrup AND a moist chocolaty chewy brownie. All for yourself. Because at this point, after trekking across what basically feels like the Sahara desert with elevations, you will NOT be sharing this brownie with another soul. Good luck to any and all who attempt to share.


I see your fingers sneaking in for the last bite. I'll bite them off. Watch me.

In conclusion, I must add to my discussion above my recent observation that not only are there a gazillion steps on this campus, the steps are also not of any sort of standard measurement. According to Osha's website, stair rises (the height of the step from one to the next) should be between 6.5 and 9.5 inches depending on the angle at which the stairs rise. In this case, the angle is super steep and the rise has got to be double what it should be.

Therefore I predict that at some point in the next two years, I will either: A) completely embarass myself and potentially injure my knees by hitting the front of the next step with my foot and losing my balance or B) losing my balance completely because of the counter-weight called my bookbag shifting and causing me to tumble down a flight of unyielding concrete stairs.

Unfortunately, since I will not be able to prove that the incident does not fall under "sports related injuries" (using the stairmaster is technically a gym exercise, which I think they will argue is a sport), my insurance will not cover my broken limb injuries and I will not be able to hitch a free ride to the states. Instead my ride will cost around a semester's worth of tuition. More than likely I'll just get stuck in the local hospital where they will improperly set my leg, and then when I wake up from the drugs they'll realize that they set the wrong leg (sending some props to Tampa General Hospital there, in case ya'll didn't catch that).

 
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