Cobb salad, healthcare, and handguns

I just got back from a whirlwind weekend back home in Nebraska. Time was not my friend - it slipped away from me far too quickly and I wasn't able to see all of the people I planned on, but I was able to attend two incredible events.

The first event, the MS Society wine walk, was a wonderful way to spend time with friends and support a great cause. (My grandfather suffered with the disease for years.) We walked, wined, and shopped with many of the stores donating partial proceeds to the society.

The second event, a wedding, was heartwarming as well. There is nothing like getting all dressed up and celebrating two people in love starting their lives together. Throw in some friends and wine and I was a really happy girl.

So after an exhausting (but oh so much fun) 36 hours in Nebraska it was time to board a plane again and head to my other home. Waking up at 6:30 am to get on a plane after a long, late night isn't my favorite thing in the world to do. I struggled to throw on a hoodie and brush my teeth. To be honest I'm not even really sure if I brushed my hair.

In Chicago the airline needed to bump a person from the flight and offered a free round trip flight in return. The airline lady hadn't even finished her announcement when I threw my hands up in the air to take her up on it. Woo hoo!!! No shame there. I hear "free" and "plane ticket" in the same sentence and I am all over it.

Thinking I'd use my newly acquired 2 hour layover wisely, I headed to Chilis for lunch. As I took a seat at the bar, some guy next to me offered some hand sanitizer. I shouldn't have accepted his kind offer to kill airport germs because apparently with that I also invited conversation. The first thing he asks/tells me about is Obama's healthcare plan. Or as he saw it, the United States going to hell in a handbasket. I smiled and told him I didn't know enough to comment. (A lie, yes, but I wasn't going to get sucked into this firestorm.)

Somehow by declining to comment on the current state of health care I also provoked him to talk about our right to bear arms. I'm still not sure how his mind jumped from doctor bills to gun ownership, but I found myself shoveling cobb salad in my mouth as fast as I could to get away from his overbearing and unsolicited opinions. I was relieved to get my bill and go to my gate.

Boarding the plane, I was pleased to find that I had the emergency row. More leg room = excellent. My excitement was short lived. Guess who occupied the seat next to me? Yup. Chilis dude. He got all excited and said it was fate that we got to sit next to each other. Why didn't I feel so lucky? I spent the next hour and a half in the air with my hood pulled up over my head pretending to sleep.

I suppose putting up with some guy's rant was still worth the free ticket, but for the love of pete, just let a girl eat her salad.

A little doctor

Walking onto the psych floor, wearing my white coat, and armed with questions for the nurses about a patient who was about to be discharged, I patiently waited while they finished chit-chatting amongst themselves. My questions were eventually answered and after that an unexpected comment was slung my way.

Nurse 1: "Aw, isn't that cute? You look like a little doctor."

Me: Thinking to myself that I was a doctor of sorts. I mean, a doctor of pharmacy, but a doctor nonetheless. I paused for a moment to mentally compose a response, but my momentary lapse allowed another nurse to speak up before I could say anything.

Nurse 2: "Um, she is a doctor. She's a pharmacist."

Nurse 1: "Oh. I see. Well, she looks 19."

I wasn't sure if it was supposed to feel condescending, but suddenly I felt like I was about 5 years old. Did she want to see an ID? With a smile and a shrug I walked away.

I suppose being 28 and looking 19 is probably better than being 28 and looking 37, but once again I found myself trying to prove that I was really truly a pharmacist - or a "little doctor."

*Sigh*

Better luck tomorrow, I guess. Maybe.

It's just a spider - the sequel

Exhausted after 14 hours at work, I flopped down on the couch at home to watch mindless television on TLC. After about an hour with eyes drooping it was time to head to bed. I started picking up some random crap laying around the living room - a shopping bag, a stack of papers, a computer bag with a spider on it. Wait. A computer bag with a spider on it?? Nooooooooooo!


I dropped the bag and papers immediately and once again almost threw up. (I really wish my spider reactions weren't tears and vomit.) The spider just sat there.

Shaken, but ticked off, I grabbed a shoe (Adam's shoe) and held it up high in the air ready for battle. After one swat, I think it lost a leg, but it was still crawling. Gritting my teeth, I gave it one more go. The computer bag and the spider didn't stand a chance. The entire mess went straight to the garbage can - heck if I was going to clean off spider goo from my bag!

I know it's October and Halloween is coming up, but I'd rather the spiders stay inside of the haunted houses and stay out of mine. I can't handle much more of this.

**UPDATE**
An hour after I posted this, Deming found another one. It met its demise in almost the exact place it's predecessor did. Two in one night isn't even fair. It's just mean.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta

Last weekend Adam and I went on a much deserved vacation to Omaha. (FYI, when you mention 'vacation' and 'Omaha' in the same sentence, people laugh at you.) We had a fun-filled weekend planned ahead of us. Family, friends, and FOOTBALL!!!

Husker gamedays in Lincoln are insane. The first thing you notice is the sense of community. Everyone is friendly and happy to be there. Red attire is a must. Each tailgate site hosts its own BBQ where marinated steaks and homemade burger patties are standard. It's heaven.


The game itself is a whole other level of awesome. Goosebumps raise on your arms when the crowd roars. Old people, college kids, and little kids alike spend 4 quarters cheering in support of their team. It is a family environment.


With all of that said, there was one guy who didn't get the memo...

The game ended and we said goodbye to Adam's dad, uncle, and cousin. Walking back to the tailgate site amongst the masses of fans leaving the stadium, we were going to meet up with my parents. We made it back to the truck before anyone else did and about 15 minutes later I spotted my mom. I turned towards the truck to grab a drink and when I turned back around, I saw one of the most bizarre things I have ever witnessed. Some kid, 20 years old at most, was in my dad's face yelling at him. Mom was trying to get my dad to get closer to the truck and away from this nutjob.

Ok, I have to explain something about my dad. He is possibly the nicest man on the planet. Truly. He's the guy who walks around whistling with a smile on his face at all times. He is the LAST person on the face of the planet that anyone would pick a fight with. Yet here I stood trying to understand why some punk in a black and white polo was attempting to fight my father.

Instinctively, and perhaps somewhat irrationally, I placed myself in between my dad and this ruffian. I will refer to him as douchebag (DB) for the remainder of the story.

Me: "Um, what is the problem here?"

DB: "Who the hell are you?" His pupils were as big as dinner plates and surely was doing a little bit more than just drinking.

Me: "I'm his daughter."

(Yes, looking back, I realize that announcing that I was his daughter was not scary, or threatening, and in fact sounded ridiculous.)

DB: Looks me up and down and sneers, "I've turned down better than you," then proceeds to yell over me at my dad. "This is 2009, bitch, I will beat an old man's ass."

I'd like to make two observations. One, I never offered anything to this guy, so I'm not exactly sure what he was turning down. Two, I didn't realize that in 2009 it was in vogue to beat up dads.

It was at this point that Adam looks over to see some dude in my face and then further notices that my dad is somehow involved. Confused, he comes and stands to my right side. My dad's friend flanks my other side and everyone is pretty quiet trying to assess the situation except for me who is still trying to figure out what on earth had happened.

I pleaded with DB's "posse" (4 other guys just standing there) to take their friend and peacefully leave. They just looked at me. Cops had been called by this point, though DB claimed that he had a police scanner and that no one had done such a thing.

Behind me, people are gathering - ready to take care of business if need be, but hoping it wouldn't have to come to that. I stood toe-to-toe with this guy thinking, "Oh my god, I'm going to get punched."

As people became more aware of the situation and the support on our side mounted we started backing this kid up. As he reversed, DB bumped into our tailgate neighbor and turned his agression on him. I took the opportunity to take off running to find some sort of security.

I found security alright - they were tearing apart a brawl on the ground about 200 feet away. Tugging on the yellow shirt of a security lady, I said, "I realize that you have an issue here, but you are about to have another one right down the way if you don't come quick." She uttered a curse word and then took off running after me.

DB wasn't afraid of me. He wasn't afraid of the growing crowd. The one thing he was afraid of was a lady in a yellow shirt. One look at parking lot security and he and his buddies took off with a quickness.

No one was hurt, just more confused than anything, and we all looked to my dad for an answer as to what started the madness. Dad said that while he and my mom were walking back to the tailgate, this kid poked my dad in the chest right where his Husker "N" was. Yelled at him, "Where is your spirit?" His buddy told him not to lay his hands on people. My dad responded the same way, "Don't touch me." Again DB asked, "Where is your spirit?" Dad responded, "Where is yours? I'm wearing red," and kept walking. The guy and his group followed my parents all the way to their vehicle after that just trying to start something that didn't need to be started.

It was unfortunate that the Husker experience was tainted by an unruly "fan," but we still had a great time over all and we got to enjoy a great meal afterwards at Misty's.

Some words of advice: Don't mess with my dad. You will get me in your face faster than you can say "Go Big Red."

It's just a spider

The scene 5 minutes ago:

Deming takes of running after something in the apartment - probably nothing. I mean, she chases her own tail. She's not the brightest.

I think she wants to play so I chase her. She's making chirping noises in the kitchen. I was thinking that it was the worst game of hide and seek ever.

Turns out, she doesn't want to play with me. She's content playing with this giant arachnid on the floor:


Here is a list of things I do:

• Scream for assistance if I see an 8-legged creature
  
• Become nauseous thinking about said creature
  
• Cover my ears and scrunch my face up while someone squishes the invader
• Run away and wait for someone to magically dispose of it

What I don't do:

• Kill spiders

Adam was not around to flex his man muscles and save me from this mess, so tonight I had three options: let it run free throughout my apartment, capture it, or kill it.

Option one was just ridiculous.

Option two seemed good so I grabbed a plastic cup and cried while I played capture the spider. I felt better for about a second and then realized that I had to proceed to option three - there was no way I was leaving that thing under a cup for the rest of the night.

My weapons of choice were a shoe and a few curse words that would make George Carlin blush. Of course I didn't use my shoe. (Tee hee, sorry Adam.)

That spider has since moved on to a "better place."

I'm going to go throw up now.

Lessons learned

I taught my first class today. To students. Real live students.

As a perpetual student and a person generally not afraid to speak in public I thought it would be no big deal. However, when you speak to students as a teacher, you notice things that may have never crossed your mind before.

• No one cares.
• It gets freaky quiet when you have 40 blank faces staring at you.
• No one cares.
• You can hear the whispering from the back of the classroom even though the students think they are uber sneaky.
  
• No one cares.
• The jokes you tell aren't as funny in real life as they were when you were practicing in front of the mirror.
• No one cares.
• The right speaking speed becomes hyperspeed.
• No. One. Cares.
  

Teaching is tough. The clock becomes your nemesis as you are fully aware that each 'tick tock' brings the class closer to its end and the students get anxious to leave . Cell phones are an evil invention - brick breaker and texting are way more important than your lecture on skin care.

Someone did ask me a question. "Excuse me, Dr. Moody....." If I were sitting down I would have fallen out of my chair. The whole 'Dr.' thing is still new and somewhat uncomfortable - Just last year I was in their shoes.

In the end, I survived and no one threw tomatoes at me or booed. Success!

Living and loving

Yesterday marked 3 years of dating for me and Adam. I was super excited all day long and couldn't wait to get off of work to see him. We had a big dinner date planned that evening so I was glad when the day seemed to fly by with psych clinics and meetings. Then I got back to my office and all hell broke loose. Suddenly 4:30 seemed like it was coming much too quickly and the work that I had to complete in that time frame became overwhelming. I hurriedly attempted to type my clinic notes, then realized that 'quick' does not equal 'proficient,' so I slowed down to my normal pace which can be painfully slow at times. 4:30 came and went and as each minute ticked by I was more and more determined to get my work done and get the heck out of dodge.


At about 5pm I got to leave. (Not horrible, I realize, but
when you've got exciting plans it is agony.) I was defeated from my long day and knew that I had to put on my happy face for our night out. When I opened the door roses and a card were waiting for me. The stress from work dissipated immediately and was replaced with genuine happiness. Take note that the only 'vase' we had in the house was a gigantic beer mug (which only made me smile more).


Adam had scoped out a restaurant earlier in the day, and took me to a fantastic little Italian place. We had dinner and drinks and then decided to check out an English pub that was nearby. We had been pretty cooped up in the house since we've moved, so it was really nice to just get out and spend the evening together checking out what the city has to offer. That night it had great food and great company to offer.


I was dead set on getting a picture of our evening, but it was kind of weird asking some random person at the restaurant to take one. Self photography ensued which is always awkward. You know the kind: One of you is trying to hold the camera as far away as you can while looking graceful, but instead you bring your chin in and look like a scrunch-necked weirdo. Then you have to take the picture over again. And again. Finally a decent photo comes out where you haven't accidentally used the zoom and have gotten a close-up of someone's nose. He put up with me and we finally got this picture on our deck.



We spent the rest of the evening at home just talking and were asleep by 10:30.

Wild and crazy, I know.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Things that go bump in the night

This past week has been a mishmash of fear, growth, and (eventually) triumph. Adam started his 7 night tour on the night shift last Friday. It was something I had been mentally prepping myself for since the move to Kentucky. I knew it would be odd... I have always had someone else in the house whether it was my parents, a roommate, or a really tough roommate's dog, Oliver. Alright, perhaps the dog was more of a lover than a fighter, but he still made me feel better.

I kissed Adam goodbye last Friday and did what any girl would do who is ready to take on the night at home alone - I went out with some coworkers and avoided it entirely. A girls night out with dancing and drinks was a fantastic way to spend my first night "alone."

Saturday I sent him off to work again, but this time it was a different. I didn't have any crazy amazing plans to look forward to. It was just me, myself, and I. Everything went ok until about 11 pm when I decided it was bedtime. I checked the alarm, triple checked the doors and windows, and then attempted to go to bed.

It didn't go well. My nerves got the best of me and it was a struggle to ignore the false alarms going off in my head.
"Did you lock the doors?"
"What if you missed one?"
"What if, what if, what if...."

I got up about 3 different times to check, recheck, and triple check the locks. Then I decided it was time for a weapon. The Louisville Slugger seemed ineffective in case of emergency. I finally settled on a pocket knife next to my pillow. Yeah, that's right, if you want to mess with me, you are going to mess with my 2 inch pocket knife.

After a fitful night of tossing and turning, I fell asleep about 5 am. It was a short lived victory, as my rest was promptly interrupted with a "BANG!" I sat straight up, adrenaline flowing. "Someone was in the house," I thought. I quickly realized that my life was not in danger, it was the darn cat playing with the cupboards again. I don't think I fell asleep again until the morning sun peeked around our curtains.

As the nights went by, sleeping became a little easier. Perhaps this was because each night that went by brought me closer to the night when Adam would get to stay home with me again. I still woke up throughout the night, but fell back to sleep a little quicker each time. I developed my routine of lock checks, quiet time, and a phone call home before bed. It calmed me down and made it easier to fall asleep.

The end of this 7 day stint could not come quickly enough for me and last night we had big plans to go out for a nice dinner. Things didn't go exactly as planned, however, because when I got home, I curled up next to sleeping Adam and took a 2 hour nap instead. Take out Thai food (yum) and DVRed tv shows occupied the rest of our evening. Truly, I didn't care what we did - I was just glad to have Adam back home so he could fight off the things that go bump or bang in the night.

I get by with a little help from my friends

Soaring stress levels.

Out of control food cravings.

Fear.

Doubt.

Fits of laughter only brought on by panic.

I can only say thank you to my friends and family who have put up with me over the past 2 weeks. I don't even know how I put up with myself!

My co-residents were amazing and had to deal with my insecurities 8 hours a day at work. Virginia brought me homemade pickles. Mmmmmm.... pickles. Tristan brought cookies that Michelle made. Mmmmmm.... cookies. Tara and Meghan enabled my addiction to salty and sweet treats in our office. I got high fives and encouragement in the weeks leading up to my exams.

Sunday night, my paralyzing fear was briefly lifted with Amanda's revelation that she wanted this to be her future pet:

I don't think I have ever laughed so hard in my entire life. I thought the picture had been photoshopped. She informed me that this was a Maine Coon cat. Again I thought that it was a fantasy animal like a unicorn or a liger:

Deb: What are you drawing?
Napoleon Dynamite: A liger.
Deb: What's a liger?
Napoleon Dynamite: It's pretty much my favorite animal. It's like a lion and a tiger mixed... bred for its skills in magic.



So yeah, the Maine Coon is the real deal and I'm not going to lie, it would scare the crap out of me. It would need its own seat at the dinner table and I think you'd have to register it as an exotic pet.

I took the exam on Monday afternoon, went to my car and cried because I swore I just failed. Adam consoled me with PF Changs and a trip to the apartment swimming pool. And then I waited.

I wasn't very patient. I called the board of pharmacy on Tuesday morning to see if I had passed. The man on the other end sounded annoyed and told me to wait 3 business days. No way, Jose. I'd be calling the next day.

Today, I held back my insane urges to repeatedly call the board.... until lunch time. Then I made Virginia do it. :) I think I blacked out until I heard the words, "Ok, thanks, and what is her license number?" A license number means I passed!

I'm official. It feels great.

This says it all

Deming has got the right idea. It's sleep time.

12 hours and counting.... tick tock.

Dreams of Parkinson's related treatments and overdose antidotes shall greet me when my head hits the pillow in 5, 4, 3, 2, Zzzzz...............

Panic sets in

Walls are closing in on me and I am wearing panic like a jacket. It's not a very fashionable jacket mind you - It's uncomfortable and it's tight. I can't wait until Monday afternoon when I can take it off.

Why?
The NAPLEX (licensing exam) is in 1.5 days.
Dun dun dun.

I am mildly freaking out, but trying to control the urge to run out of my apartment screaming with several things:

• The Meatloaf 'Bat ouf of Hell' CD from 1977
• A bubble bath
• The realization that 93% of people pass this test - I have a pulse and paid attention in class therefore I should pass
• A candle from Bath and Body Works
• An inhaler
• Watching my cat have active dreams like a dog
• Watching this video for the millionth time (it just doesn't get old)
  

Enough with the delays... back to studying.

Wish me luck and pray that the information which has gotten lost in the cracks and recesses of my brain somehow finds its way out on Monday.

(FYI: I did pass my law exam!)

Snack Happy Web Surfer

Everyone deals with stress differently. Some people shop while others do productive things like exercise. Eating and avoidance top my list of coping skills.

When something important is looming over my head I can suddenly tell you EVERYTHING that is going on in the world because I triple-check every website at least 5 times an hour. I could probably give you an up to date account of the weather conditions in Sydney, tell you the makeups and breakups of celebrity couples, and also give you 21 tips for new home buyers. I can't help myself. It's a sickness.

Web surfing wouldn't be complete for me if I didn't have something to munch on. Munching = shoveling random foods into my face. You know how pregnant women get cravings? I get those too as my stress levels increase. I'll decide that a box of pasta sounds good. And some ice cream. And some olives. And a handful of peanuts. And pancakes. You get the picture. Not gonna lie, it gets crazy around here and you don't want to get in my way.

On a scale of 1 to 10 my stress level is an 11 right now (hence the blogging distraction). Two exams currently block my path to freedom: Kentucky law and the NAPLEX. These two tests will strike fear into any graduated pharmacists soul. If you pass, you are official. If you fail... well... you just don't want to do that.

I took my law exam yesterday and it was absolutely horrible. And now I wait. The state will send me a letter sometime in the next week or so letting me know my fate. I am kind of OCD about checking the mail at this point.

In 9 days I take the NAPLEX. It's the clinical portion of the exams. It frightens me. Big time. However, if you live anywhere close to me you could use this to your advantage because I am cooking up a storm. Crockpots are full and baking pans are being utilized to the max.

Don't worry, I've got Tums on standby.

I met someone today

~ Humankind cannot bear very much reality. ~ T.S. Eliot

Yesterday I got paid. I stared at my bank account feeling quite giddy. I had been patiently awaiting the arrival of my first official paycheck for a long time now. Three years to be exact.

That money had plans.
Very specific plans.
Plans that had me squirming in anticipation.

Was I going to go on a frivolous spending spree?
Not a chance.

An expensive celebratory dinner?
Nope.

I was going to get a membership at Sam's Club.

There moments in your life when you realize that something has changed. I realized that I had officially become an adult the moment I found myself more excited about a membership to a store where I could buy 10lb cans of applesauce than the prospect of buying a new wardrobe.

*Sigh*

Anyhow, I figured that after I paid off my outstanding bills, I'd have a few hundred dollars left to spend at the Sam's superstore. I was looking forward to coming home with more meat than I knew what to do with and perhaps enough toilet paper to supply the entire apartment complex.

Alas, today I was introduced to someone.

Bri, meet Reality.

I thought I was ready for Reality. I had been prepping myself for this meeting for a long time, but never knew when she would arrive.

Reality stepped into my home this morning and smugly let me know that I had forgotten about a bill which required the remaining portion of my paycheck - and $30 more. Crap. She wasn't nice about it. She didn't sugar coat it. She wanted that money and she wanted it now.

So now Sam's club will have to wait and I will continue to eat ramen and eggs for dinner with the occasional box of Mac 'N Cheese for good measure.

Go away Reality. It turns out I'm not ready for you yet.

Do we have __________?

Right now our townhouse is looking pretty darn spiffy. Most things are in their rightful place. We even splurged on a couch cover as evidenced in the photo below.


Let it be noted that this couch cover shifts every time you sit on or even just look at it. I am always adjusting it back into place, but it still beats the pepto. The chairs are still a work in progress...

I am now at the point where I find myself looking for things that I know we had at some point along the way. Things that are not hugely important, but could really help out. An air pump to inflate a basketball, for example. Why would I have just thrown that away? No idea, but now we don't have one. Same goes for the food strainer. Who on earth knows where that went.

What we do have on the other hand, are two irons. Because that seems necessary. Oh, and THREE hair straighteners. I have a feeling I am going to be making a phone call to my mom tomorrow asking her if I was a kleptomaniac when I left their house.

There are some things that we don't have yet, nor have we ever owned. Like patio furniture. We have a glorious deck with nothing to put on it.


The other day I got desperate and dragged one of the pink living room chairs out there. I am nothing but a classy lady.

Sooner or later we'll get around to buying the stuff we need and getting rid of one of the irons... unless me and Adam decide to get wild and crazy and have a head-to-head ironing competition. Then we'll be set.

I'm new - don't judge

There are a lot of things I need to learn about my new surroundings. Specifically at my job. People see my white coat and assume I am the gatekeeper to all of the information they need. Let me tell you, that is not the case. When I can find my way from my office to the lunchroom without getting lost in a linen closet I silently cheer.

Usually when I walk into a room, I am bombarded with lots of questions that I cannot answer.

"When am I leaving?"
"Can I get a wheelchair?"
"Why can't I get my pain meds now?"
"Will you get me another shirt? This one is too small."

Sometimes the questions are awesomely ridiculous:
Walking onto the 3rd floor a nurse hollers down the hallway, "Who stepped in poop?!?!"
As long as it wasn't me, I am cool with it. *Quick shoe check.* Nope not me.

Seriously folks, at this point I am lucky if I can remember the code that lets me back into the pharmacy area. I have no idea what is on the patient lunch menu or why it smells funny in the hallway. I wish I did. It would make my life so much easier. But at this point, I just have to smile and shrug.

Yesterday I had to do a patient admission interview. Fairly routine at this point. I walk down the hallway and as I am ready to confidently walk into the patient's room, I am greeted with something unfamiliar: The red tape.

I don't know much, but I know that red tape in a room means, "Don't cross me without proper personal protection." Ok, I can handle this. I just need to find a gown and gloves. I do a 360 and try to figure out where I would get such items. After about 3 minutes of looking, I see a nurse down the hallway. I run up to her and ask her where I should go to get gowned and gloved. "The patient's door," she replied. Ohhhhhhh, I see. She means the door I stood in front of for 3 minutes completely bewildered.

Fantastic. I now have the gown in my hands and I open it up feeling victorious. Now was my second problem: which way does the gown go on? Crap. I have watched enough episodes of ER to figure this out, right? Hmmmmm.... do I put it on like a jacket, or like a patient gown with the open back? Once again, I run down the hallway to ask the same very nice, extremely patient nurse what I should do. "Back open," she informs me. I thanked her and went along my merry way feeling a little dumb, but at least with my gown on the right way.

Week two of my new gig is now complete. I'm learning a lot along the way, but for now I am still new, so please don't judge me. And if you do judge, please do it silently.

Nothing to do nowhere to go.

Do you know what me and Adam did this weekend? Whatever we wanted to.

I didn't set an alarm, had nowhere to be, and loved every second of it.

We took the time to make ourselves a homemade breakfast (at noon) and meandered over to the pool for the afternoon.

When we got back home we took naps. Totally unnecessary naps. Because we wanted to.

We watched movies, spent time enjoying each others company, and chose to ignore the clothes that still need to be hung up from the move.

It was glorious.

Tomorrow I will wake up early, go to work, and do something productive. But tonight, in this moment, I choose to do nothing.

What do you call a guy with two black eyes?

I just finished my first week as a resident at the VA. The first two days were long, drawn out days of orientation. Wednesday we (me and two other residents) actually started our work in the pharmacy.

I felt like a kid on Christmas when my boss handed me my crisp, long, white jacket with "PharmD" embroidered on it.

We also got pagers. Am I important to have a pager? Apparently someone thinks so. I promise I will try to hide my surprise and/or fear the first time it goes off.

Last but not least, we have an office... with a phone extension... you know, so people can get in touch with me if they need to. Eeeeek!

My pharmacy orientation started with learning how to process new admissions to the hospital. My job was to go over the patient's old meds, compare them with their new hospital meds, and make sure everything matched up. This includes a patient interview. I took a deep breath and took the stairs to the 3rd floor to talk to a patient. I was extremely nervous.

I walk in to the room and ask patient X if he was indeed patient X. He nods and beckons me to come closer to his bedside. I scoot closer. He motions me to come even closer. I am awaiting a question I can't answer or some fantastic revelation.

Patient X: "Do you know what you tell a guy with two black eyes?"

Me: "No, sir."

Patient X: "Nothing. He's already been told twice."

I think I am going to like this place.

Destination Kentucky

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” - Martin Buber

My journey has been a long one.

It began in Nebraska where my parents never thought I would leave my undergraduate college. I did.... 6 years later.

Shortly after I graduated I got the phone call that I had been waiting on for 2 years. "Are you still interested in our program? We have a spot for you." That southern voice on the other end of the line filled me with joy. I had gotten accepted to pharmacy school. Panic set in when I realized I was going to be moving ten days later to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. With the support of my parents and friends back home I packed my tiny car full of clothes and I left.

I was goal driven when I arrived in Savannah. I wasn't concerned about finding friends or the love of my life - I wanted to get my degree and get back home to what I knew. Then I met Maria, Heather, Amanda, and Chasity. There was also a gentleman who caught my eye. Over the course of 3 years I endured stress like I had never known. I also felt support like I had never known. The network of my parents, my closest friends back home (Amina, Anna, Erica, Andrea....), my new Savannah family, and a muddle or two helped me make it through every day.

Graduation almost seemed to sneak up on me this time around. Was I headed home? Nope. Next up: Kentucky. Yes, Kentucky. Never in a million years would I have ever suggested to anyone that I would end up anywhere but Omaha. Once again, my support system kept me going, specifically my parents. I couldn't have done any of this without them. They donated so much time, energy, and funding to get me to this point.

So now I sit in Lexington, KY with the guy who keeps me sane and a cat who likes to slam cupboards open and closed. I have a fantastic new job as a resident and I am looking forward to discovering what the next few years have to throw at me.

Bring it on world, I am ready for the ride.

Bittersweet

Today marked my last day of clinical rotations.

5 1/2 years ago I began my quest to be a pharmacist. I interviewed at a local chain pharmacy and they hired me. (Why, I'm not quite sure - I had pink eye and looked really cool.)

They saw all of my ups and downs - When I initially applied to pharmacy schools I got rejection letters. They urged me to keep trying and I was as determined as ever. This time, I wasn't going to take no for an answer - I applied to 7 schools. The rejection letters started coming again, but they supported me and told me the right place would come along. Sure enough I was eventually accepted. After calling my parents, I called work. They could barely understand me through my excited sobs. They wished me luck and welcomed me back with open arms every holiday break.

Today I took off my original lab coat for the last time as a student. I guess it was supposed to feel like a giant weight had been lifted, but it was a little bittersweet. My co-workers had a party day complete with amazing coffee cake and pizza. At the close of the day they gifted me with some dishes so I didn't have to eat off of paper plates once I got to Lexington. I gave hugs all around and when I got to the last one I burst into tears. It's not like I will never see them again, but I closed a chapter of my life. And they were there to see all of it.

To my co-workers (you know who you are): Thank you.

Movin' on up - hand me on down

Three years ago when I started pharmacy school I had all of these grand ideas about what would happen when I graduated and I was "rolling in money."

Now I am 15 days away from graduation and money is not raining down on me like my imagination would lead me to believe. It turns out that moving is expensive. Licensing is expensive. And furnishing our empty townhouse is, well, really expensive.

So, Adam and I have done some shopping at the best store ever: my parents' house.

They have been ever so generous and we are able to furnish our new place with some of the old furniture that I grew up with that has since found its home in the basement. I am trying to keep an open mind and not be picky because in my head my new home was decorated like it came straight out of a Pottery Barn magazine. Now it will just take some creativity. Cheap creativity.

Most of the stuff is great. And then there is the pink floral living room set.





































They are incredibly comfortable.

But they are pink.

And floral.

Anyone have any ideas on how to accessorize these bad boys and tone down the Pepto-ness?