I logged on to this old blog and was surprised that it still existed! I can't believe that it has been so long since I've had a "story to tell". Well, that's not actually true, there have been lots of stories since that last post while I was packing up the old apartment. So that this doesn't become an update from the last several years, lets just assume you follow me on some sort of social media, or perhaps know me in real life (shocking I know), and you have at least a basic understanding of where I am in my life right now: still happily married to my best friend, living in our own little house in P.C., working at a middle school, and expecting our own little bundle of joy any day now. This blog was designed as a place for me to "tell my stories", so, onto a story!
Once upon a time (2 weeks ago) a very pregnant Ginnie went to the doctor for her weekly checkup. The ultrasound was done and it was on to the lab for vitals and the type of sample that is given in a small cup. Turns out, my blood pressure was elevated, so I met with the doctor, had to lay on my side for 15 minutes, and they checked the BP again-still elevated. So across the hall from the doctor I went, into the newly opened labor and delivery center at the hospital and into triage room 1 for fetal monitoring, more labs, and frequent blood pressure checks. Everything calmed down nicely and I was released with orders for a 24 hour urine collection (TMI, I know) and a very large orange container with lid. I was to bring the container back to the hospital lab the next day (Saturday) at 2:30.
So, I spend the next 24 hours at home with my orange container and the next day, head back to the hospital with the container in a cooler of ice to deliver to the lab.
David drops me off at the main entrance while he goes to park the car. I enter with my little brown cooler full of ice and very full orange container and inform the front desk receptionist that I have a sample to drop off at the lab. She quickly informs me that she doesn't know where the lab is (though I feel like her knowing useful facts like that would make everyone's lives easier) but that she'll call them to let them know I have something for them to come get. She gets on the phone, and wouldn't you know it, there's no answer at the lab. She calls someone else and they inform her that you cannot currently get to the lab from the main hospital entrance and that we'll have to enter through the ER. She then lets us know that we can't get the the ER from where we are either, so we'll have to get back in the car, drive around the corner, and try all of this again! At this point, David has parked the car and found me standing and just a little irritated that apparently the main entrance of the hospital is a joke at this point, because you can't get anywhere from there! So, David takes the little brown cooler and we walk/waddle out of the hospital, into the parking garage, up a set of stairs, and back to the car. We drove around the corner, David drops me off at the ER entrance, and he's off to park the car. I give this receptionist the same information-sample for the lab. She looks very confused, so I break it down further, that it's a 24 hour urine collection and that I was sent there from my OB. She asks: "so you had orders for that?" At this point, my thought was "No. I just found this orange container and thought it would be a fun time to collect all of my urine and bring it by!" But instead, I responded politely "Yes" with a smile. She then tells me to go down the hall, turn right, then left again, and I'd be at the lab.
I texted David that I'd go ahead and drop it off, and meet him back out front because I was just ready to be out of there! Off this very pregnant lady waddles with a little brown cooler and a very full orange container. I come to an intersection separated by elevators, and I don't know which RIGHT turn to make. So there I stand, looking for a sign directing to the lab, and here comes a nurse! I was so excited to see someone who I just KNEW could help me. And she did! She was first concerned of course that I was looking for labor and delivery, but then offered to take me to the lab. She took me down the first right, then we turned left at the 3rd hallway, turned left again, then I was abandoned by my new nurse friend with clear instructions to follow the hallway with no turns to make it to the lab.
Down the hall I meandered with my cooler. I'm pretty sure that I was in construction worker only territory, and got some pretty strange looks, but no advice/direction/help, as I traveled down the winding white and plastic covered hallway that smelled like fishsticks. And then finally, like a beacon of hope, I saw a sign "LAB". There was just one issue, this was real lab. This is not where patients were supposed to be. There was no waiting room. No receptionist behind the class. Not even a bench in the hallway. I was standing amongst closed doors with lights turned off! Now, I realize it was probably just the hormones pumping through my tired, hot, and very pregnant body, but I was ready to cry. The tears were building in my eyes and I was trying my best to blink them away. I heard a door open and shut and heard music coming from it! Not knowing which door down the hall it was, I just stood in the middle of the hallway saying "excuse me!" very loudly until somebody arrived! A kind lady came out and I all but threw my very full orange container at her! "I have a 24 hour urine collection that I need to turn in!" I practically shouted. She very calmly took my little brown cooler, probably concerned that I was some crazy lady off the street and we walked into an office where she took out the orange container, emptied my cooler of ice and water, and told a very official looking lady what I was delivering. The Lady in the Lab Coat looked up over her glasses at me to ask if I had orders. Again, my reaction was to say no, but instead I explained everything once again. She told the Very Nice Lady to take me down the hall and to make sure they had my orders entered into the system. So off we went, VNL and very pregnant Ginnie now carrying an empty little brown cooler. Into the office of Sassy Lady Who Was Mad To Be At Work On Saturday. SLWWMTBAWOS asked me again if we had orders for the urine, and I'm pretty sure she was real close to calling security. At this point, very tired and frustrated Ginnie opens her mouth, and what comes out is a soliloquy! "I went to work on Friday, then to the doctor at 10:00, and I had an ultrasound, and my blood pressure was high, and I had to lie down, and my blood pressure was still high, so I went across the hall to labor and delivery, and I was in triage room 1, and Desiree was my nurse, and my blood pressure got better, and the lab work was fine, and they gave me this orange container and told me to collect my pee for 24 hours and to keep it on ice in a cooler and to bring it here and give it to the lab today at 2:30 and that's what I did!" SLWWMTBAWOS was not impressed. She asked where the orders were. At this point VNL chimed in with "lets look in the computer!" Turns out, they weren't in the computer, but had been printed and were sitting on her desk, as which point I was told I could leave.
So off I went. Meandering down the fishstick hallway, back around a bunch of turns while I followed signs directing me to the right for ER or the left for Main Entrance, and I finally found my dear husband, who had never gotten the text because I didn't have cell phone service!
And that's it. We left the hospital, had a late lunch/early dinner, and drove off to visit friends, with an empty cooler.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-Changes!
This is the 3rd blog post I've attempted to make in the past week or so. I've wanted it to be more than just a bulleted update list, and I haven't really felt like digging into deep, meaningful feelings. I also have no funny stories to share, not that the majority would find funny at least. So, in order to scratch the "blogging itch" I will give an update-I just won't bullet it. Maybe once I begin, thought will flow. ;)
I accepted a job in Columbus last Thursday. It seems strange to be moving home so soon, and we are sad to be leaving Birmingham. We really enjoy it here. Close enough to home to shoot down for a visit, but far enough away to feel like we're on our own.
It's been a tough almost-year together, I mean, we lived in a camper for 4 months, but still enjoyable. Our fist year of marriage is almost gone. We made it (though, admittedly, there were times that it didn't seem like we would make it through the night). It's so true what they say about how being married to someone puts them in a different light. I mean, who in a million years would predict that one day, there would be an argument about dryer lint? No one. That's who. But it happens. You fuss about the dyer lint. And where somebody does or doesn't put their shoes. Trivial things. And it's funnier still, how some days, those trivial things are so endearing. It's almost cute how he always leaves toothpaste in the sink. And other days, it's enough to make you want to rip your (or his) hair out. It's always so much cleared in retrospect that it really wasn't the shoes, or the dryer lint, or the toothpaste. It was something deeper. Something else was wrong, but sometimes, feelings are so hard to name, so hard to pin down, and it's easier to be mad about the trivial thing. The thing that is sometimes cute.
I feel like, come May 22, while we eat our year old cake, we can be happy with all we've done and been through together. Our first year of marriage was not always easy, certainly nothing I'd ever imagine. Did I mention the camper? For 4 months? And how we lived on $100 for a month? And how we couldn't run the microwave and the AC at the same time? (It seems so funny now). And, God bless David, we made it through my last semester of classes, and comps. I assure you, I wasn't so easy to deal with for the months of October-December.
I don't mean to make it sound all bad. Because, by all means, it hasn't been. Those have been our hiccups. Our little glitches in the programming. We've come out of them stronger. Stronger together, and that's what counts. We've learned so much about each other. What we need as individuals and as a single unit in order to thrive. We've learned so much about giving. About giving fully of yourself, and how when you don't do that, when you each give 50%, thinking it will make 100%, you really only feel 50% filled.
And now it seems, we're returning home. I don't mind it. I could have accepted a job in Tallahassee just as easily. We picked Columbus because it's still home. We want to be a part of our niece and nephew's lives, our family's lives. And it will be nice one day to have grandparents close enough to babysit. It's just hard packing up again. And I mean that literally. I've moved at least once, every 9 months, for the past 4 years. Last summer alone I moved 3 times. I also mean that figuratively. The majority of my friends are in this area. I've lived here for 4 years, and I've had the closest friendships of my life here. And I'm so afraid to loose that. I've always been able to make friends quickly. I'm outgoing, giggle easily, and am a bit of a joiner. I won't turn down too many invitations. Keeping friends is where it comes more difficulty for me. I tend to become so absorbed in what's going on where I am, that I don't reach out to those far away. One of my dearest friends lives only 45 minutes from me, and we hardly see each other. This does not bode well for me moving 3 hours from her. So I guess I will just have to keep that in mind. Make a million times extra effort to talk to, and to see, my friends, while making new ones.
I accepted a job in Columbus last Thursday. It seems strange to be moving home so soon, and we are sad to be leaving Birmingham. We really enjoy it here. Close enough to home to shoot down for a visit, but far enough away to feel like we're on our own.
It's been a tough almost-year together, I mean, we lived in a camper for 4 months, but still enjoyable. Our fist year of marriage is almost gone. We made it (though, admittedly, there were times that it didn't seem like we would make it through the night). It's so true what they say about how being married to someone puts them in a different light. I mean, who in a million years would predict that one day, there would be an argument about dryer lint? No one. That's who. But it happens. You fuss about the dyer lint. And where somebody does or doesn't put their shoes. Trivial things. And it's funnier still, how some days, those trivial things are so endearing. It's almost cute how he always leaves toothpaste in the sink. And other days, it's enough to make you want to rip your (or his) hair out. It's always so much cleared in retrospect that it really wasn't the shoes, or the dryer lint, or the toothpaste. It was something deeper. Something else was wrong, but sometimes, feelings are so hard to name, so hard to pin down, and it's easier to be mad about the trivial thing. The thing that is sometimes cute.
I feel like, come May 22, while we eat our year old cake, we can be happy with all we've done and been through together. Our first year of marriage was not always easy, certainly nothing I'd ever imagine. Did I mention the camper? For 4 months? And how we lived on $100 for a month? And how we couldn't run the microwave and the AC at the same time? (It seems so funny now). And, God bless David, we made it through my last semester of classes, and comps. I assure you, I wasn't so easy to deal with for the months of October-December.
I don't mean to make it sound all bad. Because, by all means, it hasn't been. Those have been our hiccups. Our little glitches in the programming. We've come out of them stronger. Stronger together, and that's what counts. We've learned so much about each other. What we need as individuals and as a single unit in order to thrive. We've learned so much about giving. About giving fully of yourself, and how when you don't do that, when you each give 50%, thinking it will make 100%, you really only feel 50% filled.
And now it seems, we're returning home. I don't mind it. I could have accepted a job in Tallahassee just as easily. We picked Columbus because it's still home. We want to be a part of our niece and nephew's lives, our family's lives. And it will be nice one day to have grandparents close enough to babysit. It's just hard packing up again. And I mean that literally. I've moved at least once, every 9 months, for the past 4 years. Last summer alone I moved 3 times. I also mean that figuratively. The majority of my friends are in this area. I've lived here for 4 years, and I've had the closest friendships of my life here. And I'm so afraid to loose that. I've always been able to make friends quickly. I'm outgoing, giggle easily, and am a bit of a joiner. I won't turn down too many invitations. Keeping friends is where it comes more difficulty for me. I tend to become so absorbed in what's going on where I am, that I don't reach out to those far away. One of my dearest friends lives only 45 minutes from me, and we hardly see each other. This does not bode well for me moving 3 hours from her. So I guess I will just have to keep that in mind. Make a million times extra effort to talk to, and to see, my friends, while making new ones.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The waiting game
Well, as any of you who follow me on Twitter know, the all so stressful job hunt has begun.
Birmingham has relatively few options for a gal like myself who just couldn't stomach a nursing home, so I sent my application/resume to everyone else and was rejected quite promptly by most of them. Due to the recession, and the fact that I will be completing my Fellowship year, places just aren't interested.
I have had a few good leads. I'm still in the process of filling out my application for Children's Hospital...I'm on about page 20 now. And I had a follow up interview Friday afternoon at Easter Seals (a not-for-profit therapy and vocational rehab organization working with children through adults with special needs).
I am currently waiting on the call to see if I got the job...or not. I've had my phone glued to my side all day today (per my supervisor's permission) and have literally almost vomited any time I heard a phone ring in my proximity. I mean, I've felt the burn in my throat. Tasted it. It feels a lot like waiting on my acceptance letter into graduate school. Only bigger.
The thing is, since I really only have 2 options in this area, David and I have discussed relocating.
The longer I await the phone call, the more real this possibility becomes. On the one hand, I'm excited about the thought of moving somewhere we've never been, and experiencing that together (Tallahassee, Pensacola, and Savannah respectively-Oh, and Columbus too), but on the other hand. That means David leaving his job so I can have one. And leaving our friends. And just the plain fact of moving again, just a short 9 months after our last move. If this job doesn't work out, then I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do. Where we will end up.
So right now. We're just waiting.
Birmingham has relatively few options for a gal like myself who just couldn't stomach a nursing home, so I sent my application/resume to everyone else and was rejected quite promptly by most of them. Due to the recession, and the fact that I will be completing my Fellowship year, places just aren't interested.
I have had a few good leads. I'm still in the process of filling out my application for Children's Hospital...I'm on about page 20 now. And I had a follow up interview Friday afternoon at Easter Seals (a not-for-profit therapy and vocational rehab organization working with children through adults with special needs).
I am currently waiting on the call to see if I got the job...or not. I've had my phone glued to my side all day today (per my supervisor's permission) and have literally almost vomited any time I heard a phone ring in my proximity. I mean, I've felt the burn in my throat. Tasted it. It feels a lot like waiting on my acceptance letter into graduate school. Only bigger.
The thing is, since I really only have 2 options in this area, David and I have discussed relocating.
The longer I await the phone call, the more real this possibility becomes. On the one hand, I'm excited about the thought of moving somewhere we've never been, and experiencing that together (Tallahassee, Pensacola, and Savannah respectively-Oh, and Columbus too), but on the other hand. That means David leaving his job so I can have one. And leaving our friends. And just the plain fact of moving again, just a short 9 months after our last move. If this job doesn't work out, then I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do. Where we will end up.
So right now. We're just waiting.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
My Heart is Full and Happy
A friend walked back into my life today. A friend, that several months ago, was no longer a friend. Was a painful memory. Memories of my own faults. Of the fragile nature of human relationships.
The memory and tears of our friendship crumbling are still painful. We were both facing difficult times in our lives, and when the breaking point was reached, we took the easy road and we broke. There were tears, and there was anger, and hurt and apologizes and pride that got in the way of every good thing.
But now, thank God, we've seen through the other stuff, seen through the hurt and the anger and the things that were said. We've reached through it all and found the love. The powerful love of a friend. A real friend.
The memory and tears of our friendship crumbling are still painful. We were both facing difficult times in our lives, and when the breaking point was reached, we took the easy road and we broke. There were tears, and there was anger, and hurt and apologizes and pride that got in the way of every good thing.
But now, thank God, we've seen through the other stuff, seen through the hurt and the anger and the things that were said. We've reached through it all and found the love. The powerful love of a friend. A real friend.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The first 8 weeks
Well, I did it. I made it through my first 8 weeks of my internship (okay, I've finished 7 weeks and the 8th is the one I'm on now...). For better understanding, here is a lowdown on how our graduate program works:
1st semester (Fall): 4 classes and 2-3 clients on campus-all kids-you're tired a lot, but doing okay...
2nd semester (spring): 4 classes that are really hard, 2-3 clients on campus-kids and adults, or diagnostics-you're really tired, and beginning to feel the pressure and the stress is building, spring break gets you through, but just barely. everyone is beginning to look frazzled.
3rd semester (Summer): 2 classes that meet everyday for 2 weeks, another 2 classes that meet everyday for 2 weeks, with a weekend in between. Clinic consists of off-campus opportunities, on campus clients and/or diagnostics. You feel like they've started sucking out your soul.
Break! (2 weeks)
4th semester (Fall of 2nd year): 3 classes, on campus clients with off campus clients, or just off campus 3 days a week. COMPS. You feel like they have sucked your soul out and put it through a woodchipper.
5th semester (Spring of your 2nd year): They give your soul back! Two 8 week internships, one at a medical setting and the other at a school. It's a lot of work, but it's fun. And you're finally doing something you love (at least part of the time).
So anyway, I'm about to finish my first 8 week internship. I've been at a High School and I have loved every second of it! I can't wait to start at the outpatient rehab center I will be at next.
It really is just so wonderful to come home in the evenings and have time to relax. Time to clean. To cook. To enjoy being married to a wonderful man. David really was great through it all. He was patient. He put in extra work around the house. He didn't kill me when we both thought I was going crazy. And now that all that is over.
I feel like a different person now. Maybe it's just because it's been a very, very, long time since I haven't had the responsibility of school work. Whatever it is though, I'm glad for it. I love this new feeling. This new me.
1st semester (Fall): 4 classes and 2-3 clients on campus-all kids-you're tired a lot, but doing okay...
2nd semester (spring): 4 classes that are really hard, 2-3 clients on campus-kids and adults, or diagnostics-you're really tired, and beginning to feel the pressure and the stress is building, spring break gets you through, but just barely. everyone is beginning to look frazzled.
3rd semester (Summer): 2 classes that meet everyday for 2 weeks, another 2 classes that meet everyday for 2 weeks, with a weekend in between. Clinic consists of off-campus opportunities, on campus clients and/or diagnostics. You feel like they've started sucking out your soul.
Break! (2 weeks)
4th semester (Fall of 2nd year): 3 classes, on campus clients with off campus clients, or just off campus 3 days a week. COMPS. You feel like they have sucked your soul out and put it through a woodchipper.
5th semester (Spring of your 2nd year): They give your soul back! Two 8 week internships, one at a medical setting and the other at a school. It's a lot of work, but it's fun. And you're finally doing something you love (at least part of the time).
So anyway, I'm about to finish my first 8 week internship. I've been at a High School and I have loved every second of it! I can't wait to start at the outpatient rehab center I will be at next.
It really is just so wonderful to come home in the evenings and have time to relax. Time to clean. To cook. To enjoy being married to a wonderful man. David really was great through it all. He was patient. He put in extra work around the house. He didn't kill me when we both thought I was going crazy. And now that all that is over.
I feel like a different person now. Maybe it's just because it's been a very, very, long time since I haven't had the responsibility of school work. Whatever it is though, I'm glad for it. I love this new feeling. This new me.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Lights and tunnels and such
Well, the moment I have been counting down to is finally here. I have finished the most intense and stressful year and a half of my life. I've finished all the classes, and tests, and assignments. I've completed the coursework for my graduate school career. All that is left is practicum, application of the skills I've learned along the way. Honing my talents, learning new tips and tricks. This next semester I'm sure will fly by. And while I'm so excited about being "finished" at this point, it comes with bittersweet feelings.
I'm leaving the nest so to speak. I'll be without the protection of supervisors who've known me for years. I'll be without those girls with whom I've formed bonds with and leaned on for support over these past 15 months.
While I will miss having that nest to come back to, I know that I'll be fine. More than fine actually. These past months of school have taught me much more than assessment and treatment of various disorders. I've learned just as much about myself. About integrity, and self confidence, and independence. About the importance of "me" time. About separating work and home life and being able to really appreciate relationships and experiences and digging deeper into those things. I have learned, sometimes the hard way, that while independence is important, I cannot always do everything on my own.
I'm excited to welcome this new period of my life and I know that I'm prepared.
I'm leaving the nest so to speak. I'll be without the protection of supervisors who've known me for years. I'll be without those girls with whom I've formed bonds with and leaned on for support over these past 15 months.
While I will miss having that nest to come back to, I know that I'll be fine. More than fine actually. These past months of school have taught me much more than assessment and treatment of various disorders. I've learned just as much about myself. About integrity, and self confidence, and independence. About the importance of "me" time. About separating work and home life and being able to really appreciate relationships and experiences and digging deeper into those things. I have learned, sometimes the hard way, that while independence is important, I cannot always do everything on my own.
I'm excited to welcome this new period of my life and I know that I'm prepared.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
My Comprehensive exams are a week from tomorrow. Really, that's giving too much credit, they're more like a week and 12 hours from right now.
I'm incredibly scared.
You see. These exams are the "make it or break it" period. They cover everything I have ever learned about speech language pathology.
For those of you who don't really know what that means, it's a lot. Let this be an educational moment...cue after-school-special music.
Speech Language Pathology is the study of speech and language.
Also, swallowing.
Also, cognition.
Also, reading.
See-well, except for swallowing-cognition and reading are heavily language based areas.
Speech and Language themselves are not easy areas to learn. Or teach. Or re-teach as it were. I've had to learn development-I'm talking from sperm+egg=baby up through dementia and death. I've had to learn about the brain, what it does, how it does it (if we even know), and why. I've had to learn anatomy from the pelvis up. I've had to learn about other cultures-their take on speech. on language. on folk-lore. I've learned slightly more than basic psychology. Not to mention counseling skills. I've learned how to write a social story, make a picture exchange system, operate a multi-thousand dollar communication device, how to teach a /r/, reading skills (for kids and adults), problem solving skills, social skills, and how to look at someone's vocal folds through endoscopy.
I've taken classes on brain injury, aphasia, dementia, school-age language (that's a large span y'all!), neurology, articulation and phonology (the sounds of speech), cleft palate, syndromes, alternative and augmentative communication, motor speech, dysphagia (swallowing-serious stuff...it'll kill you if we do it wrong!), stuttering, voice, research, and professional issues.
All of this I will be tested on in a week and 12 hours.
I've been studying, and I have a lot more to go. And I'm feeling okay.
No one has technically ever flunked out--though we do get 3 chances, and people have used all 3!
However; it is still weighing heavily on my heart. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and quite frankly I'm a bit grumpy (just ask David).
And the thing is, and this is the kicker, after these 2 DAYS of testing. I still have to take more tests for the classes I'm in now. And write 2 papers. And take finals! All of this (3 tests, 2 papers, and 3 finals) occurs just 4 weeks after comps (and Thanksgiving is supposed to happen in there at some point too)!!!
This is all in addition to clinic (and the paperwork that goes with it) of course.
I'm pretty sure this is there attempt to kill us!
Really.
All that said. Please pray (in that "without ceasing" sort of way if you don't mind too much).
Many thanks.
I'm incredibly scared.
You see. These exams are the "make it or break it" period. They cover everything I have ever learned about speech language pathology.
For those of you who don't really know what that means, it's a lot. Let this be an educational moment...cue after-school-special music.
Speech Language Pathology is the study of speech and language.
Also, swallowing.
Also, cognition.
Also, reading.
See-well, except for swallowing-cognition and reading are heavily language based areas.
Speech and Language themselves are not easy areas to learn. Or teach. Or re-teach as it were. I've had to learn development-I'm talking from sperm+egg=baby up through dementia and death. I've had to learn about the brain, what it does, how it does it (if we even know), and why. I've had to learn anatomy from the pelvis up. I've had to learn about other cultures-their take on speech. on language. on folk-lore. I've learned slightly more than basic psychology. Not to mention counseling skills. I've learned how to write a social story, make a picture exchange system, operate a multi-thousand dollar communication device, how to teach a /r/, reading skills (for kids and adults), problem solving skills, social skills, and how to look at someone's vocal folds through endoscopy.
I've taken classes on brain injury, aphasia, dementia, school-age language (that's a large span y'all!), neurology, articulation and phonology (the sounds of speech), cleft palate, syndromes, alternative and augmentative communication, motor speech, dysphagia (swallowing-serious stuff...it'll kill you if we do it wrong!), stuttering, voice, research, and professional issues.
All of this I will be tested on in a week and 12 hours.
I've been studying, and I have a lot more to go. And I'm feeling okay.
No one has technically ever flunked out--though we do get 3 chances, and people have used all 3!
However; it is still weighing heavily on my heart. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and quite frankly I'm a bit grumpy (just ask David).
And the thing is, and this is the kicker, after these 2 DAYS of testing. I still have to take more tests for the classes I'm in now. And write 2 papers. And take finals! All of this (3 tests, 2 papers, and 3 finals) occurs just 4 weeks after comps (and Thanksgiving is supposed to happen in there at some point too)!!!
This is all in addition to clinic (and the paperwork that goes with it) of course.
I'm pretty sure this is there attempt to kill us!
Really.
All that said. Please pray (in that "without ceasing" sort of way if you don't mind too much).
Many thanks.
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