can of duster

When I get bored at work, I surf the internet. When I get bored of the internet, I start going through things on my desk, looking to make something better or more convenient. Or just to change it for the heck of it. Often times I find myself with a cold can of duster. You know, the can of air that has a straw connected to the spout to blow particles freely into the air. I was getting antsy at work today, and couldn't sit in my seat any longer. I found my can and began to wonder about the idea behind it. I have come to the conclusion that the can of duster really serves no meaningful purpose except to get me through the last hour of work before the weekend. You get your can and aim it at your keyboard, and dust goes flying any which way. This doesn't solve the problem of dust in the first place. It just sends it to another place on the desk; so now I have to dust this next contaminated spot. Wouldn't it better serve us if it was just the opposite - a can with suction. Think about it. A little can with a tiny straw that sucks up all the dust. I think about this everytime I use this ingenius office product, but really, am I going to stop using the can of office duster? Nope.

brink of death

I trust that there hasn't been a soul is sight who hasn't heard me whine about me being sick. But pretty much all of you who read my blog, whine about me never writing anything new. So, here you have it. You get to read about me being sick. Fair trade. Anyway, it all started around May 14, 2008. I mentioned to my co-worker that I could feel a cough coming on. Which is really weird for me because I don't usually just get a "cough". But as the week progressed, I could tell it wasn't going anywhere. That weekend we went camping to Capitol Reef (look for an upcoming post about that) and my cough continued to get worse. I don't think it was good being around all the campfire smoke, but oh well - this wasn't going to ruin my camping trip. I should mention that it didn't help that those who occupied my same vehicle for this trip (Tara, Sarah, and Mele) were all pretty ill as well. I think we just got each other more sick. So I arrived home on Sunday afternoon with full intentions of going to my friend's mission farewell and then making it back in time to go to my own Sacrament meeting. Did I make it to either? Did I even make it past my parents' family room couch? Nope. I basically crashed on the couch for about four hours. Extreme fatigue had set it. I'm pretty sure I went to bed around 10 PM that night. Which is about three hours earlier than usual. The next day I woke up feeling lousy and really tired, so I texted the lady I work with to see if she would be there to cover my desk. This was her response, "I will be here. But I will be covering Linda's desk." Translation: "You must go to work Tawny." Bummer. So I suffered through a Monday at the OB-GYN clinic with a partial voice. I opted out of going to Micro class that night. I went home and took a nap, and then went to bed around 9 PM. The next day I woke up with even less of a voice and also the beginnings of what I thought to be "pink eye". I called in sick to work. I left a message, and let me tell you, I don't know if I would even understand what I said. That next night, Wednesday, I had Micro class again and decided I better go. I got to class and started taking the quiz. The quiz was on the overhead and he uncovers the questions one at a time. We got to question 8 before I could feel the overwhelming need to cough. I coughed twice, but I felt no relief. I tried holding it in because I didn't want to be one of those kids in class that can't stop coughing or sniffling. But to my great disappointment, holding in the cough only made it worse. Tears started streaming down my face and I thought my insides would implode from a lack of oxygen. I hurried and circled "C" on questions 9 and 10, and ran out the door. I proceeded to cough uncontrollably for the next five minutes straight. This kid in the hall poked his head around and said, "Hey, are you okay?" I muttered in my half-voice, "Yeah, I think so." But really I thought I was going to die. When I finally mustered enough courage to face my classmates again, I ran in the door and grabbed my books and headed home. The next night, I had Micro lab. I was lucky enough to be ill on a day where we were swabbing ourselves for diseases. I volunteered myself for project so I could see what was causing all my grief. We swabbed my nasty throat because I was sure something was growing back there because it was about half its normal size. We also swabbed the inside of my nose. We let the dishes grow over night. At work on Friday, I still sounded pretty bad, so the nurse gave me a Rx for an antibiotic - which I am sure has saved my life. I returned that day to the lab to see what was going down. I checked my plate growing my throat culture, and my germs turned the red plate green. Nasty. I then checked my special MSA (mannitol salt agar) plate. The MSA plates specialize in growing Staph aureus, which is the strain of Staph that is pathogenic (disease causing). If it is positive for S. aureus, it turns the red plate yellow. I pulled out my plate and to my surprise, my nose culture was completely yellow! My classmates were pretty grossed out. I immediately headed to Target to get my Rx filled and to get Echinacea, Zinc, Chloroseptic throat spray, and Ricola throat drops. I was determined at that point to rid myself of this. By Saturday, my lungs were beginning to hurt from the coughing and I made the mistake of mentioning this to my mother, who immediately turned around and told me that I had bronchitis and walking pneumonia, and that I needed to see a Doctor. I assured her that this wasn't a big deal, and that I would heal on my own. But really in the back of my mind, having my mother doubt my condition, only made me more of a worried hypochondriac. Thanks Mom. But I kept positive and got a lot of sleep through the weekend, and I am happy to report that I am almost completely healed. My voice still can't get as high as it once did, and I can't sing yet the way I used to, but I feel a full recovery in the works. All in all I had the following symptoms in the last two weeks: deep chest cough, runny nose, sore throat, "pink eye", inner ear problems, sinus congestion, loss of voice, extreme fatigue, sleep-less nights, lung pains, etc. Normally I'm not a baby when I get sick (HA! That's not true...), but I am usually pretty resilient. When I get a cold, I am usually all better in three days (Thanks to Zicam and AirBorne). I know most of you are saying, "Tawny, please. We already know all of this. How can we forget when you keep reminding us?" My deepest apologies to you all. But, in a way, you asked for it.

One Team. Crushed Dream.

Well, the Jazz season is officially over. While I am not yet able to talk about it freely without getting angry and cursing, I will tell about a few good times from the Playoffs this year.

Here is Tara (aka Tito) and me sporting our Deron Williams t-shirts at one of the Houston Rockets games.

Playoff Mania

Michelle and me

Mele sporting the Jazz sweatband.

And look who I ran into. My long, lost friend Kindi.

I wish I could comment further about the Playoffs, but I get pretty riled up. I am convinced that the NBA is rigged and won't ever let the Jazz win the finals. I also didn't see the last game against the Lakers because I was camping, so it was like I never saw them lose. Denial. It's my favorite way to cope.

microbiology

Summer school. Ugh. I'm kind of sick of people who I haven't seen in a while asking me, "So, what have you been up to?" I give the same, scripted answer over and over again: "Just school and work." I really feel like that is all I do - well, because it is. But anyway, this summer I am taking one class: Microbiology. There is a lecture and lab to this class. My lecture teacher is from Russia (I think), and just goes on in his thick accent about the "yeastie beasties". It's actually pretty funny. But at the same time two things happen in lecture: I either fall asleep or I end up leaving after an hour. It's inevitable. But I actually find the lab portion of class to be pretty fun. I take it from this old man that is incredibly nice. I go to lab two times a week and basically strap on gloves and goggles and play with microorganisms like e coli and staph. Cool - I know. So there you have it. There is my summer update for you. So if you talk to me, that's basically what I'll tell you I'm doing; at least until June 18th.

E coli

Blood Draw

About three summers ago, Nan, Hollie, and myself took a phlebotomy course. It was pretty fun, but I have since lost my awesome skills. So I work for IHC at Legacy OB-GYN and have made some friends in the neighboring clinics, pharmacy, and lab. In the lab I have a friend by the name of Becki. Any of you city softball fans would remember her as our third baseman last summer. Anyway, I was down in the lab chatting with Becki the other day and I was telling her about my blood drawing experience. I related to her that I was pretty scared about being a phlebotomist. She then insisted that I practice on her. I told her I really didn't want to (but slightly in the back of my mind I wanted to see if I could remember how to do it). She won the battle and I proceeded to grab a needle, hub, alcohol pad, vial, cotton ball, gloves, etc. I fastened the tournequette tightly on her arm, sanitized the fleshy area, secured my vein of choice between two fingers, and finally inserted the needle. A small amount of blood traveled through the plastic tubing. I plugged the vial at the end and watched as the blood flowed freely. Victory was mine. So, now I go down to the lab on Monday's, Wednesday's, and Friday's to practice. Last Friday I took a butterfly needle and drew from Becki's hand. I am happy to report that she did not sustain a bruise and you can barely even see a puncture mark. My phlebotomy future is bright.