thejunipertree (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thejunipertree) wrote2006-11-02 05:52 pm
thejunipertree) wrote2006-11-02 05:52 pm
Entry tags:
ever the mighty shall fall
Ok, even I have my short-comings when it comes to being strong-stomached. I can handle a lot of things, most of them things that your average girl would run screaming from. But, the things that tend to make me gag and shrink away are usually pretty freaking bad.
That being said, this past weekend, I had travelled to Erie for my job. Many of you already know this. I was to go up there, recruit an entire staff because we fired every last one of those useless tits, and help out with seeing patients. I was unaware that the "help out with seeing patients" part of the show was going to involve me performing what we call "doing room".
"Doing room" is assisting during procedures and while I am fairly ace at this, it's not exactly something I look forward to doing ever again.
Especially after the second trimester I assisted in (16 weeker). I won't go into the gory details, largely because I am very tired right now and want nothing more than to go home and pass out face first onto my couch with Baby, but I WILL say that it was probably one of the more vomitous things I've ever witnessed. Giagantor blood clots, plopping and scraping sounds that I can't get out of my head, the patient's nails digging into my hand (ok, not vomitous, but I felt so fucking bad for this poor wee girl, she was in an incredible amount of pain and I couldn't do anything for her but hold her hand and talk to her), and the fetal remains in the gross tissue examination room.
I've seen larger fetuses, like the 22 weeker I was introduced to two years ago. But, that one was whole. Not in bits form. And certainly not wiggly.
Later that night, I ordered dinner from a local Chinese place. Spicy shredded pork soup with cabbage. Yom yom. Except for the whole me being unable to even look at the shredded pork. And the Engineer laughing his ass off at me over it the whole time. I opened the container, saw the pork floating in the soup and straight-up gagged. I couldn't even try to put it in my mouth.
It was just too...fetal bits-like. I couldn't handle it and thusly, had to pick every single shred of pork out of my soup before I could consume it. And even then, I still felt a bit queasy.
Don't get me wrong, this doesn't signal an upcoming foray into the wild world of self-righteous vegetarianism on behalf of the fetuses. Not by any means. It's just basically an indication that I probably have a problem with eating meat that resembles fetus bits.
So be it. Goodbye, spicy shredded pork soup with cabbage! I'll miss you!
That being said, the Engineer's cadaver drawing excursion last night resulted in HIM not being able to eat his hoagie for dinner! Ha! Ha! I say!
That being said, this past weekend, I had travelled to Erie for my job. Many of you already know this. I was to go up there, recruit an entire staff because we fired every last one of those useless tits, and help out with seeing patients. I was unaware that the "help out with seeing patients" part of the show was going to involve me performing what we call "doing room".
"Doing room" is assisting during procedures and while I am fairly ace at this, it's not exactly something I look forward to doing ever again.
Especially after the second trimester I assisted in (16 weeker). I won't go into the gory details, largely because I am very tired right now and want nothing more than to go home and pass out face first onto my couch with Baby, but I WILL say that it was probably one of the more vomitous things I've ever witnessed. Giagantor blood clots, plopping and scraping sounds that I can't get out of my head, the patient's nails digging into my hand (ok, not vomitous, but I felt so fucking bad for this poor wee girl, she was in an incredible amount of pain and I couldn't do anything for her but hold her hand and talk to her), and the fetal remains in the gross tissue examination room.
I've seen larger fetuses, like the 22 weeker I was introduced to two years ago. But, that one was whole. Not in bits form. And certainly not wiggly.
Later that night, I ordered dinner from a local Chinese place. Spicy shredded pork soup with cabbage. Yom yom. Except for the whole me being unable to even look at the shredded pork. And the Engineer laughing his ass off at me over it the whole time. I opened the container, saw the pork floating in the soup and straight-up gagged. I couldn't even try to put it in my mouth.
It was just too...fetal bits-like. I couldn't handle it and thusly, had to pick every single shred of pork out of my soup before I could consume it. And even then, I still felt a bit queasy.
Don't get me wrong, this doesn't signal an upcoming foray into the wild world of self-righteous vegetarianism on behalf of the fetuses. Not by any means. It's just basically an indication that I probably have a problem with eating meat that resembles fetus bits.
So be it. Goodbye, spicy shredded pork soup with cabbage! I'll miss you!
That being said, the Engineer's cadaver drawing excursion last night resulted in HIM not being able to eat his hoagie for dinner! Ha! Ha! I say!
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