decorticate

What lies on the other side of death?

Is it better to live comfortably doing something that is satisfactory at best, or is it better to live enduring stress, losing years of one's life doing something personally worthwhile?

Hmm. I just had a losing-sight-of-the-big-picture moment. What is the big picture?

Isn't that the question they always wanted us to answer in elementary school? Or a similar question along those lines (what is the main theme, what is the main idea, etc.).

I'm not really sure why I'm having a strenuous time dealing with this situation.

Went volunteering in the ER last night. Had to sit for a transgendered senior citizen from 10 to 11. Although they got her to the correct floor- for a brain mass- they forget to return her dentures and ring with her other belongings. I ended up staring at these plaque-ridden teeth and started wondering how my teeth looked on the inside. Moreover, I turned the denture container so far that the liquid started spilling out of it and touching the ring that was also sealed inside the plastic bag. Whoops.

I also got to meet some more volunteers. New ones. I'm still not sure whether the nurse, a gay gentlemen, is hitting on me or just being nice. Also wasn't sure whether the Asian girl volunteer was flirting with me or not. Anyways, too oblivious to see these things from the get-go.

Another thing I did last night was just deliver a note to one of the helpers down in the ER. This Asian guy named Sam (?) asked me last week about the SATs and how my cousin did so well. Eventually I asked her, but she never really studied for the test and scored over 2200. Or was it 2300? Some ridiculously high score, and now I hear her parents are pushing her towards engineering. My cousin asked her other friends to see what they used to study for the test, and I just relayed that information to him. He seemed really intent on online sources that didn't cost anything, though. Maybe he doesn't earn enough with his current job. More proof that standardized tests benefit the wealthy more.

Once it turned midnight, I started leaving the ER to find some fat lady in pink with who I presumed to be her mother. Being the person who makes so many mistakes, I bothered to ask them if they needed any help. They wanted to get to the 15th floor, where the pregnancy suite was. Ohhhhhh, so that's why her stomach is bloated. I willed myself to escort...

I think the appropriate word I think I'm feeling is marginalized. Well, at the moment anyhow.

Back to story: Started escorting that patient down the hallway, all while she was panicking nonsensically about hemorrhaging or something being wrong with the baby. I offered to hold her purse so that she could pay attention to just her baby and walking to her room. Waiting in the elevator, I was starting to get grossed out when the husband started trying to comfort the wife, kissing each other. Ugh, gross! What you NEED to tell her is to calm her ass down.

What I also don't understand is why they put the baby-delivering (I guess OB/GYN suite?) at the 15th floor, the TOP floor in the hospital! What the hell?! In the end she made it to her room, and I went home to a nice bowl of curry that Yams made for me. MMM! Simple, yet satisfying. Dark chicken meat, carrots, celery, and a brown curry sauce, which I mixed with the rice he also left out for me. SO HAPPY! Was watching Princess and the Frog while eating my late dinner. The movie started out SOOO GOOD when they talked about dreams of opening up a diner. And then it got boring with the love and the romancing bull crap.

Tired of writing. Bon soir!