Gross Encounters of The Loogie Kind

I expected to go out with a bang, but it was more like a mild, quickly fading wimper. Considering this was our last week in the Memorial Hospital ICU, clinicals were fairly uneventful. But on second thought, I may have spoken too quickly. As I reevaluate the day's events, Monday was anything but ordinary.

The day began with a Divine wakeup call, literally! We certainly are not living in the time of the antediluvians, but here in Tennessee, one would never be able to tell the difference. We would be wise to just gather some goofer bark and build an ark! As fate would have it, Thatcher Hatchery lost power at approximately 3:00 AM, cutting off my alarm clock. But God smiled down on this little chickadee and woke me up naturally, 10 minutes before the alarm was supposed to startle me into a partially conscious state.

4:30 AM. Time to don my gay apparel. Stumbling around in the dark, I managed to get dressed and make myself presentable, although by the looks of the forecast I was just wasting my time. By this time I was wide-eyed and bushy tailed, which was fortunate for me because I needed to fetch Wanda from Thatcher South. Thus, I trudged out into the downpour armed with my umbrella, which really proved to be useless unless my name is Mary Poppins. Fighting the wind, I was finally able to relocate Wanda to Thatcher parking lot. Now the only thing left to do was wait till 5:35 AM when I would again head out into the deluge.

Struggling to keep myself awake I sat in the lobby waiting for a fellow classmate who was to catch a ride with me to the hospital. Tick tock, tick tock. I glanced at the face of my watch. Time to go. Other classmates made their way to the lobby, signed out, and left. Frustrated, I called my passenger's cell phone. No answer. Plan B. I called her room phone. A sleepy voice picked up on the other end. My reminder sent her into shock, which was quickly proceeded by the slam of the receiver. 5 minutes. 10 minutes passed and still no passenger. The tick of my watch became louder, acting as a constant reminder of my anal retentive tendencies toward being on time. Finally the side door flung open and my passenger was ready to embark on our journey through flooded side streets and flashing lightning.

6:15 AM I illegally parked in the hospital parking garage and rushed into the lobby, just as pre-conference was starting. The remainder of the morning consisted of paperwork and even a little play in the poo-nanny (please contact me personally so I may relate this experience to you). 3:00 PM I climbed back into Wanda, passenger on time, and headed for home.

Still raining steadily, I scaled the 3 flights of stairs to my room. Feeling like a half drowned rat I proceeded to take off my ergonomically designed nursing shoes, but froze as something caught my eye. Lifting the shoe closer to my face, it was all I could do to not throw it across the room. A loogie, quite fresh, just parked out on the side of my shoe! Now, you must understand that there is almost nothing that grosses me out. I am never surprised to find the occasional bandaid on the bottom of my shoe, but this? More then the actual presence of the mucus is the consideration of how it got there. Darn wall suction just put the icing on the cake of my day. Pardon the illustration.