Crazy ER Stories: Parasite or Paranoia?
Some ER stories are just as sad as they are funny. One such lady came to the ER this week.
Her visit began with dramatics—she couldn’t even finish checking in with the secretary before exclaiming, “I can’t take it anymore, I just have to go lie down!” She walked away without even giving the rest of her information.
When Brandon found her, she was sprawled out on a bench in the waiting room. These benches are dirty. Just think about the number of sick people who pass through the ER on any given day, sneezing, bleeding, and vomiting in the waiting room. Most people do not want to nap on the benches. He knew that this patient was either really sick or really dramatic.
Brandon escorted the patient and her young son to the ER room, where she ignored the bed completely and collapsed in a recliner with an exaggerated sigh.
“What seems to be the problem today?” Brandon asked.
“I’m very, very sick and I need to have some tests ran. I’ve been sick since January.”
“Okay,” Brandon nodded. “Can you tell me more about your symptoms? What’s going on?”
“Oh, I have lots of symptoms. I have lots of things going on. But I’m not going to give you any details.”
“Well, I really need for you to give me some details if you want for us to help you. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong.”
The woman became hysterical. “Let’s just say that I’ve been sick for one week! Write that down! Write down that I’ve had diarrhea for one week!”
Brandon took a deep breath, praying for patience. “Okay, have you been sick since January or only for the past week?”
“I don’t want to give you any details! Just write down one week!”
“Okay. Do you have any stomach pain with your diarrhea?”
“No! It’s a parasite, okay? I have a parasite!”
“What makes you think you have a parasite?”
“Because I travel a lot, and I eat a lot of raw fish, and I looked it up on the internet!”
It’s almost always a bad sign when a patient has been researching something on the internet.
“Have you seen your regular doctor recently?” Brandon asked.
“Yes! I’ve been to the ER 2 or 3 times, and they always tell me they can’t help me, that I have to go see my regular doctor. So I go to my regular doctor, but he tells me that I don’t have a parasite! But he must have been running the wrong tests. That’s why I don’t want to give you any details, because I know it’s a parasite, and I don’t want you running other tests. I just want you to run the test that will say I have a parasite!”
Thankfully for Brandon, the doctor walked in at that moment. Brandon shot the physician a meaningful glance, to let her know that this was going to be a tough patient. The doctor quickly read through Brandon’s notes.
“Why did you tell Brandon that you’ve been sick since January, but to only write down that you’ve been sick for one week?”
The patient rolled her eyes. “Because I don’t want to give you too many details. If I give you too many details, you might not believe me. I’m just going to keep them to myself. I have a parasite. I looked it up on the internet. I either have hookworms, or pinworms, or maybe even ringworm or a tapeworm. I don’t know which one. I just know that I have a parasite. I can feel it in my back, and sometimes I get a rash on my legs!”
“Have you been tested for parasites?”
“Yes, but the tests were wrong.”
“Well, you don’t really have the symptoms of a parasite. A parasite will normally irritate your anus, and give you anal itching.”
“But instead of that, I have a rash on my legs.”
“But a rash on your legs isn’t the same thing, it’s just a rash. It’s not the same symptom. I’m more than happy to run some tests on you, to try to figure out what’s wrong. But I really don’t think it’s a parasite, and that’s a test that you would need to have ran at your regular doctor’s office anyway.”
At this point, the patient’s little boy interrupted the conversation. “Mommy, I’m feeling really sick too. When am I going to get to see the doctor?”
“Not until Mommy’s well! Mommy’s sick, and we have to get me well first!” the patient replied, before returning her attention to the physician. “There, there’s my son. Just take him! I can’t take care of him anymore. I’m too sick. This parasite is just sucking the life from me. Just take him. I’m tired of taking care of him!”
“Guess what?” the doctor replied. “That is your son. He is your responsibility. He’s not some disposable pet you can just get rid of whenever you feel like it. And believe it or not, I can’t just take your son. So you need to pull yourself together and start taking care of him! Now, I’m going to run some tests on you, and I will try to help you get better.”
Brandon and the doctor left the room before the patient had the chance to reply. Brandon’s shift was over, so he didn’t get to see how things turned out with the patient and her son.
Personally, I would have sent the patient for a psych eval. This situation sends off all kinds of red flags in my mind. More than anything, I hope that the little boy is okay. I can’t even imagine what he must have felt, sitting in that hospital room, hearing his mother try to give him away.
It’s a sad story for everyone involved. I hope both mother and son got the help they need.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Leaving
In her latest column for National Geographic Traveler, Daisann McLane describes the difficulty of leaving a place that you've connected with, a place that's become familiar. I can relate to this. Our travel destinations aren't simply a week long vacation spot to us. They become our home, for months at a time. We arrive, knowing virtually nothing about the area. We have to find the good grocery stores, restaurants, and shopping. We get to know a new set of people and their unique cultural traits. Brandon has to adjust to a new hospital, new charge nurses, new managers, and new patients. As soon as we start feeling comfortable, it's time to leave again.
Some places have been hard to leave. I actually broke down in tears when we left Montana-- and not a day has passed without me wanting to go back.
Thankfully, we do not feel that way about Pennsylvania. We've had three good months here. We've really enjoyed the sightseeing, and we've made some great memories. But we are not connected to York. It's not that York is a bad place. . . it just doesn't offer anything for us. It's as congested as a large city, but it doesn't offer any of the perks of city life. The restaurants and shopping are more on par with a small town, but it doesn't offer any of the privacy of country life. Even the nearby Appalachian Trail is crowded. There's nowhere to go when we just want to get away from people (something that is pretty important for an ER nurse who deals with the public at their worst).
So, I won't cry when we drive away from York. It's been a good assignment for us, but it's time to move on.
Some places have been hard to leave. I actually broke down in tears when we left Montana-- and not a day has passed without me wanting to go back.
Thankfully, we do not feel that way about Pennsylvania. We've had three good months here. We've really enjoyed the sightseeing, and we've made some great memories. But we are not connected to York. It's not that York is a bad place. . . it just doesn't offer anything for us. It's as congested as a large city, but it doesn't offer any of the perks of city life. The restaurants and shopping are more on par with a small town, but it doesn't offer any of the privacy of country life. Even the nearby Appalachian Trail is crowded. There's nowhere to go when we just want to get away from people (something that is pretty important for an ER nurse who deals with the public at their worst).
So, I won't cry when we drive away from York. It's been a good assignment for us, but it's time to move on.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Crazy ER Stories: Deviant Behavior
Believe it or not, not all ER patients are actually sick. Some of them are seeking drugs, some of them are seeking attention, and some of them. . . well, some of them have more deviant intentions.
One such patient showed up at the ER last night. He came in for "shortness of breath" and was assigned to a female nurse in the unit. When the nurse went to check on him, he told her that he needed for her to give him a catheter.
Since his ER complaint had nothing to do with urination, the nurse assumed he had a disability that required him to cath regularly. So she asked him, "Do you usually self cath?"
"What?" he answered.
"At home, do you normally cath yourself?"
"Um, no," he replied.
"Then how do you urinate? Do you have someone else do it?"
"Oh, no, I just pee at home."
The nurse was a little confused. "Then why do you need for me to cath you?"
"Um, I'm just having a hard time peeing."
The nurse left the patient and found Brandon and the doctor and described the situation. "I think he might be a pervert," she explained.
The doctor told her to do a bladder scan to see if he was even holding urine. Brandon caught her as she was about to leave. "Hey, if he does need a cath, come find me. I'll do it."
The scan came back showing that he did have urine in his bladder, so the doctor okay'd the procedure. As promised, Brandon took over.
"Hi, my name is Brandon, and I'm here to insert your catheter," he announced as he walked into the patient's room.
"What??" The man was shocked.
"Your catheter, the one you told your nurse that you need. I'm here to insert it."
I'm sure you can predict the punchline-- when the man saw that another man was going to do the procedure, he miraculously recovered his ability to urinate naturally.
When Brandon helped the man pull his pants down to pee, he saw that the man was wearing a leopard print thong. I guess he had even dressed for his nurse.
Brandon gave him some privacy to do his business. When he returned, he found the man back in bed, butt naked, with all the blankets shoved in the floor. Some people just never give up.
One such patient showed up at the ER last night. He came in for "shortness of breath" and was assigned to a female nurse in the unit. When the nurse went to check on him, he told her that he needed for her to give him a catheter.
Since his ER complaint had nothing to do with urination, the nurse assumed he had a disability that required him to cath regularly. So she asked him, "Do you usually self cath?"
"What?" he answered.
"At home, do you normally cath yourself?"
"Um, no," he replied.
"Then how do you urinate? Do you have someone else do it?"
"Oh, no, I just pee at home."
The nurse was a little confused. "Then why do you need for me to cath you?"
"Um, I'm just having a hard time peeing."
The nurse left the patient and found Brandon and the doctor and described the situation. "I think he might be a pervert," she explained.
The doctor told her to do a bladder scan to see if he was even holding urine. Brandon caught her as she was about to leave. "Hey, if he does need a cath, come find me. I'll do it."
The scan came back showing that he did have urine in his bladder, so the doctor okay'd the procedure. As promised, Brandon took over.
"Hi, my name is Brandon, and I'm here to insert your catheter," he announced as he walked into the patient's room.
"What??" The man was shocked.
"Your catheter, the one you told your nurse that you need. I'm here to insert it."
I'm sure you can predict the punchline-- when the man saw that another man was going to do the procedure, he miraculously recovered his ability to urinate naturally.
When Brandon helped the man pull his pants down to pee, he saw that the man was wearing a leopard print thong. I guess he had even dressed for his nurse.
Brandon gave him some privacy to do his business. When he returned, he found the man back in bed, butt naked, with all the blankets shoved in the floor. Some people just never give up.
International Health Care and Nursing Blogs
The Practical Nurse just named Adventures in Travel Nursing as one of the Top 50 International Health Care and Nursing blogs. Check out their article for links to other websites that address travel nursing and global healthcare issues.
Thank you, to The Practical Nurse for including Adventures in Travel Nursing. We are honored to be on a list that includes so many wonderful resources.
Thank you, to The Practical Nurse for including Adventures in Travel Nursing. We are honored to be on a list that includes so many wonderful resources.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Forgotten Side of Travel Nursing-- Paperwork and Preparation
Preparing for a new travel assignment has something in common with giving birth-- you suffer through an intensely painful process, which you quickly forget when you hit the road for your assignment. You forget it so quickly that you sign up for it again, remember how horrible it is, vow to never go through it again. . . and the cycle continues.
I guarantee that Brandon and I make it harder than we have to, but we are both firstborns, and that's just how we roll. We don't want to just throw everything in the car and hit the road without a plan. We like to have a plan.
So we have 16 days to complete the following to do lists:
Brandon
My list isn't bad at all. It's pretty standard, and I have 16 days to do it, which is wonderful. Normally we don't find out where we're going until the last minute.
But Brandon's list is awful. I try to take care of any paperwork that I can, to ease his burden. But there's so much that I can't do. I can't work his shifts, I can't take his tests, I can't complete his orientation.
There was a ton of paperwork for our first travel assignment. The company said it would get better for the next one, because they would save everything. But, we switched to a different company, and Brandon had to redo everything. Our current company said that after that first assignment, they would save everything and Brandon would only have to sign three sheets of paper each time. Right. Trust me, it has never worked out that way. Every hospital wants something new. Brandon always has to take tests, pass competency screenings, get new certifications, and get drug tested. All of this on top of trying to move to another state, and finish out his remaining shifts (which always seem to get worst at the end). Depending on the location of the assignment, he sometimes has to get a license for that state, which requires background checks, fingerprints, and paperwork. Plus, he has to keep up with the requirements for all of those licenses and certifications each year-- CEU's, refresher classes, tests, etc.
Did I mention that Brandon doesn't get paid for any of this time?
Oh, to not go through this again!
I guarantee that Brandon and I make it harder than we have to, but we are both firstborns, and that's just how we roll. We don't want to just throw everything in the car and hit the road without a plan. We like to have a plan.
So we have 16 days to complete the following to do lists:
Brandon
- Work 9 12 hour shifts (108 hours).
- Complete an 8 page medication test.
- Complete a 2 hour online orientation for his new hospital.
- Sign and fax contracts, timesheets, benefits forms, etc.
- Drug testing.
- Physical.
- Complete a skills checklist.
- Sort through his clothes to decide what to send back home and what to take to Wisconsin.
- Pack apartment.
- Ship winter clothes home.
- Arrange a vet visit for Fiona.
- Arrange our move out date and apartment inspection.
- Cancel our cable and internet, return equipment.
- Scrub apartment.
- Plan driving route, book hotels, print driving directions.
- Arrange lawn mowing services, etc.
- Have mail forwarded to Wisconsin, from both our PA and AR addresses.
- Oil change.
- Tires rotated.
- Clean and vacuum our car.
- Arrange move in date for Wisconsin.
- Keep up with all my normal day to day tasks-- laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, etc.
My list isn't bad at all. It's pretty standard, and I have 16 days to do it, which is wonderful. Normally we don't find out where we're going until the last minute.
But Brandon's list is awful. I try to take care of any paperwork that I can, to ease his burden. But there's so much that I can't do. I can't work his shifts, I can't take his tests, I can't complete his orientation.
There was a ton of paperwork for our first travel assignment. The company said it would get better for the next one, because they would save everything. But, we switched to a different company, and Brandon had to redo everything. Our current company said that after that first assignment, they would save everything and Brandon would only have to sign three sheets of paper each time. Right. Trust me, it has never worked out that way. Every hospital wants something new. Brandon always has to take tests, pass competency screenings, get new certifications, and get drug tested. All of this on top of trying to move to another state, and finish out his remaining shifts (which always seem to get worst at the end). Depending on the location of the assignment, he sometimes has to get a license for that state, which requires background checks, fingerprints, and paperwork. Plus, he has to keep up with the requirements for all of those licenses and certifications each year-- CEU's, refresher classes, tests, etc.
Did I mention that Brandon doesn't get paid for any of this time?
Oh, to not go through this again!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Vote for Brandon!
Brandon has submitted two nursing t-shirt designs for a Nurses Week 2010 contest. You can vote for his designs by going here. His designs are "by bthornton."
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Moving Forward
Well, it looks like we are heading back to Wisconsin!
Long time blog followers will remember that we spent 5 months in Wisconsin in 2008. It was our second travel assignment, and we really enjoyed it. More than any other place we've been, it felt like "home" (except for Montana, which felt like home in a completely different way).
Brandon accepted an offer with a hospital on Lake Michigan. Different hospital, different area than we were before, but I think it's going to be a great fit. There will be several other travelers in the ER, so we are hoping to have a circle of friends there who understand the traveling lifestyle. Plus, it will be wonderful to be on the lake all summer-- it's not exactly the ocean, but it's pretty close. We'll have sandy beaches, boating, and even scuba diving if we are up for the challenge.
Wisconsin's state motto happens to be "Forward," which is fitting for where we are in life right now. We are coming up on the 2 year anniversary of our first travel assignment, and we said from the beginning that we were only going to do it for two years. Now we're trying to figure out what's next for us. Will we commit to traveling another year? Will Brandon join the Air Force? Will we sell our house and move somewhere permanently? Will I go to graduate school?
We are ready to move forward in life. We hope that during our time in Wisconsin, we will figure out exactly what our next move is.
So, Wisconsin, here we come!
Long time blog followers will remember that we spent 5 months in Wisconsin in 2008. It was our second travel assignment, and we really enjoyed it. More than any other place we've been, it felt like "home" (except for Montana, which felt like home in a completely different way).
Brandon accepted an offer with a hospital on Lake Michigan. Different hospital, different area than we were before, but I think it's going to be a great fit. There will be several other travelers in the ER, so we are hoping to have a circle of friends there who understand the traveling lifestyle. Plus, it will be wonderful to be on the lake all summer-- it's not exactly the ocean, but it's pretty close. We'll have sandy beaches, boating, and even scuba diving if we are up for the challenge.
Wisconsin's state motto happens to be "Forward," which is fitting for where we are in life right now. We are coming up on the 2 year anniversary of our first travel assignment, and we said from the beginning that we were only going to do it for two years. Now we're trying to figure out what's next for us. Will we commit to traveling another year? Will Brandon join the Air Force? Will we sell our house and move somewhere permanently? Will I go to graduate school?
We are ready to move forward in life. We hope that during our time in Wisconsin, we will figure out exactly what our next move is.
So, Wisconsin, here we come!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Take a Ride on the Reading!
All male passengers must assist crew in shoveling snow or pushing if necessary. Keep heads and arms inside windows in case of Indian attacks.
Those were just a few of the rules listed on our tickets for the Strasburg Rail Road, a historic rail dating back to 1831. The train is now a popular tourist destination. We chose the train as our way of seeing Amish Country, and we were not disappointed!
The train runs from Strasburg to Paradise, PA, through Amish farmland. The Amish houses were much more modern than I expected. I never would have known they were Amish, had I not spied the clothes on the clotheslines.
The train itself was absolutely beautiful. Rather than try to describe it, I'll let the picture speak for itself.
We were in the coach section. I can't imagine how pretty the first class section must have been!
After the train ride, we visited The Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania. I've never really been interested in trains, but I have to say that the museum was spectacular. I love museums that show you something real, instead of trying to tell the story through pictures. This museum was definitely real. It was full of trains, real trains that you could touch and experience.
We had an absolutely wonderful time in Strasburg!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Hershey's Chocolate World
Compared to York, Harrisburg, and the Poconos, Hershey is absolutely beautiful. It's clean and well manicured. It's the only town we've seen in PA that isn't littered. It has ponds with ducks, pretty buildings, and a beautiful view of the Pennsylvania hills. The roads are lined with Hershey's Kisses streetlights, and you can purchase chocolate pretty much everywhere. Talk about my kind of place!
We visited Hershey's Chocolate World. The moment we walked in, we were nearly overcome by the aroma of chocolate. Chocolate was EVERYWHERE. It was heavenly. Brandon swears he got a little buzzed just from the smell.
We took the (free!) "tour ride" which is kind of like a small scale Disney ride. You begin by walking through a "rainforest" where cocoa beans grow, then wait in line to board the ride in an area painted like a shipyard. They even have ocean sound effects overhead. Between that and the still strong smell of chocolate, we really were excited about the ride!
The ride has a little bit of everything. It's informative, yet fun for kids. It shows the entire chocolate making process, including the machines that wrap all the different kinds of Hershey's candy.
At the end of the tour, we were given a free sample of Hershey's chocolate-- which was a very good thing, because by that point, we were dying for chocolate.
After that, we hit the Hershey's store. It was a fun store to browse. They had the typical tourist items-- t-shirts, sweatshirts, coffeemugs, etc. But they also had some really interesting items, like chocolate spa sets, Hershey's jewelry, and of course, every kind of chocolate you could possibly imagine.
I think I could live in Chocolate World. . .
Friday, April 9, 2010
Poconos Getaway: The Appalachian Trail
We weren't equipped to do any serious hiking, so we took two short walks on the trail-- one in New Jersey, one in Pennsylvania.
The trail is much more beautiful in New Jersey. The mountains feel bigger, the trail feels easier, and the scenery is better. I've never heard anyone say anything good about the AT in Pennsylvania. In PA, the trail is rocky and a bit boring, to be quite honest.
Our walks were just a tiny taste of what the AT has to offer, and it only made us more excited about doing some real hiking again.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Poconos Getaway: Day 2, Part 4
After our fabulous pizza and tiramisu, we returned to the resort and arrived just in time for another bonfire with s'mores. This time, the fire pit was surrounded by people. Most people ate one or two s'mores then cleared out, leaving us with:
The Appalachian Trail guy
A strange woman who ate two entire bags of marshmallows-- but only after turning them to ashes.
A guy from the Bronx who fit the stereotype exactly-- the accent, the gold chains around his neck, the tattoos.
The couple from the room adjoined to ours.
It was a strange group, no doubt, but we got along surprisingly well. The marshmallow lady left when the treats were gone, but the rest of us spent hours chatting around the fire. It was especially nice to get to know the couple that we already "knew" from hearing them all weekend. Being able to laugh with them about the situation made the lack of privacy much more comfortable.
Skiing, amazing pizza, and a fun bonfire-- day 2 in the Poconos was pretty much perfect.
The Appalachian Trail guy
A strange woman who ate two entire bags of marshmallows-- but only after turning them to ashes.
A guy from the Bronx who fit the stereotype exactly-- the accent, the gold chains around his neck, the tattoos.
The couple from the room adjoined to ours.
It was a strange group, no doubt, but we got along surprisingly well. The marshmallow lady left when the treats were gone, but the rest of us spent hours chatting around the fire. It was especially nice to get to know the couple that we already "knew" from hearing them all weekend. Being able to laugh with them about the situation made the lack of privacy much more comfortable.
Skiing, amazing pizza, and a fun bonfire-- day 2 in the Poconos was pretty much perfect.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Poconos Getaway: Day 2, Part 3
After a long day of skiing, Brandon and I were starving. We decided we couldn't wait for late night reservations at a nice restaurant, so we decided to gamble on a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria.
The restaurant didn't look special. It was small, a little too warm, and in desperate need of a paint job. But the pizza? That was a different story.
The first thing we noticed was that the man making the pizza was a true Italian. He talked to himself the entire time he cooked. If you've ever watched Buddy on "The Cake Boss" you will understand what I mean. This man was a perfectionist about his pizza. If something wasn't perfect, we all knew it: "This dough isa too mushy! It'sa no gooda!" He would throw everything out and start over until he was satisfied it was just right. In the meantime, his wife would squabble with him in Italian.
A customer came in and asked for a meat pizza. The chef said, "Yesa, I've got the meat. Whata meat do you want? I got the chicken, I got the sausage, I got the salami, I got the pepperoni, I got whatever kind of meat you want. You just tell me what you want, and I make it."
The customer ordered, left, then came back to pick up his pizza. It wasn't ready yet, which made the customer angry. The chef just fired back at him, "You sit! It will be ready when it'sa ready."
Trust me, the pizza was worth the wait. Our pizza was the best pizza I've ever had in my entire life-- fresh hand-tossed dough, with from scratch marinara, real cheese, pepperoni, and onions sauteed in garlic and olive oil. It was nothing like American pizza. The quality and flavor was unbelievable.
We had to shake the chef's hand after our meal.
"Where you from?" he asked.
"Arkansas," Brandon replied.
"You don't have no pizza like this in Arkansas!" he laughed. "I grew up making pizza in Italy, then I move to New York and make it there, now I make it here. Always the same. The same taste as fifty years ago in Italy. I don't use no sugar, I make it all myself. Always the same."
We finished our meal with tiramisu, made fresh daily by his wife. It was almost as heavenly as the pizza.
My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
The restaurant didn't look special. It was small, a little too warm, and in desperate need of a paint job. But the pizza? That was a different story.
The first thing we noticed was that the man making the pizza was a true Italian. He talked to himself the entire time he cooked. If you've ever watched Buddy on "The Cake Boss" you will understand what I mean. This man was a perfectionist about his pizza. If something wasn't perfect, we all knew it: "This dough isa too mushy! It'sa no gooda!" He would throw everything out and start over until he was satisfied it was just right. In the meantime, his wife would squabble with him in Italian.
A customer came in and asked for a meat pizza. The chef said, "Yesa, I've got the meat. Whata meat do you want? I got the chicken, I got the sausage, I got the salami, I got the pepperoni, I got whatever kind of meat you want. You just tell me what you want, and I make it."
The customer ordered, left, then came back to pick up his pizza. It wasn't ready yet, which made the customer angry. The chef just fired back at him, "You sit! It will be ready when it'sa ready."
Trust me, the pizza was worth the wait. Our pizza was the best pizza I've ever had in my entire life-- fresh hand-tossed dough, with from scratch marinara, real cheese, pepperoni, and onions sauteed in garlic and olive oil. It was nothing like American pizza. The quality and flavor was unbelievable.
We had to shake the chef's hand after our meal.
"Where you from?" he asked.
"Arkansas," Brandon replied.
"You don't have no pizza like this in Arkansas!" he laughed. "I grew up making pizza in Italy, then I move to New York and make it there, now I make it here. Always the same. The same taste as fifty years ago in Italy. I don't use no sugar, I make it all myself. Always the same."
We finished our meal with tiramisu, made fresh daily by his wife. It was almost as heavenly as the pizza.
My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Poconos Getaway: Day 2, Part 2
Prior to arriving at the ski resort (and seeing Mr. Faux Pro crash down the bunny slope), I wasn't nervous about the actual skiing. I'm fantastic at the skiing and snowboarding on my WiiFit. I steer my way through the red and blue poles in record time, never losing my balance. How much harder could it be in real life? I expected to soar through my ski class, hit the bunny slope once or twice, then head up to the big trails by noon.
(If you've ever been skiing, I'm sure you are laughing at me right now. That's okay. I admit it, I was delusional.)
I was considerably more nervous after watching Mr. Faux Pro and others struggle with the bunny trail, but I still thought it would be different for me and Brandon. We weren't just heading up the mountain with unfamiliar equipment-- we were paying a professional to teach us to ski! Surely we would be different.
Well, pride goes before the fall, and my first fall happened before I even had on both skis.
There were four of us in the ski class, me and Brandon and one other couple. The other couple was as clueless we were. Not only had they never skied, the woman had never seen snow. She showed up for class in skin tight designer jeans and a dressy sweater (not exactly appropriate athletic gear, but still infinitely better than the middle age guy we saw earlier who wore baggy jeans without a belt... and without underwear, as we discovered when he stood directly in front of us and went through his stretching routine).
Our ski instructor was an Abercrombie kind of guy-- thin, super tan, blonde highlights, and designer sunglasses. He wasn't enthusiastic about his job at all. He obviously loved to ski, but hated wasting his time with beginners like us. The other instructors were warm and friendly, laughing and cutting up with their students. Ours was all business. No laughing allowed.
Before he let us put on both skis, he told us to just put on one and slide around the training area, to get used to the feel of the snow. I thought this was great fun, and kept going faster and faster... until I lost control and fell hard, cutting my hand in the process.
Next, our instructor let us put on both skis, and we got to take turns practicing on a flat area of snow. The other girl was the second to fall, and that was enough for her to quit the class. Thankfully, Brandon and I managed to hold our own on the flat surface.
We then moved to a small hill. Our instructions were to take turns skiing halfway down the hill, then stop and sidestep back up to the starting point. Brandon was first to go. He took off very quickly, skied to the halfway point... and kept going. And going. And going. He quickly realized that he didn't know how to stop! Needless to say, he was the third to fall (although he still claims he did it on purpose to avoid hitting a little girl).
I finished out the class by falling again, and then we hit the slopes for real. Amazingly, we never fell when we were on our own. I won't say we looked good. Brandon never got the hang of stopping, and my WiiFit form (knees bent, weight forward, poles behind me) apparently looked pretty silly on the wimpy slopes we were skiing. But we stayed upright, and actually had a great time.
And let me tell you, after a hard day of skiing, the resort's hot tub was absolute heaven.
(If you've ever been skiing, I'm sure you are laughing at me right now. That's okay. I admit it, I was delusional.)
I was considerably more nervous after watching Mr. Faux Pro and others struggle with the bunny trail, but I still thought it would be different for me and Brandon. We weren't just heading up the mountain with unfamiliar equipment-- we were paying a professional to teach us to ski! Surely we would be different.
Well, pride goes before the fall, and my first fall happened before I even had on both skis.
There were four of us in the ski class, me and Brandon and one other couple. The other couple was as clueless we were. Not only had they never skied, the woman had never seen snow. She showed up for class in skin tight designer jeans and a dressy sweater (not exactly appropriate athletic gear, but still infinitely better than the middle age guy we saw earlier who wore baggy jeans without a belt... and without underwear, as we discovered when he stood directly in front of us and went through his stretching routine).
Our ski instructor was an Abercrombie kind of guy-- thin, super tan, blonde highlights, and designer sunglasses. He wasn't enthusiastic about his job at all. He obviously loved to ski, but hated wasting his time with beginners like us. The other instructors were warm and friendly, laughing and cutting up with their students. Ours was all business. No laughing allowed.
Before he let us put on both skis, he told us to just put on one and slide around the training area, to get used to the feel of the snow. I thought this was great fun, and kept going faster and faster... until I lost control and fell hard, cutting my hand in the process.
Next, our instructor let us put on both skis, and we got to take turns practicing on a flat area of snow. The other girl was the second to fall, and that was enough for her to quit the class. Thankfully, Brandon and I managed to hold our own on the flat surface.
We then moved to a small hill. Our instructions were to take turns skiing halfway down the hill, then stop and sidestep back up to the starting point. Brandon was first to go. He took off very quickly, skied to the halfway point... and kept going. And going. And going. He quickly realized that he didn't know how to stop! Needless to say, he was the third to fall (although he still claims he did it on purpose to avoid hitting a little girl).
I finished out the class by falling again, and then we hit the slopes for real. Amazingly, we never fell when we were on our own. I won't say we looked good. Brandon never got the hang of stopping, and my WiiFit form (knees bent, weight forward, poles behind me) apparently looked pretty silly on the wimpy slopes we were skiing. But we stayed upright, and actually had a great time.
And let me tell you, after a hard day of skiing, the resort's hot tub was absolute heaven.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Poconos Getaway: Day 2, Part 1
I frequently mention our "Travel To Do List." This is a list that Brandon and I made on our very first travel assignment. It's sort of a "bucket list" of things we want to do before we finish travel nursing. It has places we want to see, places we want to live, activities we want to try, foods we want to taste-- everything.
One of the items on our list was skiing, and we thought that the Poconos would be the perfect place to fulfill that wish. The Poconos is full of ski resorts, but the skiing is much tamer than, say, Colorado. The hills are smaller, the drops are shorter, and the weather is more predictable.
We were a bit intimidated arriving at the resort. Everyone else was decked out in expensive ski suits, with matching goggles and their own skis or snowboards. One guy in particular caught our eye. He looked like a pro. I recognized the label on his equipment-- we had visited some sporting gear stores before our trip, and I had tried on a jacket in that brand. The jacket alone had been $400, the pants had been $200 (obviously, I didn't buy them-- I stuck with my $20 snowpants from Burlington Coat Factory).
As I watched that guy head toward the slopes with his board slung over his shoulder, I started getting nervous. He looked so professional and confident. We had never been on skis. What were we doing??
We rented equipment, wrestled with our ski boots, and plodded out to a picnic table by the bunny slopes. Our class didn't start for an hour, but there wasn't really anything else for us to do-- we didn't even know how to put on our skis.
When we sat down, we noticed that the guy in the expensive ski suit was coming off the lift at the top of the bunny slope. I thought it was a bit odd that someone with such nice gear was starting on the easiest trail at the resort, but I figured he just wanted to warm up before hitting the mountain. But as we watched him attempt to snowboard down the slope, it became apparent that he was just as much of a beginner as we were. It took him a full seven minutes to get down the hill, because he couldn't make it more than two feet without falling. He fell. And fell. And fell. And fell.
I didn't want to make fun of him, because I knew we would probably be in the same boat when our class started. But I couldn't help it, I could NOT stop laughing. I wish I would have been carrying a video camera, because I think it would have won the $10,000 on AFV. Here was a grown man, wearing ridiculously expensive, professional ski gear, falling down a hill while 3 year old children skied circles around him, pointing and laughing. It was priceless.
When he finally made it to the bottom, he trudged over to our picnic table and sat down with us. "I think I have a concussion," he muttered. "I can't wait for the bar to open." That was the last time we saw him on the slopes. He sat at the picnic table for two hours until the bar opened, then he spent the rest of the day drinking and trying to convince women that he was a snowboarder.
The old adage proves true-- you can't judge a book by the cover.
To be continued...
One of the items on our list was skiing, and we thought that the Poconos would be the perfect place to fulfill that wish. The Poconos is full of ski resorts, but the skiing is much tamer than, say, Colorado. The hills are smaller, the drops are shorter, and the weather is more predictable.
We were a bit intimidated arriving at the resort. Everyone else was decked out in expensive ski suits, with matching goggles and their own skis or snowboards. One guy in particular caught our eye. He looked like a pro. I recognized the label on his equipment-- we had visited some sporting gear stores before our trip, and I had tried on a jacket in that brand. The jacket alone had been $400, the pants had been $200 (obviously, I didn't buy them-- I stuck with my $20 snowpants from Burlington Coat Factory).
As I watched that guy head toward the slopes with his board slung over his shoulder, I started getting nervous. He looked so professional and confident. We had never been on skis. What were we doing??
We rented equipment, wrestled with our ski boots, and plodded out to a picnic table by the bunny slopes. Our class didn't start for an hour, but there wasn't really anything else for us to do-- we didn't even know how to put on our skis.
When we sat down, we noticed that the guy in the expensive ski suit was coming off the lift at the top of the bunny slope. I thought it was a bit odd that someone with such nice gear was starting on the easiest trail at the resort, but I figured he just wanted to warm up before hitting the mountain. But as we watched him attempt to snowboard down the slope, it became apparent that he was just as much of a beginner as we were. It took him a full seven minutes to get down the hill, because he couldn't make it more than two feet without falling. He fell. And fell. And fell. And fell.
I didn't want to make fun of him, because I knew we would probably be in the same boat when our class started. But I couldn't help it, I could NOT stop laughing. I wish I would have been carrying a video camera, because I think it would have won the $10,000 on AFV. Here was a grown man, wearing ridiculously expensive, professional ski gear, falling down a hill while 3 year old children skied circles around him, pointing and laughing. It was priceless.
When he finally made it to the bottom, he trudged over to our picnic table and sat down with us. "I think I have a concussion," he muttered. "I can't wait for the bar to open." That was the last time we saw him on the slopes. He sat at the picnic table for two hours until the bar opened, then he spent the rest of the day drinking and trying to convince women that he was a snowboarder.
The old adage proves true-- you can't judge a book by the cover.
To be continued...
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