Snip, Snip, Snip…Chop.


Dear fellow viewers of my permanent thoughts,

I have advised a brilliant and somewhat smart plan that I think I should take into account as of next Monday. Why Monday, I hear you ask and the reason is because it is Thursday today and nearing the end of the week, so therefore it is not a smart move to start a weekly plan of action. Also that reminds me, I have two weeks to update my school diary as to what my action plan of attacking the books that are still to be written up along with this new coming week.

As to that, I have started to become obsessed with 2014 diaries. I don’t know why but I just am. I think it’s because I look at the pretty burgundy, suede look alike I lug around with me when I on campus and at home and I think at the end of the school year; it will need to be put in its resting place. The poor thing is filled to the brim with pages and little notes that I have typed/hand written to myself over the past months, reminding myself that I am indeed still crazy but determined to eventually get somewhere in my life.

So along with that, here are the rules that I/You/We are going to follow next week:-

Rule #1: Put on really loud music.

– Whether it be in the car, on your lunch break or sitting behind the desk, staring out and wondering what life is like; we are going to put on those headphones because no one else wants to be listing to The Wiggles (?) or Black Sabbath and we are going to relax for a few minutes. If necessary: REPEAT THE SONG!

Rule #2: My mother has been going through the boxes of late and since we as a family are moving to two different locations, we have been sorting things as to what we want and no longer want.  
 – This means that if you are cleaning out your cupboards to get that jump on Spring Cleaning and you have no idea what to do with it: Go and find a refuge centre for abused women/men that have to had leave their things behind after escaping from their partner and donate it to that centre. It may help someone start up a brand new house for themselves and for their children. Or better yet, donate it to charity.

Rule #3: For a whole entire day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep, we are going to smile at everyone we see. Including your reflection.
– It has been proven that smiling can decrease the possibility of having a stroke but also the smiling bug is contagious as it can be spread from one person to another. Also in case it hasn’t clicked, there may be someone in this world having a shit day and wanting to jump off a bridge. So spending 20 seconds of your day smiling at them, may have just changed their outlook on life. Does “Moneyball” have a standing affect on your memory and what Brad Pittdid for that Gentleman?

Rule #4: Speak kind words about that work mate that you contemplate wanting to stab in the eyes.
– Okay, I know they frustrate the living shit out of you and when you get home, you just want to let it all out. Here’s to hoping that taking the time to sort your issue out with them may solve some unspoken animosity between you two or if there is a promotion going: Hello new you, in your VIP room and not said cubicle with the photo of New York as your desktop screensaver. You may wish to thank me one day.

Finally: if you see someone whether it be an adult or a child with a disability, do not discriminate.
 – They didn’t have the choice of being “special” or a little bit more “unique” then you and I. Go up to them and be kind and don’t stare at the parent’s like “why, did you keep it?” That will get their back up and think what an arrogant arsehole you are, which clearly if you think things like that; then you are a arrogant arsehole who needs to be shown what the real world is like. And for Lord’s sake, if your child/children are invited to a little 4 year olds birthday party: attend the darn thing rather then not showing up at all and hurting the parent and child’s feelings.

That is the rules we are going to do for the next week and if you have noticed: there is one each day for five days as I thought you might need a weekend off as you probably might need to “recover”. And yes, the last rule is very important to me as you probably might/might not have been able to tell. Just remember: how would you feel if you invited 24 little boys and girls to attend your child’s party and none showed? You would be pretty much devastated and hurt by the lack of thought that those adults have.

In regards to adults and me being surrounded by them 24/7, the last few weeks have been pretty busy. 

After posting my last blog posting, I knew well and definitely that my holiday of relaxing, catching up on sleep and trying to maintain a life without appearing to be bored; has well and truly left the building. However I do say, compared to last semester, the teachers have seemed to become a bit more normal in their outlook as to what the students may be feeling. Especially with the Veggies staring at the teachers like they are talking in a foreign language and resemble Martians.

My period of tardiness, thanks to the roads that have now become a permanent feature in my life and the thought of four hours in a car makes my blood boil has become a new feature in my life. No matter how early I am leaving in the morning to attend my 8 am tutes (who was the moron who did this semesters timetable? Oh, that was me!), I feel like any day I am going to have to be up by three to leave the house by five. Not that it takes me two hours to slap on some clothes (when the mood is right), some make up and brush my teeth. 

It more likely takes an hour and a half. Just joking!

It is more like forty minutes including: shower, dressing, breakfast, coffee, make up, hair, brushing teeth, shoes and running out door. From my the doorstep of my house to the moment I skid into my class, it takes me on average 2 hours each day I have to be on campus.

Last time I counted there was a total number of 12 stop and go’s and traffic lights that we seem to spend a total of 10 minutes at each one, waiting for the double bogeys and road trains to hit your stationary car with bits of rock, dirt, clumps of cow shit or better yet, pee.

These are the mornings that I love most since the person with the button or pole, realizes that he/she has a shit load of highly agitated people wanting to move and decides to press the button as we all start to look like we are going to run them down any minute.

That moment of cool, calm and collected-ness has certainly been out of the door for a while now.

I almost miss that nice, smiling and happy me and instead the psycho bitch has returned from last semester. Expect this time she is not breaking down into tears as she is now screaming at her computer and informing the lecturer who cannot hear her: “You fucking suck at your job. I cannot fucking (spell check, just offered the word: Fuck) understand what the fuck you are talking about!”

Clearly in this case, people need not sit here and say: “You are so like your mother.” No in fact you should be sitting there say: “Wow, how many F bombs can you drop into a single sentence Scarlett? Oh, you’re so your Father”.

Just talking about that is starting to annoy me beyond a doubt. Oh the good news is: If I have do summer schooling because I failed BIO, thanks to not understanding the difference between a toe bone and an elbow… Or rather a thigh to an ankle; then I won’t have to listen to the lectures because I already have notes. Just need to basically focus on what is in the textbook if all fails me. Hello six hundred and ninety-eight pages of really boring, err I mean fun and entertaining writing. 

Kill me now!

I have to admit, I am still in love with the Veggies. Always have and always will be. I feel like sometimes, taking them under my wing and introducing the innocent little ones that walk around campus in really big packs, a bottle or three of vodka and showing them a good time. Talking about fun, have been thinking about putting a wonderful ad in the Toowoomba Chronicle in regards to something that I have been dreaming about. And thought I should share it with you:

Nursing Home Wanted.

Former party rebel involving home movies and popcorn on Friday nights, is wishing to find accommodation in a well defined Nursing Aged Care home. Has found since starting University, is juggling time between being an adult, daughter, girlfriend and part-time worker and needs to be helped in regards to daily planning of life and therefore social activities. Either a bedroom or apartment would be most appreciated and be allowed to have cats, even though the bitch doesn’t particularly care for me. If available in any retirement villages located in Toowoomba would be most appreciated. Here are my contact details.

Definitely think that is going to be a major hit in the local paper and that I will have replies straight away. However in regards to the Veggies and their cuteness that I am sure will rub off sometime within the next fortnight, I am merely annoyed slightly about how they have been able to jump ship and do BIO straight away rather than having to do NSC with Bernadette. That has stumped me and bores a small hole in the back of emptiness of my head whenever I see them. 

Which reminds me, I should probably tell you all the things that I have been able to cut up, mutilate, inhale disgusting smells, look at, touch and make joke of in my labs for BIO (Human Anatomy and Physiology). So in case you are eating and haven’t done any of this since I know some of my readers aren’t nursing students or don’t work in the medical side of things, I suggest you put down that lovely sandwhich and bear in mind that what I am going to tell you is positively disturbing and yet highly awesome.

Doctor: Nurse, scalpel.

Nurse: *hands Doctor a chainsaw*

Lab One:

Week one was a week that was the most positively thrilling and yet disgusting at the same time. I got to count down the seconds before something landed on my little tray that contained a mouldy like substance but I was anticipating/dreading the thought of having to cut something up. I bravely took a pair of surgical scissors, which I was highly disappointed about because I wanted a damn scalpel, and cut a rat up. 

So following what my lab book stated, which was to cut the rat from the lower extremities to mid neck, I took a deep breath and began to “randomly” cut. It wasn’t until I asked lab assistance if I was cutting the right section that I was told I was cutting off the rat’s penis.

Yeap, I am a penis cutter.

Ladies, if your husbands or any male is pissing you off: Come and see me!

I was not only mortified because this rat had been alive not even five minutes ago, in a cage with its other male counterparts and had been gassed for me to cut up in part of my learning, but I was essentially cutting of its dick. I was de-manning the rat and its glory of “Hey, I have major testicles and a really tiny little dick.” As my mother said today when I was discussing men and prostitutes because they appear to me like they (men) can yell out anything without repercussions, that all guys didn’t have tiny dicks when in fact they were all built like stallions.

Sorry Ladies as I know I have given away the secret of the sisters but you cannot tell me, Guys haven’t figured it out yet? Like C’mon.

Now back to the rat and the lab assistant. While the lab assistant was trying to keep a straight face before taking the scissors off me, all I can say to that is: not only had it been killed in a space of 20 seconds. But combine this factor with a very nervous lab student and snip, snip, snip, chop the rat would have no longer been a male. 

Yes, laugh all you want. 

Lab Two:

I watched my friend Vin, cut up a lamb shank and was able to see the different workings of how such an amazing piece of flesh could move under a force of pressure. Not only did it have different colours since some of the muscles were darker red then other areas which were lighter in colour, but I got to feel the Synovial joint fluid.

Which have to admit, on the texture of my glove was warm and sticky. That was before the little butcher in me came alive and I started to bone the shank of lamb with a scalpel. This then seemed to take it to a whole new level of cool and to be honest, my Dad would have been impressed with the precision and angles I used to remove the meat with a scalpel blade.

No butchering knives for me, oh no.

However I did get a few looks from the teacher and lab assistants that were walking around the lab, when they noticed a bone and the muscles lying neatly around it in the dish. With me examining all of the different textures of the muscles and bone. 

Lab Three:

My friend Ange cut into a lambs brain, which I have to admit was pretty small but then it had been stuck in formaldehyde so therefore had a pretty gross smell to it. I taught myself how to draw a cloud brain in a space of five seconds which was supposed to resemble a brain. Until I had to actually spend more than five seconds labelling said cloud brain. By that stage, I had to eventually redraw the brain so then the correct labels would be pointing at the correct areas rather than a place where the eye is meant to go for instance.

Lab Four:

Lab Four was all about the heart and the four areas of the heart. I got to cut up a heart of a cow (I think) yesterday to see the different atriums and valves, along with the blood cells that had congealed. To be honest if it had been a human heart than it would have been more of an impact. But don’t get me wrong, it was interesting sticking my gloved finger through the left atrium and seeing it come out of one of the artery.

But if it had been a human’s heart, it would not have only made me respect the person for donating his/her heart for medical purposes (not that I didn’t have respect for the cow or bull) but it made me more determined to study to a higher degree. 

Which leads me to the various amount of people, who have been asking over the past few weeks as they’ve been wanting to know what field I plan on studying in and becoming a permanent feature in. And I have been thinking about it since the first time of being asked because “where do I essentially want to take my talent (yes I do have a talent!)?” Is it going to oncology, A&E, ortho, mental, aged care?

But then I do have a few ideas of where I would like to end up and therefore specialising in and I realised that all of them are around Women’s Health.

In regards to Women’s Health, there are many different levels of teaching and studying that takes place to understand point five of a percent of what women around the world experience on a daily basis. The main question that I keep on asking myself on a daily basis is: What are you, experiencing in regards to health and what can I do, to make your stay in a hospital or home setting that little more comfortable?

I want to be in a field that has different cases on a daily basis as it shall keep me looking in textbooks for different answers for questions that need to be asked. Patients that come from a wide background. Not to mention, I was asked by Lois, my Mother, why I wanted to specialise in that area and it is simple. 

I am a female who suffers from endometriosis and therefore finds menstruation to be incredibly painful. With that pain, I had been to hospital most of my life asking if there could be something down and with being told by gyno after gyno, doctor after doctor that the choices I have are: to take the oral pill daily to help elevate some of the symptoms that is experienced and that I can defer my period if I wish to. Or the second route is to have children, however it is not guaranteed that this will help at all and in fact it can make severely worse.

The thought of children at the age of fifteen, well not only would I have started young and would have lived up the reputation that I seemed to have at the time with the small redneck town I live in. But I think it would have made the pathway that I had chosen for myself not available. And to me, I would have become like everyone else, wishing and hoping and turning out to be a: “I’m going, I’m going, I’ma never gonna never do” person.

Also with endometriosis and family history, I face a higher chance of having miscarriages when I find I am ready to have children since there really is never a right time to start having children. Cervical cancers as well as hystos’ are at a higher percentage in the women of my family because of cancer cells being discovered in the uterus.

If there is some way that I can possibly make someone’s pain that little bit less, rubbing someone’s back or understanding the symptoms they are presenting rather than giving them a number and telling them “the only option is to have children” than that little feedback can help someone a long way. This right here is the reason why I am interested in working in Women’s Health. No ifs, buts or bloody maybes.

And after I complete this degree and live up to being Nurse Scarlett for a couple of years and I feel like I wish to broaden even more with my knowledge, then I am going to become a doctor. To me, I can than not only understand what a nurse is experiencing when talking to a doctor about the symptoms of his/her patient but also so then I can use that understanding and relate it back to what I think as a doctor.

To me, it is like a two way street and for some reason, I like the idea of being an OBGYN.

Because where I live in this little town I call of a redneck place, the only that thing that resembles an OBGYN is either a two hour drive away to the nearest metropolitan city (Toowoomba) or it is a forty minute drive to a small town where the doctor is well, I have to say it: shit. I attended an appointment with a friend and left the clinic wondering if she had gotten her degree for the cornflakes packet. And considering where I live and it not being classified the outback, I hate to think what service outback Queensland and the Aboriginal communities are facing. 

I do apologise for this being extremely long, compared to what it normally is like; but then a lot of things have been on my mind of late.

Until next time,



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