Wednesday, May 14, 2008

The Meat Truck Men

I was just awoken from a nap by one of those Meat Truck Men...the ones who have a cooler in the back of the truck and then drive around the neighborhood acting as if they "Only have a few steaks left that I really need to get rid of-- I'll give them to you for a really good price. I'm practically giving these away to unload the truck."

Who ever thought this was a good idea? Who actually is willing to trust some random truck driving around to sell something better than Quality F meat? And you know, the men on these trucks are always well-put together, clean shaven, and wearing clean, crisp uniforms with a trustworthy appearance and a great sales-pitch....cough *sarcasm*

These aren't the Swanson men--and even then, I mean really, do we not live in a country where there's a SuperWalmart within 30 miles of EVERYWHERE? It's called a GROCERY STORE people!

Ok, I'm starting to sound a little worked up. Maybe this concept of driving around is just a leftover from a simpler time, where the iceman delivered the ice, the milkman delivered the milk, and the meat man delivers the meat (ha ha). I think I'd personally rather have a toilet paper and milk man coming by my house--- I'd probably be buying every time!

Friday, May 9, 2008

Motion Proves Life

So it's been a while. Now I'm procrastinating doing some more reading this morning--what better way than to blog!

I've got to write about this patient that I had at the VA though--and how church the next Sunday made me think about him again.

So, there's this guy who came in for something totally unrelated, but when we were going through his medical history, part of which includes history of transfusions, his wife goes, "Oh yeah, I'm sure you had some transfusions in Germany, right?" And then she proceeds to say that....

He was in a car wreck and "The coroner found a pulse."

I immediately respond with, "The coroner? Was he in the morgue?!"

They respond, "Yes, he was pronounced DEAD at the scene, was taken to the MORGUE, and then the coroner found a pulse on him--then he went to the hospital."

The patient: "Yeah, I didn't know who I was for about 11 days."

Just like that, matter of fact, they didn't seem too impressed by the whole thing, but geeze, how many people can say that they've met somebody who took a trip to the morgue in a body bag and then survived to tell the tale? CRAZY!

So then, in church, our minister is talking about a passage out of James-- 2:14-26, and about how "Motion Proves Life"--that we have to have both our faith (the part without much motion) and works (the motion part of our Christian life) to prove that we are alive in our faith, alive in the promises that God has given us. Proof of life is the guarantee that death has not occurred, and motion is usually the proof of life needed.

My patient was motionless (almost) and then his heart was able to say, "Wait, I'm still moving! I'm still alive!"

I've felt alot of times that I'm like that patient as far as my faith and works go. I feel like there's barely anything there, and I'm in the morgue, but then somebody may come around and at least check for a pulse--and feel a faint one. I'm glad there's a faint one there, but I know that a faint pulse doesn't usually last too long on its own. I want to show that I'm alive, and I hope that I do. I spend alot of time on the morgue slab of school though.

Lesson Learned--Check for a pulse (maybe multiple times). Patients have weird stories to tell us, usually stories completely unrelated to what they're being treated for currently. Look for opportunities for those stories to connect to some real-life things

What it's worth--It's worth is in being reminded that I shouldn't just merely let a faint pulse just get me by.