The beautiful language of medicine

One of my favourite words is delapidated.  Love it.  The middle bit especialy: diLAPIdated
I'm being introduced to a whole new world of beautiful words.  My current favourite is anastamoses: a-NASS-tah-moe-sees, plural of anastamosis, an alternate vessel pathway in the case of a blockage, a safety mechanism of sorts.

Favourite phrases, not for their beauty but for their memorability, include natural killer cells (this must be said in an Arnie voice), mucus escalator (gross-sounding but protective and important, and the mental image I get immediately is hilarious) and neural tangles (microscopic sign of Alzheimer's.)  Actually, neural tangles is quite a lovely phrase and would make a good book, band or blog name.

I'm on clinical placement at the moment.  Two weeks at a community welfare organisation to make up the 80 hours of practical I need to pass Mental Health Nursing.  I chose a community placement over an acute hospital placement.  I'd say that of the 32 hours I've done so far, only about four of them have been useful, but oh well, there's not much I can do.  The good bits have been sitting in with the doctors, including one Dr Ian Webster who despite being on very high level boards for mental health, lecturing as an emeritus Prof, and advising government on everything to do with suicide and addiction, still comes in to volunteer once a week.  He could be arrogant or inapproachable but in fact he is the opposite. His patients here are mostly homeless and many have a strong reliance on drugs or alcohol to get through the day.  He treats them all with dignity and kindness.  I feel so lucky to have been able to watch him see patients.  The bad bits are the endless sitting around doing nothing because they're hideously understaffed and the one welfare worker is running around doing a million things, the realisation that some people just won't ever get off the drugs/alcohol, and the knowledge that people can have the best hopes and intentions for improving their situation but that the system cannot support them.   I have another week there, and then it's off to an aged care facility for two weeks to fulfill my 'Nursing Care of the Older Person' practical hours.  I predict many nappy changes and showers.

I will leave you with this picture of polka-dotted boots and autumn leaves:

 

and of a vibrant surprise hiding down an alley: