This afternoon, the marks for one of my nursing courses were posted, positively concluding my time in hell.
image from here
It began with a text from my friend stating that she had just seen the grade for her final exam, and she needed me to say something funny to cheer her up.
My text to her went something to the effect of, “We never have to be distracted by that teacher’s nipples
image from here
And because I’m not very original, I also used that same statement as my status update on Facebook.
As I suspected, the word ‘nipples’ brought about comments from most of my friends who immediately knew who I was talking about, referencing the colour of said Highbeam Lady’s sweater, and offering up the nickname Orangutan Titties as an alternative to Highbeam Lady.
…Oh, and a couple of my single guy friends asked for clarification on the remark about the ‘distracting nipples,’ wanting details as in why, whose, and how big.
The problem with the course was not so much the saluting nips, but the fact that some of the language used to describe body parts was dumbed down lower than the language I use when describing these same body parts to my seven year old.
image from here
Yes, I am guilty of using the word “tits” occasionally (not when referring to my own however. Flat is usually the word of choice for mine), but in a classroom in which I am supposed to be learning the pathophysiology of disease, and other such complicated processes (if I use too many big words you’ll think I’m just a show off, and I wouldn’t want that) but in a classroom setting, how ’bout we stick to breasts, urinating, and fecal matter.
Although funny, and great blog fodder, using the words ‘boobs’ and ‘pee’ in a classroom in which I’m being taught how to save lives, is distracting.
When describing fetor hepaticus, which is a condition seen in those with failing livers in which the breath becomes offensive smelling, it’s troubling to hear, “The patient’s breath will smell like feces.”
Of course, I turn to my classmate, and whisper, “Did she just say the patient’s breath will smell like feces?” to which my classmate, calmly nods, and replies, “Yes. It will smell like shit.”
And because we were willing to do just about anything to do well on our tests, we diligently wrote in our notes: Patient’s breath will smell like shit.
Of course, nowhere on the exam did this even come up!
There was no question stating:
“What is the most prominent feature of a patient with fetor hepaticus?”
a) his teeth are shiny and white
b) he owns a kitten named hepaticat
c) his breath smells like shit
d) all of the above
I don’t think the teachers were bad teachers. I mean clearly I learned. Maybe I learned a little too much: while home sick this past weekend I had myself first convinced that I had pancreatitis, then I was pretty sure I was in the final stages of chronic renal failure.
Turns out it was the runs.
But I think the tone of the semester can best be summed up by our lesson on the spread of the bacteria E.coli from anus to vagina, when the teacher called out, “Remember ladies, if you don’t want a UTI, wipe front to back! Front to back!”
This is what I taught my daughter when she was being potty trained.
I’m just sayin’…