Some of you may already know that I was in nursing school at one point during my quest to decide what I really wanted to do in life.
It was an expensive little detour. Please make your donations payable to Iowa Student Loan.
It was while I was attending nursing school and working at the hospital that I started dating Ted. (Please note- this is not Love Story Part II. That is still in the works.)
Around that same time, I started to realize a few things:
1. I really don't like human blood very much.
2. There are some instances in which two pairs of gloves just aren't enough of a barrier for me.
3. I do not enjoy working the night shift. I absolutely cannot function nocturnally.
4. There are much, much worse things in this world than changing adult diapers. Much worse. If you want to know details, we'll talk privately. This is a family show.
And can I just say, you really haven't lived until you find yourself in up to your elbows in.... Never mind. I told myself I wouldn't go there on an empty stomach.
By the way, I'm thinking of writing a book titled, "You really haven't lived if..." Sounds like a best-seller, eh?
Meanwhile, Ted and I had been on several dates, and I found myself fascinated by some of the classes he was taking at Iowa State. Suddenly I realized that there were even better things in life than studying graphic photos of internal parasites and trying to escape the kisses of the old men I had to sponge-bathe.
It wasn't long before I was enrolling for my next semester at Iowa State. Sight unseen, of course, because that's how I roll. I always have been a little bit on the impulsive side. I'm still trying to decide if it's a blessing or a curse.
That Fall, I found myself in a nice little apartment that I shared with three other girls, two of whom I had never met. I learned several life lessons in
that arena, too. I wasn't meant to live with other females. I need cleanliness and lots of personal space. And I don't like to share things. And some people don't like it when you pick up after them and leave it in a pile in their rooms, or write nasty notes about the piles of unwashed dishes (I'll make a very good mother some day).
Anyway, I finally found what I had been missing at ISU. That first week I convinced Ted to take me around campus on his motorcycle, because after all, I had never been there before and had no idea where any of my classes were. Also, I am directionally challenged. That first couple of weeks, when I would call and say I needed to be at Kildee in five minutes, where the flip is it, he would tell me to head towards the north side of campus. Inevitably I would get confused and head south. He always anticipated that and picked me up on the corner, and because motorcycles can go wherever they want on campus (at least that's what he told me), he got me to class on time.
Little did I know that very soon, I would find myself in elbow-length gloves again. One day my animal science professor told us to wear old clothes and boots for class the next day. We got to go out and take a tour of the school's beef teaching farm. This soon turned into my favorite class. Next thing you know, I was on my knees in the mud castrating a calf. The next week I was elbow-deep in the business end of a mama cow. I talked about it for weeks (I felt bad for the cow, though- everyone in class got a turn).
Don't get all indignant. We rotated mama cows. And the little boy cow needed to be castrated. That's just the way of things on the farm.
The week after that, I was holding an ultrasound wand and watching the screen for the tell-tale signs of a calf. Frankly, I was loving every minute of it.
In my swine class, I watched the vet put a sick piglet to sleep, perform an autopsy, and plop the heart into a ziploc that I was holding. The guy holding the bag with the liver hit the ground head first. He didn't live that down the rest of the semester. There I stood, holding a vital organ of an animal that had been breathing just minutes before, and I never had to hold back vomit or try to pinch my nose shut from the inside like I did at the hospital. In fact, I was enjoying myself.
I enjoyed myself in forage management, and I enjoyed myself in agricultural economics. Not really the economics part. Just the SimFarm part, where I got to buy, sell, and trade away all my fake assets (Actually, Ted is the real econ guru in the family). I enjoyed myself in entomology, and in agronomy 212. I didn't so much enjoy myself in my online math class. In fact, I cried. But I'm just trying to forget that part of it. I like all my memories to be golden. I enjoyed myself right up to graduation (except the homework, and early morning classes, and tests- but I'm trying to forget that part- I like all my memories to be golden).
Unfortunately, as it turns out, the government doesn't need anyone to devise a manure management plan in Germany. They don't need any soil samples, or pasture renovations. There aren't any cows to cull, or test plots to be seeded. So every now and then, I think maybe I should have stuck with it and become a nurse. It sure would pay a lot better right now!
Then I recall that God did not equip me to handle humans in various stages of pain, agony, and broken-heartedness. It was more than just my dislike for blood, guts, and unnatural bodily fluids. It would, quite literally, have broken my heart too. That, my friends, is why I'm not a nurse (besides, to love a Soldier, you need your whole heart. Intact).
I graciously decided to leave that noble profession to the more emotionally stable people of the world, and traded it for animals, crops, and fresh air. Fresh air with the exception of the swine farm, where it was decidedly hard to breathe. Ted calls it the "smell of money", and is excited to incorporate it into our lives at the earliest possible convenience. Please promise you will still come over to visit.
Thank you for reading this "barely passes as entertainment" version of my blog. I struggled to come up with a topic today. Now, after thinking about my college years (all five of them) it has become obvious to me that I prefer to learn my lessons the more difficult, most expensive way.
It, um, builds character.
Before I sign off, here's my advice to the younger folks: State schools rock. Stay away from the private schools at all costs, unless of course someone else is paying your entire tuition. You can trust me on this. I tried two private schools before I saw the light. A degree is a degree is a degree, and if you run off and marry a soldier and move to another country, it won't do you any good anyway. I never attended a community college, but if I realized then how much fun it would be to pay off student loans now, I would have given it a shot. Tell all your friends. That's what I'm here for. To educate.
Please note: This photo is courtesy of pioneerwoman.com. I haven't yet figured out how to get inside one of these German cattle barns to get a photo of a calf. Rarely do they let cattle graze outside around here.
Other things we've been up to this week:
Thank you, Mom, for the stockings, and Aunt LuAnn, for "The Christmas Box", which was our centerpiece for the holidays last year and now will probably make an appearance every Christmas. I can't explain it. It's a thing now. So....no tree for us. We'll be in the states anyway, and I'm so not impressed with the tree decorations at the PX. I plan to buy a tree's worth of ornaments on sale after Christmas (not the from the PX...somewhere classy, like Wal-Mart or Target). Someone remind me of that before it's too late (I planned to do it last year too).
Grandma Betts hand-painted this nativity set for us at her ceramics shop and gave it to us as a gift last year. Isn't it beautiful! It even has a little night light to illuminate the stable, but I forgot to buy a bulb. Anyway, I'm willing to bet that I have the best Grandma ever.
Ah, what the heck. I'll go for the off-brand! After all, it has an American taste! Notice that it is also Gut & Gunstig. That means "good and good for you" (okay, we all know that's not what it means, but please....just leave me alone with my delusions). Who knew that American taste is what the Germans are going for? Or do they keep this in stock just for me...? I guess I'll never know. Until I learn German, that is.
