A prick in the bum

Mila and Leslie are learning the ropes at McMurdo Clinic. Leslie said it took 21 seconds to orient to the front desk. I think they’ll be fine. I’m helping out but we are all tripping all over each other. A medical evacuation mission will leave later today. Leslie will go on this trip, she’s hasn’t hardly got her feet wet in Mac Town but she’ll be back pretty quick.

This afternoon, a man came in to get a shot. He’s from New Zealand and tells me that he needs a “prick in the bum” that his doctor at home prescribed. I’ve gotten to know him through Jonathan. He’s a very kind man but can sometimes test anyone’s patience. I’ll try first to paint the picture of his clinic visit. He goes behind the curtain while I prepare his medication. As I walk behind the curtain with the medications he is standing there with his pants open waiting for his ‘prick in the bum’. After I’m completely behind the curtain he turns around so that I’m looking at his behind and at the same time he says (in his soft voice and New Zealand accent) “Now, Tracey go slow and the nurses usually talk to me while they do it”. I can’t help but snicker a bit because I know that Greg is standing on the other side of one of the curtains and I can imagine what this all sounds like. I hear Greg snicker thru the curtain and then I hear Greg say “Tell him he’s pretty!!” Meanwhile, I’m standing there giving his shot and trying my best to hold in my laughter. I know there is no way that I have described this situation to its ultimate potential but know that I am sitting here laughing as I tell it. This kind gentleman also has a way of eating that is not the most enjoyable. The other night I sat next to him and I almost came unglued. We were eating spaghetti that night. He holds his knife and fork much like the British. The fork is held in his left hand upside down and being gripped you would hold a handle bar. The knife is in the opposite hand gripped in the same manner. We are eating spaghetti mind you and he is constantly scraping the knife across the plate to gather up the sauce which he is scooping up along with the noodles onto the BACK of the fork. Just as he gets it all scooped up and after I’ve heard the screech, screech, screech, screech of the knife on the plate he turns to talk to someone and the food falls off his fork!! I look across the table at Jonathan, grit my teeth and point with my eyes to the man’s plate. Jonathan gets exactly what I’m getting at and this has now become his irritation as well! The next time we are eating with him, Jonathan begins scratching his plate with his knife along with him and it was difficult to keep a straight face…so difficult I had to leave the table in laughter. What would I do without someone to talk about?

Jonathan came over to the clinic today as Don and I were playing around on Facebook. Jonathan has not given in to the peer pressure of the Facebook revolution. He begins to ask questions and before you know it, he’s sitting at Don’s computer and Don insists that he join. I walked Jonathan through the process and within minutes…he’s hooked. Just as he signs up, a window pops up and with a request to be added from an old friend. He then puts in his High School and another 50 people pop up; after that, his college and another 50 people. Jonathan is amazed and spends the afternoon smiling and chatting on line with people from everywhere. I think he’s addicted because he left the clinic to get away from it and in about 5 minutes (just enough time to get to the Chapel) he’s back on and chatting with me and probably 3 other people.