Sticky Fingers and the Phomite Phenomenon

*Melissa*

I’m a bit of a germaphobe. And I’m realizing that my kind are a bit pampered in the US. The first thought that pops in to most people’s mind at this point is the obvious question of the career I’ve chosen. But forget all about that for a moment.

I enjoy the average day – the same things you do. I go to the gym, I do grocery shopping, I sometimes have no choice but to use a public restroom. I have a job where I use a copy machine, I deal with papers that are passed around through many sets of hands. And, I am unlucky enough to rely solely on public transport.

I have never realized how much I take for granted most of these “daily life” tasks back in the states. The sliding glass doors open for me walk in to the grocery store. A metal stand beckons with the current weeks ad. I grab one, simultaneously retrieving a wet antibacterial wipe from the plastic tub on top of the rack, before fetching a shopping cart or a basket.

Nothing is more nauseating than a bench freeing up at the gym, only to walk over and see a shimmering layer of sweat and oil left behind by the last man’s shoulders/back/chest – or the worst – buttcheeks. Back home I could speedily spray a quick layer of cleaning solvent over them, and wipe it vigorously with a towel before letting my own skin touch the cushion. I find my eyes are furtively pining for those cleaner bottles each time I go to the gym; I have had to buy my own cleansing wipes, and try to use those where I can (don’t even get me started on how black they often are after cleaning the grips on pulley-bars and row machines!)

Even the silly and often frustrating ‘ass-gaskets’ are amiss here, and after sitting in on a frightening conversation with one of the doctor’s, I have found myself returning to my childhood days – where Mum stood outside the stall doors saying “Did you cover the seat with toilet paper?” The doctor had made a valid point – in a country where “superbugs” are rife, and the most common route is transference through the excretive digestive tract - dirty toilet seats are a primary trasmission spot. Gloves, hand sanitizer, gowns: none of those protect you from the toilet seat, and all seems to be forgotten when it comes to the stalls.

To top it all off, I did the one thing germaphobes probably shouldn’t do – I watched ‘Contagion’ – happily bringing the word “phomites” to a broader audience than Professor Gary Zimmerman’s classroom at OIT. I personally recommend that everyone see this movie, if simply to bring awareness to germ transmission among the greater population, but it didn’t do much for this bus-goer, aside from making me cringe to sit in shorts, and create some interesting expressions when the bus-driver takes off before I’ve sat down, forcing me to brace myself by grabbing one of the poles (watch the movie!).

As for that timely question of the career field I’ve chosen – being constantly surrounded by germy things, and interacting with buggy patients daily, being touched by and having to touch: wet things, squishy things, slimy things, sticky things, smelly things, bloody things, rotting things (think diabetic toes) – I prefer to focus on the artistic side of the job. That delicate balance of black and white, the challenge of first-time perfection on every shot, and the excitement and suspension of hearing some of the most bizarre and incredible stories of injuries you could imagine. THAT is why I chose my career field.

And look at it this way: at least in a hospital environment, there is a greater focus on cleanliness, and a wider availability to those oh-so-lovely sanitizing agents, glaring back at you from every angle reminding you to de-bug your hands. After all, I may wash/clean/sanitize my hands and my work surroundings 15-50 times per day… how many times a day do you clean your keyboard, and scrub between your fingers?

Back to the Daily Grind

*Melissa*

It has been nearly two weeks since our return to work. The holidays certainly were lovely – we had a car for a brief moment; we did a bit of exploring the town; we did a bit of traveling; we had a few “first times”. But that is long gone now – no more car: it’s back to the bus; our exploring has come to a halt; it is simply that: Back on that roller coaster ride of “Life as a Foreign Extern”.

Now that we are steadily plowing through the 3^rd quarter of our externship, the dynamic at work has certainly changed. We are in a state of “limbo” – we are students, are we still required to annoy our coworkers to come listen to us identify our patients (or – as some still prefer – identify the patient themselves. Not a great boost of confidence i.e. trust). Yet as the same time, we are there just as often as every other full time employee. We are seen as a radiographer, but we are seen as inferior students. Weare familiar with everything that we are allowed to do – but because we are not allowed to do quite everything, we get met with quite a bit of frustration from nurses and other support staff who see us as employees, and expect us to be able to do/answer everything.

This last bit had been quite the “spot of bother” for me in particular lately. Although the great majority of the “supporting staff” is wonderful and lovely, there are a couple which irritate me to no end. They pretend to not know my name, and never address me – only the other “official” radiographers. Just last week I had one who kept saying “thank you ----“ and using the official tech’s name, even though I was doing the tasks. But I must be the cordial one, and smile, and be polite. When you’re not getting paid it all gets a bit tiring on some afternoons.

We have a special course at school, our “extern prep” course, right before we leave Klamath Falls. We get warned about all the aspects that might come up, and get reminded about all the common sense things:

don’t get involved in gossip, don’t take sides, be on time, show up for work, don’t argue with the techs, etc. And amongst other things we get to question some of the students who are on extern at the time. One of the most common things they mention is how bad it is to not be getting paid.

We have made it over 7 months before starting to really be bothered by this side-effect, but it’s definitely starting to kick in. By far the most frustrating thing about externship thus far, however, is not the missing paycheck (although it is up there – don’t get us wrong!). Chad and I have both

agreed that the most frustrating thing about externship is our lack of independence. It is Flinders student policy that we are not allowed to perform any exams without (as I mentioned above) having another tech there to identify the patient, and then that tech must “complete” that exam when we are done. There is nothing worse than having a bench full of requests, and not being able to do a single one of them because you do not have a chaperone.

The worst thing about the lack of independence, however, is the detriment it has to your confidence. It is incredibly difficult to build confidence in our skills because we are constantly having our positioning and our methods tweaked around a bit (very few radiographers

can watch you do an exam without touching SOMETHING – ANYTHING). So, if we have a new trick we want to try, we rarely get the chance to try it out. Even after completing our “competencies” – proving that we are competent enough to complete a particular exam independently, there are some touchy techs who just won’t let you complete it on your own. This gets to be a real pain, sometimes, as is the most common thing that gets us down.

Outside of work, we are back to the “not much” response to what we’ve been up to. We did manage to make it out to the “Schutzenfest”, though. Adelaide’s “biggest international festival” – and what is compared to a mini-Oktoberfest. I figured since we missed the Greek festival, we might as well go to the German one; have a Kransky and pint, see some German stuff.

Boy! Let me tell you about Australia’s festivals: LOTS of people, drinking A LOT, and sitting around on the grass for hours on end. I think this is pretty much Australian culture in general, as this is how our co-workers describe cricket matches as well. It was literally hundreds of people lying around all day long on the grass, drinking lots and lots of beer. It was a bit unnerving wandering around amongst so many drunken people staggering along in herds. And that was literally it – cigarette, beer, and kransky booths. And a place to buy a Schutzenfest hat with a beer stein on it. Nothing German at all.

We did a few loops, had a stein of Cider (no beer for us!), and a cheese Kransky, and watched some drunk people win al lot of money for holding up a jug of beer for as long as they could (called “The Strong Arm Competition”) and called it quits – not surprisingly, seeing a few people passed

out drunk on the sidewalk on the way back to the train station.

I think from now on, we might skip some of these “Cultural Festivals”.

Sashimi

*Melissa*

Luckily, the tuna ‘farm’ wasn’t too far outside the Bay, so we didn’t have to suffer so much turbulence, and after a very informative talk about Tuna, we arrived at our destination!

The first thing that hits you as you step onto the dock and look into the blue-green waters is the size of the dark shadows darting around at high speeds. You keep imagining those cat-food looking tins you se

e on grocery store shelves, and that little cartoon fish with the accent and try to compute that those enormous creatures darting around before you are the same fish.

We were shown how to feed them by holding the head of a small sardine under the water from the dock, and immediately, you see a splash and the sardine has disappeared. These tuna are faster than a Porsche, and have a supernatural ability to NOT touch you. I figured I would give it a try. I crouched down on the dock, holding a smelly sardine by the tail, reached out as far as I could, and dipped his head in the water. I waited, the fish’s head bobbing in and out of the water, the wind rocking the dock and causing waves, and the suspense was building. And then – WHAM! Water splashed in my face, and Chad captured the sheer look of terror in my face as I yanked my hand away. And then it stung. The little bugger had nipped my fingers!! The tuna man helpfully advised using a pair of tongs to hold the fish out after that.

After that, it was time to take the plunge – getting into the water and getting up close and personal with what I was hoping would be dinner. So, wetsuits on, goggles down, we dove in.

I will admit I was a bit nervous – much more so than with the sea lions earlier. These creatures were big, and fast, and we were in a confined space with them. They were fidgety and spastic, and that made me uneasy. As I put my face down in the water, entering the fish world, my heart skipped a beat. The tuna were darting everywhere – each one over 3 feet long, flashy yellow along their backs by their dorsal fins.

I swam around, getting more and more comfortable with them, and then a sardine appeared just in front of my face. This barely had time to register before two monstrosities came for it, zooming past my face, and shocking the algae out of me. I popped my head out of the water to see the tuna man chuckling, as he did the same to the others who were swimming face down. This was Chad’s favorite thing- and I ended up spending some time tossing sardines in front of him to test the tuna’s human avoidance skills.

I got a bit nervous about half way through our time with the tuna, when- swimming casually along- I realized that the sardines we were feeding the tunas were shiny, and a silvery gold color. I looked down at my toes, realizing also that my toes were a silvery gold color. And shiny. Too afraid to sound dumb, asking whether the tuna were attracted to the sardines by the smell or the appearance, I kept my lip shut, and began swimming with my toes lifted from the water, concerned they would mistake my little digits for food. I’m sure I looked a bit sillier doing this than I would have asking the question, but hindsight is always 20/20, eh?

As we set off back towards the Port, they concluded our Tuna tour with a sampling of sashimi. Thin, decadent pink slices of raw tuna. A quick dip in a bit of salty soy sauce, and this was easily the tastiest tuna sashimi I have ever eaten! We got back, happily admitting that our day’s tours were well worth the trip.

For the very special “Birthday Dinner” we decided to venture back out to Coffin Bay to get some fresh seafood. With Port Lincoln being the “seafood capital of Australia”, it was incredibly difficult to find a seafood restaurant! We ended up going to a place called “The Oysterbeds” overlooking the Coffin Bay Harbor. The weather was perfect to sit outside on the patio, admiring the gorgeous blue water, the white sails, and the rolling green hills framing it all.

I couldn’t believe the food – we didn’t order a single thing that either of us has ever tried before: Some poached oysters, kingfish sashimi, Port Spencer Bay Bugs, and a tuna escabeche salad. Every single thing was fantastic – and I am officially a Kingfish convert (it was AMAZING!) With belling brimming full of fishy food, we drove home with the sunset – even forgetting for a brief while how bad our muscles were aching.

It was easily my best birthday yet!!

Birthday Trip to Port Lincoln

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Puppy Dogs of the Sea

*Melissa*

It hurts to move. It hurts to sleep. It hurts to sit still. My neck, my back, my arms, my abs, my KNEE – It’s hard to name a body part that doesn’t hurt. But you’re sadly mistaken if you think my Birthday fun stopped there!! Oh no – a brutal war was waging between our eyelids and our lust for adventure the next morning, as we awoke early to make it to our “swimming with sea lions” boat.

We were the last ones on, and probably looked the roughest, but we settled in to our seats. We set off, not really prepared for the 1.5 hours ride it would be before arriving near the island we were destined for. We learned rather quickly that we are not exactly made out for sea-faring – not to mention that every lump and bump we hit sent shivers of pain through my whole neck thanks to my kiteboarding whiplash.

With grey faces, the boat finally slowed, and stopped by the Hopkins Island – the “juvenile” sea lion island. Immediately we spotted some sea lions wandering into the water, and before we knew it they were splashing by the boat – obviously knowing that some “playmates” had arrived for them. Everyone jumped happily into the freezing cold waters to humor them.

Sea lions are not seals – sea lions look like puppy dogs, and have those puppy dog eyes to go along with it. They would swim up next to you, blow a few bubbles to say hello, and dart off – checking behind to see if you were following them. Occasionally they would swim below you, upside down, watching you, before settling in the seaweed to watch you. They were absolutely adorable, and it was amazing to have these truly wild creatures come up and interact with us like that, completely unprompted!

The ride back was a rough one – especially for Chad, who spent the whole 1.5 hours standing at the back of the boat, trying to stay composed. We hadn’t eaten breakfast, and thanks to our faulty sea-legs, we hadn’t eaten much on the trip over, so luckily the ride remained uneventful.

We had a brief break back at our hotel in the marina to nibble on some snacks and drink some non-salt water before we returned for the second leg of our adventure – the Tuna!

My Birthday Girl

*Chad*
Spending the year in South Australia means that our seasons have flipped; our normal winter months are now long summer days and vice-versa. One of the many advantages of such a flip is that Melissa gets to have another hot birthday; a fact I aimed to capitalize on as much as possible. Since our budget (and time) is limited, I tried to plan a birthday trip for Melissa that would incorporate some distinctly Australian activities and a bit of site seeing at the same time. After a few months of planning, I came up with the perfect trip. We would head over to Port Lincoln, sample some fantastic seafood, see some of the coast line and go on a few adventures.
I think those people that know me wouldn’t really consider me to be a typical sports person; I never got into playing baseball and I don’t care for the NBA. What I do get into is the UFC, surfing, and most importantly, kite boarding! The beauty of kite boarding is that anyone can get into it. One of the first adventures I planned for Melissa’s trip was kite boarding lessons! After some serious searching, I was able to find a place that would teach us both in a private part of Coffin Bay. Yes, we chose to do some kite boarding in a place called Coffin Bay.
Surprisingly, we didn’t have much trouble following the directions to the hidden beach front. We followed a few different dirt roads, past what seemed to be a small collection of shacks then down to a gorgeous secluded bay. The weather was cooperating…..somewhat: the sky was clear, temperature was warm but the wind was blowing. And blowing hard. At one point we had gusts of almost 40 knots. As you can imagine those sort of wind conditions aren’t really conducive for learning to board and I was immediately concerned that we might be in over our heads. After meeting our instructors and assembling our kites we headed out to a small slip of land to try flying on our own.
Even though our practice kite was considerably smaller than an actual “flying” kite, the high gusts tugged and pulled me across the beach. After about 15minutes it was Melissa’s turn. Judging from my experiences I was quit nervous that the kite might be a bit much for her but our instructors didn’t seem to mind. Soon after Melissa got her kite up in the air a massive gust of wind tore across the beach catching her kite with full force. I turned my head just in time to see my beautiful vibrant girlfriend do a wonderful impression of superman. The kite picked her up off the ground and slammed her down, face first, about ten feet away. My heart stopped! I stood there across the beach with my instructor just staring. Although Melissa hit the beach hard, she never let go of her kite. She got up, spit out a mouth full of sand, and kept going. The instructors were seriously impressed. I was impressed but nervous that she hurt herself and was just putting a strong face on it.
The day turned out to be fantastic and exhausting at all the same time. I was given a 9 meter kite to learn with and I was shocked at how much power the thing had. The worst part of the day was trying to tackle the body drag. This procedure has you lying on one side of your body in the water while trying to control a massive kite in 30 knot winds with only one hand. Each time I tried to get down in the water to get in position, waves would begin splashing over my head. The salt water in the face was such a shock; I kept losing control of the kite. The kite would then rip me completely out of the water just to slam me back down. I drank so much salt water I thought I was going to vomit or grow gills.
On the other side of the beach, I was happy to see Melissa getting the hang of things very quickly. She seemed to master the angles and the gist of things much easier than I did. By the end of the day I was exhausted and Melissa was left with some scratches on the face and a re-injured knee. Although we had been physically battered, it was great to try something new and I’m convinced that we are both supposed to be kite boarders!

Hello, 2012

*Melissa*

Goodbye, 2011. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!! Don’t get me wrong – I think I have grown more on a personal level during 2011 than I ever have in any other given year before. But seriously – what a tough year!!

It’s impressive to think that merely 12 months ago, Chad and I were hunting ghosts in Portland’s downtown streets for my Birthday, wondering if we the Department of Justice was EVER going to get around to approving our Australia endeavor. And yet, now I find myself typing my blog posting while sitting on the most uncomfortable futon couch ever built by man, in our living room, in some other man’s home, 3 blocks from Brighton Beach, in Adelaide, South Australia. How time seems to fly.

After our entire day of calling home to family in the states for their Christmas, our minds switched over to the following week – my Birthday week – which Chad had been planning “surprises” for for months. But first we had to make the crossover into 2012.

We had big plans. After all, every other New Years has been rather dull. Sitting in Klamath Falls, freezing our tushes off. This year we were hoping to at least get in on the outskirts of the celebrations – maybe witness the fireworks spectacular from the sandy beach. The next day we had amazing plans to go see some platypuses – Platypi? - In the wild. Something I was overjoyed to do, and something even most Australians cannot claim to have seen!

The morning of the 31^st, however, I awoke with a groggy head, and rolled over to kiss a sick boyfriend good morning. Chad was miserable, with a chesty cough, sore throat, and a stuffy head. As the sun went down, it became clear that neither of us were in any shape to go anywhere, and to our dismay, we spent the New Year’s Celebration watching “PostMaster” on our AppleTV. I had hoped to feel better and still see my platypuses, but even the next day, we were hopelessly unwell.

As my Birthday stealthily approached, I nervously wished Chad better. After months of planning, and trying to keep every detail a surprise, it would be nothing short of a disaster to see it all ruined, and have to admit defeat to the common cold.

Holiday Spirit

*Melissa*

There’s nothing like being home for the holidays, or so they say. And this year, home for us is Adelaide. We spent our Christmas Eve enjoying my last ditch effort and trying to “feel Christmassy” by watching the Classis Ernest Saves Christmas, followed by a fantastic foreign film, Rare Exports, that puts a whole new spin on Santa Claus. I fell asleep, missing the phenomenal ending as usual, with anything BUT sugarplums dancing in my head.

The next morning we awoke to hot, moist air stuffing up the bedroom, and proceeded to the living room to enjoy the Australian Tradition of “Christmas Bon-bons”. No, no- much to my disappointment, these “bon-bon”s are not of the chocolate variety. These are bizarre “poppers”, where – similar to wishbones – one person is supposed to hold on to each end, pull (making a loud Popping sound) and then whoever gets the bigger half gets the “surprise” inside. Somehow, the cheap tissue paper crown, the even cheaper plastic ‘toy’, and the badly and often grammatically incorrect joke, leave a bit to be desired.

After enjoying a quick, simply brekkie out on the porch, we couldn’t resist heading down to the beach for a quick dip. It was 97 degrees out, hardly a few fluffy puffs of clouds in the bright blue sky, and it was Christmas morning. The beach was an obvious choice.

The swarms of traffic should have hinted that everyone was doing the normal holiday thing – running off to visit family, see Granny for dinner, drop in to say hi to the in-laws – but as we approached the beach, it became apparent that it wasn’t the case. We were surprised to see the sand so populated, and the bar on the corner was PACKED with hoards of people eating brunch (all wearing those cheap tissue paper popper crowns, I might add.) I couldn’t bring myself to wade any further than my ankles into the freezing cold Tasman Sea, but Chad dove in like a champ.

We couldn’t have timed our arrival at the Fuller’s house for Christmas lunch any better – walking in right as the food was ready to be devoured!! And boy, was it yummy! Chad and I got our first taste of a true aussie lamb roast, complete with home-made mint sauce (neither of which are my thing, I discovered) and we rounded out the meal with BBQ’d chicken, roasted tatos & sweet tatos, and an amazing pear & walnut salad. Before our dessert, the whole family brought out the ‘bon-bons’ and we all ended up wearing crowns and tinkering around with the badly made toys. They found a new joke to replace last years best (something about Why an elephant is big, grey, and wrinkly? And because if it were small, white, and round it would be an aspirin?) and they graciously gave Chad and me a present – chocolates for Chad, and an Aussie Slang Dictionary for me. We topped it off with our first experience with Pavlova and a yummy berry tart, giving it only a moment to settle before we had to scurry on to our next holiday endeavor.

Dale and Linda had generously gotten Chad and I gifts, which they greeted us with at the door. We were quite excited to get a box of BBQ sauces - much better than Chad’s secret Santa gift at the hospital!! Plus, green tea and a basket of homemade goodies! Mmm mmm! We had a delightful dinner with some Indian treats, some grilled lamb and beef bits – and yes! I made sure to throw a shrimp on the Barbie!! (It looked a bit silly grilling there all by itself, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity!) It was good fun to sit around, meet some silly new people, try some new wines, and ‘hang out’ – something our lack of social life leaves to be desired!

We got home late that night, and couldn’t resist gobbling down some of the goodies from our homemade bag, before drifting off sweetly into dreamland. It was to be a busy day on the 26^th – still Christmas Day back home in the states – and it was our time to call home to family.