Best drug seeker video ever!

This video explains perfectly why I like working public health better than working in hospitals. No one asks for narcotics when you're vaccinating them!
(Be sure to watch all of it--the last 30 seconds are priceless.)

Enabling my yarn addiction

I lead a fairly boring life. When you get right down to it, so does most of the family. Even the ones who may have been a bit wild in the past now have respectable jobs, like being a substance abuse counselor.
The extended family does a Christmas gift exchange. Pick a relative's name out of a hat, get them a gift. You know the drill.
A couple of weeks ago, my brother in law announced that he'd gotten my name and asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I suggested a gift certificate to a local yarn store.
Then he had to ask the fateful question: "How much money do you want on it?"
Trying to be polite, I hemmed and hawed. But he persisted in wanting to know a specific dollar amount.
My sister in law knits, so I appealed to her better judgement. "Would you explain to your beloved why it's a bad idea to ask a knitter how much money they need for yarn?"
Since their household has close to 25 years worth of collective sobriety, she chose a metaphor that would be easily understood. "Baby, when you were on dope, how much of your income did you spend on it?"

Wrestling with strange toddlers for a living

I realize people want their kids to behave in public. But this week, I've gotten a bit weirded out with parents making their kids say "thank you" to me after I vaccinate them. It seems well-intentioned, but a bit heavy-handed. Because I'm pretty sure that from the kid's perspective, they've been dragged to a strange place and held down while a lady they don't know just stabbed them with a needle--not exactly something to feel thankful for.
If the kids don't hit/kick/scream too much (and how much is "too much" completely depends on the child in question) I give them a sticker. (Or an extra Band-Aid, if we're out of stickers.) Having them say "Thank you for the sticker" seems appropriate (Although the Happy Hospitalist seems to have issues in this department) but forcing the kids to express unspecified gratitude confuses me.

Finished the sweater!

I finished the Sonnet cardigan!

Mass vaccinations are fun for everyone!

The new job is going well. I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to do nursing with people who aren't sick! (And the fact that working for the health department means I don't have to lift anyone heavier than a toddler doesn't hurt either.)

Because H1N1 (swine) flu vaccine is still limited in our area, we're trying to make sure all the "first responders" (police, firemen, EMTs, hospital workers, etc.) get vaccinated. So on Thursday, I got to go vaccinate the local fire and police departments at the new Lebanon Justice Center.

The vaccine comes in the same two forms as the usual seasonal flu vaccine--the nasal mist and the shot. Because of the misinformation swirling around the nation about the vaccine, we had a hard time getting people to accept the nasal mist. (The government sent us twice as much nasal vaccine as the injectable form, so we're trying to save the shot for people who can't have the nasal form.)

Therefore, much of the evening went like this:
I'd look over the guy's form (we vaccinated a grand total of three women all evening, and they were all dispatchers) and say "Congratulations, you're a healthy person between ages 2 and 49, you qualify for the nasal mist!"
Vaccinee: "But I want the shot! I've heard bad things about the mist!"
My coworker K usually took over at this point, as she's worked in the community much longer than I have. "What sort of bad things?"
Vaccinee:"You know, bad things.... All my buddies say it's best to get the shot."
K: (looks at guy's form) "It's just like the seasonal nasal flu vaccine. And you're telling me that you're 35 and you're still falling for peer pressure?"
Vaccinee: "Fine, I'll get the mist."

Watching K use the guys' fear of being thought vulnerable to peer pressure (which might be a form of peer pressure) to bully them into getting the nasal vaccine was priceless. I want to be like her when I grow up!

Retail therapy

Shirley caught a cold earlier this week, and she shared it with the rest of the family. I hope I'm over it (or have stopped coughing) before work starts on Wednesday!

While I'm very grateful that starched white dresses are no longer required attire for nurses, I've grown weary of the ubiquitous scrubs. While I appreciate the fact that they come in an amazing array of colors, the fact remains that their stain-resistant fabrics, bright prints featuring a variety of cartoon characters, and smock-inspired styling makes me feel slightly unprofessional. Next to the white-coated MDs, I feel like I might as well be wearing pajamas to work.

So you can imagine how overjoyed I was to learn that business casual attire is required at my new employers. Finally, a good excuse to get out my iron (okay, I'm lying with that one, as I've only recently realized that my ironing board is in the garage, precisely where the movers left it a year ago) and my dress clothes. Then I checked through my closet and discovered that not only did I only own one pair of dress slacks but the majority of my tops are summer clothing.

So today, in spite of my nasty cold, I somehow found the strength to go shopping. (It's amazing stuff, Shopping is. They really ought to market it as a cure for the common cold. "Feel sniffly? Try Shopping! You'll feel better in minutes!") I'm hoping some cute new outfits go a long way towards allaying my nerves about starting a new job.

I have a job!

What does it take to make me finish a sweater? (Don't get Brian started on this topic.) Since I knit mainly for relaxation and have the attention span of a heavily-caffinated rodent, I generally have between five and twenty projects in varying stages of completion.
I've been working on a bulky-weight version of the Sonnet cardigan out of handspun superwash wool since May. I'm midway through the last sleeve, and starting to run low on yarn. I'm down to the last ball, and I have a paranoid fear that I'll be five rows from completion and then completely run out of yarn.
So it has languished in my UFO bin for the last four months. But after finding out that I start a temporary job next Wednesday (and the required attire is business casual) I've been knitting on it like a mad woman.