9 posts tagged “practicum”

Twice a week I go to a hospital about an hour away for my internship. Three other classmates work at other hospitals in the same area so we generally carpool to save on gas and to get the time to spend with each other.

If I am completely honest with myself...I hate it. It isn't the hospital, I really enjoy the people there and my clients as well. They're great. I don't really mind driving/riding the hour there and back with my friends. Quite enjoyable. I know what you're thinking...if you don't hate your internship and you don't hate the long drive (or the people on that long drive) what is it that you hate?

I was raised to be a hard worker. I like to use my time to the best of my abilities and get as much accomplished as I can. Especially when I'm doing it for someone else. I'm currently assigned to three clients which means every time I'm there I see each of them for individual sessions and then every other week I see their parent/guardian for a family session (or over the phone). I love the feeling of a day where I've seen all my clients and filled in my time with psychosocial evaluations. It's a full day and I feel accomplished and like I've put in the work I agreed to do.

The other part of this is that I don't feel like I can fully commit to doing extra work, such as psychosocials, because of time constraints. In reality, there are no time constraints. Nobody ever said "we need to be done with everything by 3:00 so we can get back to town on time for ____." No rules were ever placed upon this carpool situation. I've had days where I've waited until almost 5:00 and it worked out fine. I just don't want to be the reason people have to wait.

For this reason (and just one other), I don't take on extra work after I've finished my work unless I know I have plenty of time to get it done. If I finish all my individual sessions by noon and I don't have any family sessions, of course I'll make time for psychosocial evaluations. Not a problem at all. If I'm done about 2:30...that's pushing it.

I never really thought much of it, to be honest. I just thought I was trying to be considerate of my classmates and their lives waiting back in town. I knew they had places to be, things to do, and I didn't want to be the reason they were delayed. It never really hit me until a week or two when I thought I had lost my phone. I spent the entire day at the hospital and couldn't get or send texts telling me (or them) when I'd be done. I didn't know what my time frame was and I was asked to do about four extra sessions with kids.

I was in full panic mode and I had no idea why I was in panic mode. Then, out of nowhere, I started trying to figure out ways I could get back to my apartment when I got left because I went too long or couldn't tell my classmates to wait. My brain was in damage control mode and there was no way to make sense of it. Now that I've realized the familiarity of that feeling, it has only intensified the feeling on the days that I'm not the driver. Questions about whether I'll be forgotten or intentionally left because I took too long continue to occupy my mind when I'm not the driver.

I finish earlier and earlier for fear of being left. Then I have to sit and wait for hours at a time because I didn't dare take on any extra work. And there have even been times where I'll have to find a place where I won't be found so I don't feel bad for not doing as much work as I know I can do. Then I end up feeling bad because I know I could work harder and do more, but if I do then the fear gets even stronger and I don't trust that I won't have to walk the 60 miles home.

Then comes the question of whether I should drive myself, work a fully day, feel good about my day, pay my own gas, have a way home without fear, and have to explain why I "all of a sudden" don't want to ride with my classmates for four hours a week. This, of course, makes them feel like I don't want to be around them and I feel like a bad friend for letting something so petty get in the way of our time together. Pretty much, no matter what, it's going to stink. Which one stinks least? I hate having to drive an hour to the hospital.

Lately I've found myself very frustrated in regard to therapy. Mostly because there are so many choices that give the illusion of true healing. The more I've tried to focus on what a family/couple/individual really needs, the more convinced I have become that I am cheating my clients. Especially those clients that profess to not be spiritual. For me, all solutions and pathways to healing and healthy relationships is through the Gospel. Giving my clients anything less feels...false and leaves me feeling unsatisfied.

This weekend is the General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints of which I'm a member. Earlier this year, President Gordon B. Hinckley, our prophet died and this is the solemn assembly in which the entire church sustains a new prophet, Thomas S. Monson. As I was leaving the second session of the day I was pondering upon this frustration. My inability to immediately download my testimony and knowledge into the hearts and minds of every person that I meet continued to leave me feeling unsettled.

It has been so frustrating for me that I was questioning my choice. Is it really fair to be a therapist and give only semblances of the best thing? I continued to feel as though I was selling my clients short. Yesterday, while working at the hospital, I was seeing one of my clients, a seven-year-old boy. Generally he is distracted and not very cooperative in our individual sessions. Our session was coming to a close when he noticed my necklace.

Usually I am wearing a necklace that my sister gave me, but because of my frustrations and feeling that I needed to be reminded of who I am and Heavenly Father's love for me, I have been wearing my medallion that I earned in Young Women's. It was this pendant I was wearing yesterday. My client asked me about my necklace and I paused to consider my response to this child who may or may not understand. Then I asked him if he had ever heard of God. He hesitated in his response, but eventually answered in the affirmative. I then explained that I am (and everyone, including him is) a child of God. Then I told him that God is a King and children of Kings are Princes and Princesses with responsibilities attached to their royal heritage. The light in his face when he realized that I was telling him that he was a prince, lifted my spirits a little.

As I was thinking about this and other sessions in the past where I shared a portion of my testimony, whether directly or indirectly, I noticed that those are the ones where I felt most...honest with my clients. I didn't tell them everything and attempt to convert them on the spot. I'd hardly say I was trying to convert them.

I suppose I had been assuming that I should be harvesting instead of planting seeds. In many of my sessions, the word God doesn't come up. I don't like pushing people into religious discussions, but if they bring it up, I try my best to respond in a way that plants a little more truth in their already existing garden of faith. I can choose to be frustrated because I'm not giving everything, but as long as I'm giving what I'm asked and share with others, client or not, a portion, plant a seed, and tend to it to see if it needs further nourishment, I should be okay.

I'm sure frustrations will arise, but if I turn it over to Heavenly Father, He will teach me and take those frustrations away. A small truth has the potential to grow at amazing proportions.

I had my first day on my own at my new rotation. I work at a children's psychiatric hospital where they do acute and residential therapy. It was exciting, scary, and draining all at once. I had to do four psychosocial evaluations and each kid was very different. One professes to be a devil worshiper. Another says that they lied and aren't really suicidal at all. Another is deaf with a translator that has to stay with her at all times.

While doing paperwork in one of the rooms a case manager was making phone calls to a parent of a resident that was going to be released. After the calls I dared ask him if some parents don't show up. He said that there are parents that don't come get their kids. The kids end up getting picked up by child services and put into "the system".

Watching these kids just gets me. Last week some of the workers were talking about one of the kids and saying his treatment was a failure and there was no hope for his "recovery". It really hacked me off. First of all that the people that were supposed to be helping the resident get better didn't even have hope for him to change. There are kids there that just need someone to take care of them.

I called a parent today, identified myself, and then the parent hung up. I called back, thinking it was accidental and the phone was picked up and hung up. Their child was admitted yesterday and they'd already given up.

It just makes me wonder what has to happen to kids to get to this point. Even worse, what has happened to their parents to teach the children such unhealthy coping skills? It's sad, but the kids are great. I just want to hug them all. Their parents...will have to grow on me. :) 

Today was one of those days that I really expected every day in the therapy profession to be like.

First of all, it's an emotional week for me and it has been escalating since this time last week so I have been rather capable of crying at the drop of a hat. Lucky me.

It was also my last day at my first internship rotation. I've come to really love the place and the sadness of leaving and the anxiety of the new rotation/supervisor is not going unnoticed by my emotions.

As part of the schedule they guys have "Solo Reading" where we read for an hour or an hour and a half. There are pretty strict rules regarding this solo reading and I broke the biggest one today by accidentally falling asleep. The guys were upset and I was rather upset for screwing up on my last day.

To add to this, the resident at the facility that graduated from the same high school as I did graduated today and I actually got to attend his graduation group (they are usually on Tuesday and I miss them because of class or sessions). Again, emotional.

I walked away and only separated by a short shower, I had a session with a marital couple. My first marital couple at that. Both had affairs and I'm their therapist. It was my second session and I really feel like I might be able to help them, but I haven't the slightest idea of how. My goal is to not think about it too much, for a variety of reasons.

I had a couple thoughts in spite of all these stressors today. Especially while I was waiting for the graduation group to start and I didn't have anywhere I was "assigned" to be because we weren't supposed to be there.

I think some people get the impression that I don't like them. In many cases that is a very astute observation, but I'm sure it isn't the reason they think. I have this "gift" of, well, seeing through people. I suppose that's the best way to put it. The problem arises when I know them more than they have openly told me or shown me. Then I think that we're closer than we are and I get disappointed because I was wrong or just by the mere fact that I take caution to not let them know I know so much about them because it tends to freak people out. Not kidding.

This was my dilemma with this guy that was graduating. I have this pretty intense paranoia that the guys talk about what a suck-egg of an intern I am when I'm not around. I wouldn't really suspect it if I hadn't heard them talk about other interns that way. Okay, maybe I would. In any case, I found myself sitting on the deck with my feet dangling off the edge and wondering if my closeness to this resident was just me being totally clueless. It is somewhat voyeuristic to participate in family week, but at least we don't have a choice. Graduation the resident pretty much affirms every person in the circle and I was feeling that I'd get feigned affirmation if I went. I suppose it's easier to believe the bad things than to endure the good.

I ended up going and it was a really good group. I don't think I was wrong about the guy, but I'm even more hesitant to go to the next one that I've already committed to. If I hadn't promised, I probably wouldn't go. I suppose I don't like putting myself in a position where I am expecting praise. Probably because whenever I've set myself up for praise in the past I generally receive criticism and it crushes me more because I was already open instead of bracing myself for the worst.

I have a test in the morning. I should be studying. We all know I'm not that kind of girl though.

At the drug treatment center where I'm on rotation, there are some pretty serious rules. Some make complete sense, others make a little sense, and sometimes it seems like they make them up as they go. Because of this last one, I felt rather frustrated on Wednesday when I was there. We aren't allowed to do any therapy there, which is fine, so much of our role is to interact with the guys, build relationship, monitor conversation, etc. When we had our orientation we were told there were certain bands they couldn't talk about, etc. but we would "talk about that later" and all the things we aren't allowed to talk with the boys about were never discussed with us.

I like music. Okay, some may consider me an addict. There are worse things to be addicted to. Because of this, I know a variety of artists. I know which ones are considered "drug culture" bands and which ones are allowed. Wednesday I was showing a couple of the guys a book that I'm reading called "This Is Your Brain On Music". It's a neurology book, interesting to where I am (which isn't far), but certainly nothing that would trigger the guys. It just so happened that my book was in my purse, as well as my iPod. The guys have iPods. The staff load their iPods with "approved" music and they can listen. They wanted to know what kind of music I had on mine so I took my headphones off of it so they couldn't listen and let a couple of the guys look at it. I recently cleaned off my iPod and there is only about 1300 songs on it (not much considering) most of which consist of sappy chicky songs, church songs, or soundtracks to children's movies. Nothing compromising. Well, I got in a bit of trouble for letting the guys look at my iPod, something they handle pretty much every day of the week. I get it though, it makes sense. I put my purse in the office as soon as I had opportunity (it's locked).

The iPod incident was after breakfast. At lunch I ended up sitting with one of the guys that lives about twenty minutes outside of my hometown. We were talking about where he went to school and I asked him if he knew a family that I knew attended there. He was SO excited to learn that I knew the family because they are his neighbors. Most of the time that I've heard about him he gets reports of being in a bad mood, etc. After we had a common friend and a common town (he had forgotten that I told him we were from the same place) we were buddies the rest of the day. After lunch we continued one of the low elements (Wednesday is adventure day) and I was talking to three or four guys. One of the guys started singing a song and I stopped him to ask if he was allowed to sing it. He didn't know why he wouldn't be allowed to and I told them that the song was about suicide and I didn't think the facility would want them to sing it. Right about that time, the general operations person was there and got on to the guys for talking to me. The conversation wasn't me encouraging them to rebel, but just finding out what the rules were. I should just sit down with the woman we did orientation with and clear up what she never finished. It's frustrating. I mean, I am told that I should interact with the guys, but it's limited. I can't talk about their families with them when we are in groups. Music is something common between most of us. Plus the guys were singing all day, of course we'll talk about music. I feel like I was trying to keep the topic in the area it should have been and I got cut off. It makes it difficult to trust that anything I say to them won't get me in "trouble".

I'm really hoping I'm not as gun shy tomorrow as I think I may be. Maybe I'll just go with the older group. I don't get along with all of them as well as the younger ones. Then I won't get in trouble. Maybe.

I didn't realize it had been so long since I had posted! My apologies.

Well, group therapy class ended and things went rather well considering the rocky beginning. The next week we did our ropes course training which only ended up containing one 40-foot element and the rest of the time was spent on the ground talking and crying. Such is life. Wednesday last week we had our orientation for our first rotation and had to go to the police station and get fingerprinted which was exciting, regardless of the fact that it is a small police station.

I spent the weekend on rotation at the drug treatment facility for boys that is located closeby. Saturday and Sunday were fun because I was the only intern and I got to dig holes and cook breakfast for the guys. They are really a great group of guys. It is so wild to imagine that all of them were addicted to something at some point. They look just like regular people. In any case, I'm really going to enjoy my first rotation and I am probably going to hate having to leave when it comes time for September.

The plus in all that is that I'll be on rotation in the clinic during the holidays which means there will not be any trouble with rotations conflicting with whatever time I might want off. :)

We just started our stats class today and I'm totally going to ace it (so far, I've only had ONE B which hasn't happened since 3rd grade!). I'm pretty stoked about that as well. Things are good in general. I don't really have any deep pensive thoughts to reflect upon right now, but I assure you that they are accumulating quite nicely. Maybe one day I'll have the attention span and time to flesh them all out. :)

In a matter of hours I will be playing the role of group facilitator/therapist for my group therapy class. I'm the last to go, so I'm feeling the whole "learn from other people's mistakes" expectation. Of course, I've been going to class with a mostly mush brain because if I go to bed "early" then I'm up at three in the morning and if I have taken a nap in the afternoon...I'm stuck staying up until shortly before I should be waking. In any case, I'm not necessarily completely there when it comes to five hours of group therapy.

The dynamics of the group are definitely different than we all expected. Last year the class had some issues to work through and so they had a unique experience where the class was emotionally draining. It was this expectation of closeness, etc. that stirred the controversy about the guys that aren't in the program auditing the class. Now that I get it even more, it makes sense. Had I known it from the beginning then I may not have spoken with my professor, but had I waited, I would have had a weeks worth of tension in class. Either way, we only have three days left and I welcome the weekend.

Next week we have two more days of ropes course training and then we begin our practicums on Friday. I'm grateful every time I think about the order of my practicum: the drug treatment center, the clinic, the hospital psych center. Mostly because I feel like I'm being eased into it, gradually working up to the harder things. I suppose some might say that coming out of group processes and then having to wait a year might render me useless in a group, but I just have to refresh my memory a little when it comes time.

In any case, I think I might try and go back to sleep. After this one thing. I found out last week that the chairman of the program doesn't like cheesecake. I know that sounds like a silly thing to bring up, but ... let me try to explain. When I get bored/stressed/insomniatic I tend to bake. I've probably brought seven or eight different kinds of cheesecakes up over the past few semesters. (I didn't realize it was that many until I thought about it!) Each time he is more than willing to eat the cheesecake and hasn't given any indication that he prefers pie. When I spoke with him about it today, he had completely forgotten that he had outed himself to me about his dislike of cheesecake. I found myself bothered by this idea of him eating cheesecake just because I made it. Another professor doesn't like chocolate so he doesn't eat the stuff I make with chocolate. A front desk worker is allergic to nuts so he doesn't eat the cheesecakes with nuts. For me, it is just logical to not partake of the thing you do not like if you do not like it. I spoke with him about how I don't like that he feels "obligated" to eat it when I bring it. His response is what has gotten me thinking. He says that he eats it out of "respect" for me.

I think respect is a lost art. I think it ties into the whole "because I said so" answer for parents. You should sometimes do the things you don't want to do out of respect for the other person/people. Oftentimes people expect that kind of respect. There are lawsuits all over the world based upon the fact that someone felt disrespected or discriminated against. This "you should have picked me" mentatlity paralells with the momentum of our society becoming an individualistic one. We often request of others what we are unwilling to offer ourselves. This is exhibited in all relationships whether it is a employer/employee, friend, or marital relationship. We become prideful with thoughts like "she didn't call me so I'm not calling her", or "my husband isn't meeting my needs so why should I meet his?", or "I'm not going to work my hardest because I'm not getting the vacation day I want". Instead, maybe we should be less prideful and more willing to keep our commitments out of respect. Not through sacrficing our own needs all the time, but rather out or respect for ourselves, for our own perspective of ourselves. I don't know why someone not liking cheesecakes made me think the way that I did. Maybe because I haven't seen that played out in my own life before. Very rarely do I see others make sacrifices of their own preferences just out of respect for me.

I'm not saying I'd like people to bow to my will at every turn, but I'm also not saying that I enjoy being treated as though I, and my feelings, are dispensable. Somewhere in between would be nice.

**I wrote this Monday morning (obviously) and was having trouble with my computer and posting because I have maxed out space on my laptop. An external hard drive will hopefully solve the problem. :) **

It's nearing 8:30 on Monday morning. I've been up all night. My sleep schedules have been very off lately. Saturday night (or rather, Sunday morning) I didn't get to sleep until nearly 5:30 and out of habit, woke at 7:22, took my medicine and got back in bed, forgetting to set the hour "nap" function to arise for church. I know, I know. Not again. When I finally woke at 3:30 I realized my error and made efforts to redeem myself throughout the rest of the day. I just finished reading "The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce" that I started during Christmas break. I've got double vision with or without my glasses because my eyes are tired.

A classmate loaned me a book called "Every Thought Captive" by Jerusha Clark

 and it was my first reading attempt for the day. I became frustrated with it rather quickly. It would reference scripture, but have a different version noted by each one, with its own interpretation. It amazed me how one person could own and believe in so many different "versions" of the Bible. I'll stick with King James, thanks. So, every time a scripture was mentioned I had mine with me to see what it "really" said. I became bored with the constant need for correction. I made it to the fourth chapter. Chapter four spoke of how we are in a state of "one more thing" where if we reach one more goal, get one more material possession, and we can be happy. It goes into discussing how there is no shortage of blessings from God, etc. and then I came to a group of sentences that prompted me to put down the book. It prefaces this statement by saying that sinful thoughts should be immediately dismissed, but questions desires for things that God may give us and then it says the following.

    "For instance, we know that being married or having a child does not matter ultimately in eternity. There are no husbands or families in heaven; but should we see those things as irrelevant here and now?"

You are kidding me!? It seems almost a contradiction for many to be defending the sanctity of marriage between a man and a woman, claiming it to be ordained of God and yet they don't believe it lasts past this life. Such a sad thought. In any case, I didn't finish the book. There are many other books I needed to read that were assignments and I could find more support for, so I moved on at the risk of offending my friend and classmate.

Next I picked up a small book that I bought over the break. It is called "Begin Where You Are"

and is about nurturing relationships with less-active family and friends. It looked interesting and peaked whatever I was thinking about that day so I bought it. Ninety-five pages later I was done. A short read (obviously) but I cannot say my world is changed by it.

 

 

 

 

Next I picked up my "Pragmatics of Human Communication"

book. I have been having a really hard time reading this book. I made it through half of chapter two for the first assignment (two chapters at a time). I never did make it to three or four. I decided last week that I'd just pick up at five and see if that helped. I didn't make it very far in chapter five either. This time it was just  past two (I remember checking the clock to make sure it wasn't Sunday anymore, haha)  and I was determined to get the reading done. I finished the last two chapters of the book and made efforts to return and read the lacking chapters sandwiched between what I had already read, but my efforts were in vain. I'll finish it, eventually. Probably later this week or even today if I get bored enough before class starts at 1:00.

 

 

 

 

After that I finally returned to the divorce book I previously mentioned. I remember tearfully trudging through the first five or ten chapters when I read it over break. I picked up on chapter 13 and finished it with a little less emotion, but emotion nonetheless. There are many quotes that I marked throughout the book and I will plead your patience as I have made an attempt to whittle down from my original markings. As an introduction to the book, there was a 25-year longitudinal study following children of various families of divorce. Some were due to infidelity, some were abusive relationships, some just didn't want to try anymore and others couldn't handle the "burden" of a child with special needs. Now that I am looking through the pages that I marked nearly two months ago I realize there are many long paragraphs that I have marked. To type out and explain exactly why each passage was important to me would be emotionally and physically exhausting (to add upon my all-nighter in an effort to re-regulate my sleep). Instead I can only suggest that others read it. Particularly children of divorce. It exhibits examples of many types of familial situations and parallels neighboring families, one which remained in tact and the other that divorced. These children were peers. Their parents had similar incomes and were the closest to an alternate reality. It is amazing to see the variation between the two. This includes families where the father was physically abusive to the mother and all other scenarios. Each, with the exception of one, was compared with their intact counterpart families.  I can understand why Dr. Hickmon wanted our class to read this book. I am the only student in the program with divorced parents, but that does not necessarily mean that the book taught me less, or more, than my classmates.

There are two other books I read a few weeks ago that I'm just now taking the time to do my little review. I read "For One More Day" by Mitch Albom.

I had high expectations from the author of "Tuesdays With Morrie" and "Five People You Meet In Heaven". To be completely honest, I have the movies and have seen them both, but only recently bought the books with this one and opted to read this first because I already knew the gist of the other two books. The book tells the story of a man who attempted suicide and lived. It is based on an actual person and the facts in the person's story were found to be consistent. I was not really sure of what to think of it, to be honest. First of all, I'm a little touchy about suicide for a variety of reasons, but I can find some truth in the experiences the man claimed to have had following his attempt. The little promotional clip on the back begins "If you had the chance, just one chance, to go back and fix what you did wrong in life, would you take it?" I can't say that this book addresses that. It isn't a time machine to teach you how to go back and change mistakes you have made. Personally, I'm not a believer in changing mistakes. Withdrawal of mistakes means withdrawal of the lesson attached to it and all of my lessons have been necessary, thus far. I'm not sure if it is the writing style of Mr. Albom or the book itself because I haven't read the other books yet, but there was a distinct impression that I didn't like this one as much as I liked the others (in movie form). Maybe if they make it a movie I'll like it. :)

"Captivating" by John and Stasi Eldredge is the other book I read. For those of you who have been paying attention, "Captivating" is the female counterpart to "Wild At Heart" that I reviewed a while back. Like the divorce book, there are many markings (though fewer merely because it is a shorter book) but to itemize them at this time would be exhaustive on an already long day. Suffice it to say, I didn't like it as much as "Wild At Heart". I found myself wanting for more when it was over, like there was another chapter to be found somewhere and I just couldn't get it.

 

 

There are two other books I started reading a couple weeks ago. The first is Viktor Frankl's "Man's Search For Meaning"

and the other is called "The Birth Order Book".

I don't know why but I've always been fascinated with birth order and the book has pretty much confirmed to me that I am a birth order mutt. The first chapter gives a listing of various characteristics of first, middle, last, and only born children and with the exception of one or two qualities in each list I am all of them. There is no majority in the lists, not even by one. I'll make a point to give that book a full entry, granted I have time.

This past month has been a rough one. I returned to meet my second semester unenthusiastic and unmotivated. My Thursday class regarding Domestic and Sexual Abuse began wearing on me more than I expected and last Thursday I came home from class and cried for no particular reason. The funny thing is, we aren't even talking about sexual abuse yet. I suppose that's not really "funny" but, well, you know. For the most part we have been reviewing, more extensively, the arrow-> message-> conclusion, etc. that we learned last semester. There are some newcomers this semester so we are reviewing some things and getting deeper just for the sake of the context. After having to dig up as many arrows as I could remember last semester and then re-bury them as strategically as I could it was difficult to return home over the holidays without all those messages being repeated in every treatment or mistreatment by my friends and/or family members. Each time I leave that class I feel like there is something I haven't dealt with yet, something I don't remember and it has gotten to the point where it really bothers me. Anyone that knows me knows that I remember, not everything but more than most people. For something to seem to weigh me down so much and for me to have no recollection is distracting to say the least.

In other news, our pre-practicum interviews have been set for March 7th. I'm alphabetically last so I'm last in the lineup which puts my interview exactly straddling the 5:00 mark. I have half an hour to convince my professors that I am ready, but not ready, to see clients. I suspect we will begin practicum the week after Spring Break.

Lastly. There is a banana on my microwave. It is the final banana in a bunch of seven that I bought last week. For those of you that know me, bananas and I have had our fair share of ups and downs over the years. According to legend, we were inseparable. Follow the trail of banana peels to find me. A box a week or something like that. I remember none of this. I do remember throwing up in the back of a station wagon on the way to someone's house, up and down the hills. I have not consistently, voluntarily eaten bananas since that fateful day. There would be days when I was "starving" and had little alternative sources of nourishment but I promise I didn't enjoy it. I decided it was high time that I let bygones be bygones and forgive the banana. After all, fried chicken had done the same to me yet I forgave after a year or so. I think it interesting that the things that happened to be as a teen were so much easier to forgive than things that happened in my first years of school. I can only deduct that it is because I made efforts to care less as I progressed in years. My skin was thicker. I will say this. When I eat this last banana, I'm not going to go out and buy another bunch. I may not reject a dish with bananas in it when presented to me, but I cannot say that my affection for the banana is restored just because I had one every day for a week. I fear our relationship will never be the same. The point is, I'm trying and that is all I can offer today.

*edit: I ate the last banana this morning and it actually tasted good. :) We'll see. I still like apples better.*

I'm at work now after a nice little nap.

In class today I asked Hickman how "one" would overcome the arrows once the arrow is named.  My mind was already mush before he started to answer the question so I'm not sure if he really just danced around it and said that the therapist needs to establish the relationship with the client that would counteract their conclusions or if he really answered it and I completely missed it.  Either way, I'm still a little lost on the resolution after the fact.  It's rather frustrating in that case.  It's like being cut open for surgery and then having to wait for the surgeon to learn the procedure before you can be sewn up and better.  Exhausting.

I also found out that we have another presentation due in a couple weeks.  This time in Hickman's class (that's two for Pollard, one for Moore, one for Rackley, and one for Hickman) and we have to have partners.  Granted, I've already established a pretty functional relationship with my partner so that isn't the issue.  The issue is time, scheduling, etc.  Had I known about these presentations at the onset I could have planned and balanced them out, but Rackley and Hickman both sprung them on us and we have a total of about forty to fifty pages of writing due in the span of a week or so.

I also learned that once rotations begin, I'll be working weekends.  I don't know why I thought we'd have the weekends off or what not, but it's just part of life.  At least I don't have to worry about work or social obligations while I'm here.  I mean, yes, I work at the clinic, but that will only last until I start doing therapy because I can't very well man the desk and do therapy, can I?  Eh, I still haven't gotten my first paychecks though.  I'm going to have to go by HR tomorrow and check on that.

There is a great deal of reading to do in the next couple days.  I have to finish Moore's paper and get ready for my presentation on Monday.  Pollard's assignment on Tuesday (which is now much less than we thought *whew*).  Then those four chapters for Rackley that I didn't do while I was home last weekend.  I have a feeling that weekends home will not be a frequent thing once I get into practicum.  One trip made me realize how little sleep I get, how frequently I put my own needs behind the needs of others, and how exhausted I am when I get back.  I suppose working on the weekends won't be the end of the world.  At least I won't be bored.