Crying makes everything better. And people give you chocolate.

Who knew the last few weeks before graduation would be so amazingly...um...tearful?
We last left Liz as she was supposed to be studying for her Pathophysiology exam that she had accidentally misdated on her calendars...

"Doot-de-doo! I have all the time in the world!" Liz thinks as she twirls the stem of a daisy between her fingers, plucking petals off one at a time. "Do homework? Don't do homework! Do homework? Don't do homework! Hooray!"

Well, so Sunday I had my first glorious shadowing experience in the ED. The day started off with a nosebleed (epistaxis) patient. Very disgusting, yet I couldn't tear myself away. Ever heard of a "rhino rocket"? It's about 3.5 inches long and they doctor crams one a piece in each nostril (and consequently all the way up into your sinuses). It's sort of a last resort for nosebleeds (which can be very dangerous in elderly patients - they bleed out quickly), expanding as it absorbs. I honestly kept expecting it to pop out the back of the patient's head. Starts out looking somewhat like a shortish, white tongue depressor but, I'm guessing, ends up resembling a tampon. Eww. I didn't mean for that to be so gross an example. Moving on.

Sunday night I started the actual writing work of my end-of-semester research review paper, due today. Already had accomplished heaps of research, just needed to bring it all together. Decided that the Patho test was going to be my "drop" test for the semester - choosing research study over patho study (it was a good decision, by the way. There wasn't any possible way I was going to understand that quantity of material in a day or two).

Working on my paper last night I stayed up pretty late and got up stinking early; 1:30am and 3:00am, to be exact. Ouch, my eyes twitch and refuse to focus, remembering that. But, hallelujah! I finished the paper - 19 pages - in time to get to uni, wrap up the PowerPoint presentation that accompanied the paper, and head to class...or so I thought. I had asked classmate Zach if he wouldn't mind giving me a ride home from class as I'm in no condition to drive; I can barely walk straight. Feels like I'm invincible, actually. This has gotta be SO much better than being drunk!

Mom dropped me off at uni and I mechanically made my way to the computer lab to finish the work. Alas. My memory stick didn't work. So I did what any girl in her right mind running on 1.5 hours of sleep would do: I cried. Right there in the lab. Sobbing. Poor Anne and Zach. Hugs. Chocolate. Offers of another memory stick. They wanted to make me feel better. But I couldn't stop crying long enough to explain that really, I'm just tired.

Our lecturer let Zach and I leave early. She said (because it was student presentation day again) it would depress my classmates if I was going to be a wreck the entire time. So off we went to seek IT advice. By this time I'd resigned myself to another night of typing, so when the news came, "someone might be able to physically retrieve the memory, but otherwise it's hopeless..." I was prepared. Zach shouted hamburgers, fries and milkshakes as a consolation before mentioning, "I feel like I should get you a piece of cake or something, uh, with a flower on it - you know - 'Sorry about your paper...sucks to be you!'" After inhaling the burger I felt a little better (why do guys understand this and we're clueless??), plus I'd gotten out of class early.

And then I walked in the door and told my sister what had happened. What makes the entire event all-the-more tragic is that it was my last big assignment of the semester. I was supposed to be "home free" after submitting it. Sigh. Tearing up ensued while searching for a saved copy; I didn't find anything. What I did find was better. A pre-edited hard copy of the near-final edition. And my professor had emailed - "Sounds like my luck. Take your time. I trust you."
My life's not officially over.