Sunday, February 22, 2009

Operation Stay Smart

Yo Mama's so fat, Ben Kenobi said "That's no moon...that's your mother!"

I think yo mama jokes are probably one of the most highbrow forms of humor out there. If you're a fifth grader. But even so, a good yo mama joke requires skill, wit, and a certain level of intelligence.

segue into relevant story...

I recently read a book called The Know-It-All, and it was very funny. The level of funny was about par with a well-executed yo mama joke, in fact. But what ties this tidbit into my overall story is this: AJ Jacobs, the writer, decides he wants to read the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica from a-ak to zywiec. Why? I'll let AJ explain.

"I used to be smart. Back in high school and college, I was actually considered somewhat cerebral. I brought D. H. Lawrence novels on vacations, earnestly debated the fundamentals of Marxism, peppered my conversation with words like "albeit." I knew my stuff. Then, in the years since graduating college, I began a long, slow slide into dumbness. At age thirty-five, I've become embarrassingly ignorant. If things continue at their current rate, by my fortieth birthday, I'll be spending my days watching Wheel of Fortune and drooling into a bucket."

AJ also talks about how the most important thing he can remember from college is that a burrito left on the floor for five days is still edible, but only if you chew really hard. He laments his loss of knowledge, and wonders how he can possibly become smart again. It's a good read; I highly recommend it. But I digress.

Everyone knows the old adage of "use it or lose it," and this definitely applies to me. I haven't cracked a nursing text book in two months, and sometimes I find myself unable to think of an anatomical part or drug side effect or the proper name for a butt-foley (to this day, I can't think of the correct name for that last one. I'm not all that concerned though because butt-foley has to be way more fun to say.) Will all of my nursing knowledge slowly slip away? Of course I'm learning more and more practical things since I've started working, and I am slowly becoming well-versed in relevant important meds and information, but the little obscure details from nursing school will surely filter out. There's only so much room in the brain, after all.

This is kind of alarming. I paid a lot of money for my education and textbooks, and I don't want to see that information ooze away. Of course I'll keep myself well-knowledgeable about the very important things and those which I see everyday, but it's going to be sort of sad to say goodbye to the minutae from school. Our professors harped over a lot of little teeny things, and I feel rather saddened at their imminent passing.

I suppose the only way to prevent my own slide into dumbness is to keep reading like it's my job. I don't really want to have homework ever again, but it's important to keep up-to-date on what is happening in the world of nursing. I just joined ENA and will be getting their journal and newsletters, which I think is a nice little baby step into keeping myself current. And as much as I hate to do it, I have decided that I'll crack open my textbooks every now and then and read up on a topic that I've gotten fuzzy on. My mission: avoid dumbness.

After all, it wouldn't do to have your nurse drooling into a bucket while taking care of you, would it?

5 comments:

Filia Dei said...

sst,
I think it's normal for the book knowledge of collegate learning to wane as the practical knowledge of on the job experience grows. Each nursing department has it's own knowledge and skill set. I applaud your dedication and desire to retain your original knowledge base. BUT as old Mr. Butterbur says so eloquently "One thing drives out another, so to speak."

Somenurse said...

the answer is flexiseal

L said...

Flexiseal, eh? Butt-foley still sounds better :)

kaley said...

do you still know Aragorn's speech to the army of Middle Earth as they stood at the gates of Mordor?

L said...

I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me...

I hate you.