Jake vs. deer part II

There is that time at 2:30 am when everything is fuzzy. The mind simply sits there taking in the road. The two lines play in an easy fashion, right then left, and the car stays between them on its own accord. Miles of Northern Illinois disappear in the rearview.

But then the flash of white in the headlight. The foot hits the brake and the navigator yells deer. Progressive braking made automatic through years of bicycling takes over. Squeeze, don't stomp. Slight adjust left. Tire begin to protest but the rear doesn't break loose. The deer cuts back across the road. Slalom right and let off the brake.


We go flying past six feet away from the deer.

5 seconds later epinephrine hits the blood stream and I go all shaky. Heart rate jumps 50 BPM. Breath.

6 days later returning from Canada I had a interesting conversation with my friend Eugene.

Eugene: So how do you think is best to deal with deer? (In excellent Russian accent)
Jake: Well, last time I was able to brake and swerve just enough to avoid it.
Eugene: I hear it is best just to hit deer. That way there is less danger for passengers.
Jake: Well yah, I am always sure to not lose control of the car. No deer is worth my friends' lives.
Eugene: Hmmm

5 hours later about 3 a.m. I am driving a new rental van with 5 friends blissfully asleep. The deer comes. Again the brake. This time, no swerve. Let the deer make her play. Her move is the slow stroll. Mine is the heavy foot. More squealing this time, but the van holds position. The deer never speeds up of slows down and passes 4 feet off our left bumper.

Jake: O.K.?
Eugene: Is O.K.

jake vs. deer

Single of plural?

Plural my good friend. Here is a taste of the horror that awaits for when it isn't 3 a.m. and I have a little time to write:

too late for too long

Pipeline thick, huge

"Hey, what the fuck man? You missed it!" Ya, I know. It is pretty clear there is no blood return.

"Shit man, I ain't got time for this. Come on. You only gonna try one more time. Then I'm going upstairs. I don't care about your tests."

"O.K. Relax, I will try the other arm. I don't try more than twice anyway. Then I get another nurse."

"What's going on? You can see the vein. Just get it done."

Breathe, focus. Switch to the other arm. The first three inmates didn't exactly go easy and now I am a little hyped up. First guy I only stuck once. Didn't even try a second time. Ruined veins, diabetic. Second one bled, oh ya. A real gusher. The blood hit the back of the vacutube with an audible force. Only problem was it didn't stop. Blood running down his arm, blood on the tray, blood on the floor. Blood on the bench. This stuff gets everywhere.

"Uh, you know I got Hep C, right?" Well, I do now. Follow the standard precautions and it is safe. Still kinda slows you down though. God. How did this blood get everywhere?

Third one is the same thing. River of blood down the forearm. To slow with the gauze I guess. Another blood bath. And I know the draw is for an HIV test, he doesn't have to tell me anything. Again, clean up. One more patient left.

He walks in, 210 pounds, 5'10. No fat. Veins are bigger than mine if you can believe it. I once had a nurse claim she could start an I.V. on me at a distance of 5 feet. I guess my range is a little closer.

"The vein rolled man."

"Yah, I know. I am just going to try one more time."

"Well this time, go here. I been getting this done for 12 years."

"O.K. I will. Hey, you should be a nurse. You have all this experience."

"Really, You think so?"

"Yah, man. Hold on. One, two, three." Needle goes in bevel up. I stabilize the needle while pushing the vacutube into the port. Blood flies in. Sweet. Now just one more to go. The shakes start up though. I have an over active sympathetic nervous system and somewhere in this interaction a ton of norepinephrine got dumped into my veins. I try to keep the needle perfectly still while pulling off the vacutube. I hand it to the inmate. Jesus, he has to see me shaking. Hell even feel it. Just reach for the next tube. Stabilize. Push it on the hub. Blood flash.

Phew.

"Alright, you can go."

"O.K." The inmate walks off. He turns to the deputy. "Hey Dep. You think I could be a nurse?

"Nah, you ain't got the bedside manner."

I was being serious, though. Can't everyone be nice to sick 70 year old ladies? I was just an asshole blowing his blood draw. I guess the criminal record might hurt his chances with the nursing boards, though...

Outdated

So it seems this blog is quickly becoming meaningless. Not only does Anna have another blog, this whole student nurse thing is tied down as well. I thought maybe I could bring a new perspective. Nope, the experience has been condensed into an elegant and comprehensive comic book.

Feast your eyes:









You should see the cross-over when Linda and Gertie the Social Worker join forces to take down Magneto. Hype shit man.

the rusty kind of pain

So it is a litle embarrassing how much I spent on my bike wheel. It had to happen. I mean it was sunny. And it is a pretty hot bike. So I needed to get the hot wheel.

Jake: So this one is more expensive? Is it lighter?
Bike Dude: Well a little lighter, but that is not what we think about with this wheel. This one is stiffer.

Hmmm, stiffer. Instant torque application. Teh Badnezzz.

So, I took the bike out. First day. 25 miles. Pretty quick. Not slouching, but not housing shit either. Next day, sunny again, no class, no work. Just a bunch of hills west of Madison taunting me with their very existence.

First 15 miles were straight into the wind. Uphill. Trudging at 16 miles an hour. I didn't expect much. Ouch, this hurts. The hard kind of pain.

Hadn't really tested the wheel yet. Then I found some fellow riders. One guy on a Litespeed Titanium bike. Drafted on him at 18 miles an hour, got my strength back and passed him doing 21.

Mile 25 hit me and I started to feel tired again. The climbs were slow, the music in the Ipod a little subdued. I wind my way back to Madison. County K. A nice road, valleys and hills. Trucks pass, but the shoulder is ample, a comforting ride back.

Then 5 miles out of Madison the shoulder ends. Not only does it end, but there is a 6 inch drop off from the asphalt into gravel. Nowhere to ride but a foot into the road. The traffic picks up, delivery trucks due to Madison. Nowhere, but forward. The hammer comes down. Cruising speed is 28 miles per hour, courtesy of multi-ton truck drafting. Climb the hills at 21, descent at 38. Just get me off this road.

Today I weighed myslef. 1.5 pounds down. Could have been the ride. Could dehydration from the 5 hours of post ride drinking. Nothing better to help recover. Have to thin the blood, see?




the calm before the storm



the hills

A new threat

In a frightening escalation in the arms race of Anna's affection there has been a new blog created:
http://iloveannatoosothere.blogspot.com/
What's more is that it has been updated daily for the last three days. Problematic to say the least. I am now investigating my different media options. Perhaps a mass community flyering, impromptu blue grass collaboration with Willie Nelson, or maybe some sort of arrangement with carrier pigeons is necessary to put down this upstart.