The date is set! October 21st, 2008, I take the trip to Toronto to take the practical examination (aka OSCE) set by the College of Massage Therapists of Ontario. The other exam is written, and I can't register for it until 2 weeks before my graduation. That one isn't such a rush though because you can write it at many different locations across the country. For the OSCE there are only 7 spots available for each time, and everyone has to go to Toronto to do it. It fills up fast.
So that's it. October 21st, I'll be doing the big exam. I'm already exited.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Neurology Does Not Spell "Good Time"
Tomorrow I have a neurology exam. As of now I can draw the major neurological pathways (aka: plexus...es? plexi?) of the body and name the innervation of almost every single muscle in the body. Even the tiny ones that nobody really cares about. We don't have to learn the ones for the face. I'm not sure really why that distinction is made. I know the innervations for the itty bitty neck muscles, and for the various parts of private anatomy, but the face? Don't need to know it.
Of course, one could argue that I don't need to know any of these at all! I mean really, what are the odds that someone is going to show up in my massage clinic complaining that they can't contract their deltoid to lift the arm? Surely if someone has noticed that they can't lift their arm or contract the muscle at all then they would be talking to their doctor about it, not their massage therapist. And if someone does come to me with that problem, or I happen to notice it during a routine shoulder massage, say, then do I really have to be able to tell them that the problem likely stems from the axillary nerve of the brachial plexus originating from the lower cervical vertebrae?
Ah, no. In fact, I'm not qualified to give them any kind of diagnosis so even if that did happen and even if I did know what nerve was affected I would still be forced to say "I'm thinking that their might be something neurologically wrong here and I'm going to recommend that you see your GP about this". So what is the freaking point?
The answer: to pass the provincial board exams.
So off I go to stuff my brain with more muscle-nerve associations so that I can pass the board exams, become an RMT, and forget all about the brachial plexus.
Of course, one could argue that I don't need to know any of these at all! I mean really, what are the odds that someone is going to show up in my massage clinic complaining that they can't contract their deltoid to lift the arm? Surely if someone has noticed that they can't lift their arm or contract the muscle at all then they would be talking to their doctor about it, not their massage therapist. And if someone does come to me with that problem, or I happen to notice it during a routine shoulder massage, say, then do I really have to be able to tell them that the problem likely stems from the axillary nerve of the brachial plexus originating from the lower cervical vertebrae?
Ah, no. In fact, I'm not qualified to give them any kind of diagnosis so even if that did happen and even if I did know what nerve was affected I would still be forced to say "I'm thinking that their might be something neurologically wrong here and I'm going to recommend that you see your GP about this". So what is the freaking point?The answer: to pass the provincial board exams.
So off I go to stuff my brain with more muscle-nerve associations so that I can pass the board exams, become an RMT, and forget all about the brachial plexus.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Sigh
At my college each term is responsible for fund-raising enough money to have an after grad party. The college pays for the ceremony and the location, but if we want a dinner and dance, we have to cough up our own dough. Fair enough. Every term fund-raises throughout their time at the college in order to do this. Bear that in mind.
Scene: my term's fund-raising pancake breakfast. I am flipping pancakes at a bar line of griddles. Students are walking through, filling up plates and either staying or exiting to eat.
Enter Large Bossy Blonde who proceeds to make announcement of another term's fund-raising valentines. Exit Large Bossy Blonde.
30 minutes pass. Pancakes continue to be sold.
Re-enter LBB. Further loud announcements of the other fundraiser. From the location of the griddle I speak loudly:
"Have you bought any pancakes?"
"No. I'm on a diet. That's why."
I resume flipping. LBB leaves. The breakfast wraps up. We clean up. We go to our next class. I get hauled out of class by Super Student Services Lady. She feels she needs to have a talk with me about professionalism in the school. She heard a report that I was snappish and rude with one of the other students. She stresses that if I'm going to make a humorous remark that I need to ensure that it is more obviously humorous so as to not offend people. She restates the policy that more than one term can fund raise at the same time as long as it is not the same activity. She expresses how shocked she was that this report came against me since I'm so sweet. (The college only has 100 students, max - this woman knows me personally.)
Her sweetness is false, put-on, and stickily uncomfortable.
I want to squirm away.
It may be true that the college I attend has a fantastic reputation for graduates passing the provincial board exams, but I am becoming increasingly unimpressed with the amount of bureaucratic pickle-up-the-ass red tape. I mean, come on people. That was in no way aggressive or nasty. I said it with a smile on my face and in a friendly tone. If she's going to come into our fundraiser to try to get money for her term, then surely I have a right to ask her to contribute to ours! Yet student services comes and reprimands me without even pausing to consider my perspective? And is this going on my record?
Sigh.
Scene: my term's fund-raising pancake breakfast. I am flipping pancakes at a bar line of griddles. Students are walking through, filling up plates and either staying or exiting to eat.
Enter Large Bossy Blonde who proceeds to make announcement of another term's fund-raising valentines. Exit Large Bossy Blonde.
30 minutes pass. Pancakes continue to be sold.
Re-enter LBB. Further loud announcements of the other fundraiser. From the location of the griddle I speak loudly:
"Have you bought any pancakes?"
"No. I'm on a diet. That's why."
I resume flipping. LBB leaves. The breakfast wraps up. We clean up. We go to our next class. I get hauled out of class by Super Student Services Lady. She feels she needs to have a talk with me about professionalism in the school. She heard a report that I was snappish and rude with one of the other students. She stresses that if I'm going to make a humorous remark that I need to ensure that it is more obviously humorous so as to not offend people. She restates the policy that more than one term can fund raise at the same time as long as it is not the same activity. She expresses how shocked she was that this report came against me since I'm so sweet. (The college only has 100 students, max - this woman knows me personally.)
Her sweetness is false, put-on, and stickily uncomfortable.
I want to squirm away.
It may be true that the college I attend has a fantastic reputation for graduates passing the provincial board exams, but I am becoming increasingly unimpressed with the amount of bureaucratic pickle-up-the-ass red tape. I mean, come on people. That was in no way aggressive or nasty. I said it with a smile on my face and in a friendly tone. If she's going to come into our fundraiser to try to get money for her term, then surely I have a right to ask her to contribute to ours! Yet student services comes and reprimands me without even pausing to consider my perspective? And is this going on my record?
Sigh.
Monday, February 4, 2008
And She's Job Hunting Again
I have incredible respect for people that work in the customer service industry. You know the ones. The people who put up with cranky customers who proclaim their rights to discounts and know all. The people who deal with an unstable work schedule, never sure if they will get 20 hours or 40 or 10. The people who handle supervisors and managers who angry and bitter and small. I have respect for these people. I am these people. I am also tired of being these people.
And that is why I started job hunting today. Today when my supervisor called to have me come in 4 hours early (with 20 minutes notice) - not to ASK me to come in, mind, but to TELL me to come in. When she was totally shocked that I had "dinner plans and couldn't do it" (never mind that my dinner plans were to make a salad, and watch Ellen). When she moaned and complained that her employees are unreliable. When I know that at 7pm tonight I will be standing there working beside her for 4 hours of her bitching and making passive aggressive comments (and I'm the employee she likes!)...
That's when I rewrote my resume. That's when I came up with a cover letter. That's when I sent in an online application to a local gym. That's when I made plans to go around to the other local gyms and hand in resumes there as well. Heck, I'm leaning all this anatomy and remedial exercise, I might as well be working in a place that is relevant! Just please, get me out of this food and beverage industry!
And that is why I started job hunting today. Today when my supervisor called to have me come in 4 hours early (with 20 minutes notice) - not to ASK me to come in, mind, but to TELL me to come in. When she was totally shocked that I had "dinner plans and couldn't do it" (never mind that my dinner plans were to make a salad, and watch Ellen). When she moaned and complained that her employees are unreliable. When I know that at 7pm tonight I will be standing there working beside her for 4 hours of her bitching and making passive aggressive comments (and I'm the employee she likes!)...
That's when I rewrote my resume. That's when I came up with a cover letter. That's when I sent in an online application to a local gym. That's when I made plans to go around to the other local gyms and hand in resumes there as well. Heck, I'm leaning all this anatomy and remedial exercise, I might as well be working in a place that is relevant! Just please, get me out of this food and beverage industry!
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