Tuesday, 30 September 2008


I've always had a strong respect for authority and figures of said thing. I was brought up by a strict patriarch which I'm sure has contributed to this, but society in general ("back in my day" etc. Ha) is approving of structure and the like. That's fine. When I was younger my respect perhaps bordered on the unhealthy, but only for a little while. As I've grown up and gained a massive sense of self-awareness this respect has been altered. Figures of authority can still gain a large amount of reverence and respect from me, if there is some shown in return. Maybe I've been listening to too much Rage Against the Machine, but I don't follow authority blindly anymore.

Whereas there are currently subjects and lecturers I enjoy, engage with and certainly respect, there are definite bits I do not. One of the male lecturers at my University is highly approachable, likeable, professional and academic. This is the sort of nurse I want to be in the future hence: respect. He speaks about physiology with a level of expertise I haven't seen in other lecturers, but still reminds us that the patient is key. Other lecturers are less engaging in this sense, and so my respect ebbs away.

This can land me in hot water.

I am a doodler, and a multi-tasker. I can read or draw and listen at the same time. Especially like, as in the lecture this morning, the same basic information was being used as a 4x2 to smash us over the head with. If I hear the words Immunisation and Primary Prevention reminded to me one more time I may scream. Anyway, after this quite brutal piece of non-independent learning, the lecturer gave us a 35 minutes break (we'd been in for 45 so far). Then we came back to do the old presentation-lather-rinse-repeat. Not interesting, and not innovative. To me, anyway.

To cut a long story short, I was asked for the inevitable 'word after class'. I was told that reading during a seminar and presentations was rude. For once, I backed down and emulated apology, saying I'd try to pay more attention next time. Invigorated by such victory, the lecturer asked me how I would've felt if they read a newspaper during my presentation. The truth is: I'd be pretty nonplussed (in fact, the lecturer said they would've read the Daily Mail which would've been rude but for several other reasons), but I couldn't be arsed with an arguement. The lecturer argued the book I was reading (Essential Endocrinology) wasn't even relevant. I was tempted to retort that endocrinology is vital in the areas of diabetes and reproduction we were discussing from a Health Promotion point of view, but felt pretty hungry. Happy with perceived victory, the lecturer left and I realised I've made one more antagonist. Amusingly so.

Sadly, I don't really care. I'm a damn good student nurse. My essays are passable even when I put in little effort, my presentation skills are second-to-none and - to put an utterly self-indulgent point on it - I'm only doing this diploma for the free money.

These acts keep me amused, which in itself is pathetic. Like I told the lecturer about something completely different: "I'm trying to cut down, honest,".

But I'm intellectually unstimulated. And have to tow the line of looking interested in students who have previously asked, despite supposedly having done a week's research about Coronary Heart Disease: "What's ischemia?" So I modify my behaviour, bit by bit. I know now that sitting in front at a seminar, especially with this particular lecturer, I will now feign interest whilst secretly playing Empire Strikes Back in my mind, akin to Homer Simpson. I can live with it.

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