FINALLY A FINALIST

The year started on a low note. Classes were quater to half full compared to second year where classes  were too full. The year would be a joy ride, we thought. Very few things were taken very seriously. I can't rember attending the first several classes, but in the end I acquired momentum.
I just want to recal afew things that traspired through the year. An encounter with the no nonsense, all or none theatre nurse call her madam Lilian. I remember her explaining the role of a scrub nurse..."The surgion told me hold here, I did. Then hold here, I did. Now with both hands I did the holding. Then he told me, give me a curved artery...seriously!!, am I an octopus??, I asked...prais the Lord"
Then came...the mental health nurse, Carpenito, Nanda, Author wa Manual, Nursing process, NCK Mwenyewe. I'll call her The lady in a pegiot. "Now this school is funny..do they know I'm not a renal nurse?, now give me three priority
Nursing diagnosis according to carpenito..." I wish I could use her voice tone to write this.
Then another mental health case, this guy should be in mathari. Should I call him Anto? Yes. This is the only guy who managed to teach 706, I mean seven hundred and six slides in one lecture, DSM4, DSM4-TR, DSM5, DSM.., ICD10. I guess he has Fucktitious disorder, F*** with an 'A' not a 'U' idiot or maybe he has trikisdecaphobia or maybe echolalia or I think he has no insight. But above all, he makes life very simple "....a good lady like Chege can't fail you. But  kwa medsurg, kuna ma sadists..."
Then here come Dr Bilasio..this guy has verbal diarrhoea plus circumstantiality and tangentiality. He teaches like Ten Teachers. His classes did not end untill they ended. "...you must be a profisient midwife. When you see any pervaginal bleeding, NO DIGITAL EXAM. Before I get far, I recall this new comer in the staffroom. I guess the anatomist who defined the gynaecoid pelvis used her as an example. She changed the mood in every obs class. I rember her saying that to much exercise can cause amenorrhea. I feel we should try that as method of family planning. 30 laps every morning, lunch time and evening, then you'll not need all these hormones in the name of contraceptives. That's my research topic next year. The year was full of drama each day. Ranging from signing for 8 lectures in one sitting, lecturers who could not speak but now they have pHDs to assignments that were never found in books nor google or wikipedia. Whether you went to class with bottoms up or in a bamako initiative, the comumity health lectures would not happen. Then came the ISO, this was the climax. Drama ensued afterwards and so much had to happen. Then letters were written and the boss herself had to come to class to cool the furnase. Before I leave the classroom comedy I cannot foget the rural folk, who came to teach but instead saw stars after an encounter with the lady in black. Then came this man who made me say "...please teacher may I go to the toilet" nkt nkt, by the way I didn't take that kindly. With all the pendagogy, he still aforded to give us 88 paged pdf that sent some of us into a vigil revision mode. Then came this Clinical psychologist...this man was just so amazing. Can't describe him much........ Whatch out for part two

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YOU ARE NOT A MONK

This is the best story I've ever read..........
A man is driving down the road and
breaks down near a monastery. He goes
to the monastery, knocks on the door,
and says, “My car broke down.Do you
think I could stay the night?”The monks
graciously accept him, feed him dinner,
and even fix his car. As the man falls
asleep that night, he hears a strange
sound. The next morning, he asks the
monks what the sound was.”We can’t tell
you. You’re not a monk” they
respond.The man is disappointed but
thanks them anyway and continues on his
trip.Several years later the same man
breaks down in front of the same
monastery. The monks again accept him,
feed him, and even fix his car.That night,
he hears the same strange noise that he
had heard years earlier.The next morning
he again asks what it is, and again the
monks reply,”We can’t tell you. You’re
not a monk.” The man says, “All right, all
right.I’m dying to know. If the only way I
can find out the source of that sound is to
become a monk, tell me how do I
become amonk?” “You must travel the
earth and tell us how many blades of
grass there are and the exact number of
sand pebbles.When you find these
numbers, you will becom a monk,” they
reply. The man sets about his task.Many
years later he returns and knocks on the
door of the monastery. “I have traveled
the earth and have found what you asked
for. There are145,236,284,232 blades of
grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand
pebbles on the earth.””Congratulations!”
the monks reply. “You are now a monk.
We will now show you the way to the
sound.”The monks proceed to lead the
man to a wooden door, where the
headmonk says, “The sound is behind that
door.”The man reaches for the knob, but
cannot open it because the door is
locked.”Really funny,” he says,”May I
have the key please?”The monks give him
the key and he opens the door. Behind
the wooden door is another door made of
stone. The monks give him the key to this
door too, and he opens it-only to find a
door made of ruby. He asks for,and
receives another key from the monks.
But behind that door is another door, this
one made of sapphire. On and on this
went until the man had gone through
doors of emerald, silver, topaz,and
amethyst. Finally the man is relieved to
hear the monks say, “This is the last key
to the last door.”He unlocks the door,
turns the knob, and behind that door he is
amazed to find the source of that strange
sound.
But I can’t tell you what it is because
you’re not a monk.