Detours.

I love Monday nights driving back from swing dancing, and any nights that I get to drive through the city, weaving downtown on the interstate in between the skyscrapers and glowing lights.

It is magical. The city is a heart that beats, and I am part of the pulse that gives it life and light each day. My dreams, my life, my future and my past are entwined with this city. It's especially magical on nights like tonight, when the clouds hover low in the sky, covering the tall buildings in a foggy blanket. Clouds billow past the building tops. They lend the entire city an air of mysticality;  they turn it into an exquisite, beautiful, alluring thing from which I cannot take my eyes away.

And there am I - this one lone driver in a city of millions. I am living my new little life, going to school and running my small business and doing the little things that make me, me and making new relationships and reading books and... this is me. Yet I feel utterly, completely changed from life just a few short months ago. As I drove to work Friday, I was pondering life and thinking about the strange twists and turns that life has taken in just the course of a few weeks.

Of course, my life was completely turned upside down. Leaving the comfort of small-town Macon, I left the friends and people I loved, left the place I had come to know, with its comfortable nooks and crannies, for a place where I was for the first time in my life, utterly and truly alone.
And it was strange. Scary. Exhilarating.

I stepped out of my comfort zone, from a pond to an ocean.

And tonight, I feel like a lot of things and I feel a lot of things about my life. Lately one of the things that I have been thinking of a lot is that I feel as though I have been living in the dark for all of my life... without even realizing it. Physical Therapy school has changed my life in merely the course of the 7 weeks I have been here, and I cannot fathom how much more it will change me in the coming years. I am here not to train for a job, as the panelists at the Physical Therapy Association of Georgia meeting talked about on Saturday. I am here to mold myself, to create and shape myself for a profession. And a profession is not a mere job. It is an investment. It is getting involved in legislature, or making contacts with my fellow colleagues, or mentors or professionals in the field. It is molding myself into the shape of my highest ideals, and constantly refining what my ideals are, seeking better at every turn and angle. It is growing and bettering my mind, body and soul, for the betterment of myself and for others. It is for learning and pursuing knowledge for my field not just out of duty, but for passion and a longing for excellence. It is forming relationships, helping others and making impacts, all of which matter - no matter how big or how small. And once I learned to embrace this... I felt as though I knew that no matter the challenges I face here, that I have what it takes to excel. My name is Lacy Elizabeth Ball, and I can do this. I am going to be the best Physical Therapist that I can possibly make myself, no matter what it takes.

I am pushing myself to be brand new and all the same. I am going dancing for the first time in my life. I am changing the little things - from the way I walk in public to my posture to my observations of people in the grocery store. I am growing more comfortable in my own skin but still have a long way to go. I am recognizing my strengths (resiliency, passion, drive, balance) but pushing to improve on my weaknesses - (patience, accountability, worrying, communication ... so many other things).

What have I been doing all these years? Why do I feel as though I have been living in the dark? Because my eyes have been open more than they ever have before. To know the knowledge that I have been given in only my short time in graduate school so far makes me acutely aware of how far I have to go. But it also makes me realize what power this knowledge is giving me, to know and to do. How it shapes my actions and shapes my role in life. How it gives me responsibility to use it to better the world in whatever way is right. I am humbled and empowered all at the same time.

I feel as though I had taken a long detour these last few years. Sometimes I don't know the point. Sometimes I feel as though I've been wandering, but I know that there was a purpose to it all. There has to be. I feel alive like I never have before - I am the same, but I am different. The experiences of these last years have shaped me and molded me, have hurt me and built me up. They have shown me a life of colour I never imagined, brilliant and bold and vibrant even on the days that I feel down and the world is grey.
It is beautiful, every moment of it.

What I Learned This Week... That Doesn't Have to Do with Physical Therapy

I have learned a ton of stuff about Physical Therapy this week. I experienced what started to feel like the beginnings of the "it's all coming together *currently" mindset. I'm remembering how bones and muscles work. I can identify the nerves of the brachial plexus on our cadaver and contribute to the conversation confidently in class. We are doing a two-day Diabetes lecture series in Pharmacology as well as Endocrine System, which is kind of my "thing". I'm understanding how to move muscles to make them contract. To be more confident about palpating the body. I passed my first PT skills competency with a 95% in Goniometry, Manual Muscle Testing, Palpation and Special Tests of the shoulder.

Enter personal life. I cried this week. I had to take a "get out of town" mental health day Wednesday to try and get my mind back in the right place. Tuesday I drove home after my competency, turned on some music super loud, and sang with a cracking voice while tears dribbled down my face. Wednesday, as big as Atlanta was, I couldn't stomach being anywhere within the city that day. So, impractically I drove an hour and 15 minutes north up GA 400 to Dahlonega, a little town in the mountains with my favourite Mexican Restaurant and a bunch of cute stores. I walked around, more hobbled because my foot was blistered from swing dancing barefoot Monday (which I loved, by the way). I literally just sat in Starbucks and studied for my two exams the next day. But I had a chance to breath fresh mountain air, get a glimpse of the green mountains I love so much, see open blue sky and get out of bustling, hectic Atlanta for a little while.

It cleared my head. I'm so glad I did it.
I read the Bible a lot this week. I feel as though after a long time, I am back on track to forming a better, stronger relationship with God again.

Today, I found out I got an 85 and a 91 on two of my exams I took yesterday - which after a string of low C's, even D's and low B's in PT school so far, was a victory that really built me up. And I passed my anatomy quiz this morning.  (FYI: I totally crammed for some of those tests like my mother suggested, too, and studied the night before for anatomy). But I've been working my Anconeus off.

And it feels good, too. The weeks prior, I was very frustrated that despite my efforts, I could not seem to get good results. However, I told myself to work harder, not that I wasn't smart enough, and did my best to ingrain this in my brain. This week I spent hours upon hours practicing for my competency and hours studying for exams and working hard, and I have been blessed to see results.

Basically, this week I coped with a lot of victory, growth, loss, and sadness, and defeat. With so much to overcome, and so much I've already done, I feel a little more reinforced that if I work hard, I will be able to succeed as a PT. I feel that this is something truly in my grasp, not just something almost quite there that I'm struggling to keep up with. It's still hard, but when I remember how much this matters, to me and the people I will someday help, I remember that I can do this. God gave me that glimmer of positivity this week, and I'm rolling with it. I feel good. I feel prepared. I feel empowered.

But still, I am somber and hurting at the same time. Today I also found out that I am officially losing my health insurance October 31st. And I'm trying not to worry, but I'm scared. I'm really scared. I'm worried. I'm unsure. I'm upset.

So, what have I learned this week? Besides about the cubital fossa? Or how to do a Hawkin's-Kennedy special test?

A couple of things. I was reinforced that good friends and relationships are the key to keeping your hopes up from day to day. We humans are meant to be social, and to form relationships. They give us strength.

I remembered to pray, and pray all the time, and pray for so long that I forget what I am praying for. Thank God for everything. Praise him daily. Give him your worries, your joys. Constantly.

I learned that for every victory, there are defeats. I have certainly felt the wax and wane of victory and defeat this week, a tenuous balance that seems to have been exemplified ever so strikingly over the last few days. Personal triumphs and failures, failed quizzes and aced exams. Good and bad. Give and take.

I feel that I am becoming a stronger individual, and that finally God is giving me the confidence and preparedness to embrace and become the person he wants me to be. The person he planned me to be before I was ever even a thought - the person I will become for the experiences I will go on to have, the people I will go on to meet, the lives I will impact and lives that will impact me.

So, things in life are changing, are getting better, are ending, are beginning, are tumultuous. But then, I suppose they always are. How relative life is. It seems just to shift from week to week. All I can do is remember to remain calm, try not to worry, take time for myself , work hard and keep pushing forward in spite of the challenges.

After all, we live amidst a world of chaos. What is order but a different perception on chaos? Praying for strength, courage and perseverance for all that is currently happening and all that is to come.

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." - Jeremiah 33:3

Phenomenally Human

If there's anything major that I have learned since starting Graduate School, it's that I am utterly, completely and phenomenally human. I am flawed, I am tired, I need to work harder to improve my results. Aware of my perceived limits more than ever, I have tried, I have experienced failure, discouragement and I have pushed myself to be better than ever before. And it's hard - with seven classes on my plate plus working parties on weekends, life is much like it was during undergrad, only completely different. My life seems to literally revolve around school. I have to set certain times of week to take breaks from studying, otherwise I will literally just go to school, come home or go to a coffee shop and study all the time.

So, one of those set times just so happens to have become every Monday night at 8 PM. Last week I sought out swing dancing events in Atlanta, only to stumble upon Georgia Tech's Swing Dancing Association's Swing Night. I arrived, a little late, in the large ballroom at 9PM that night for an hour of lessons and my very first experience doing any kind of structured dance outside of the Chicken Dance and Cha Cha Slide. Awkward and with seemingly two left feet, my friend Chelsea and I practiced in the large room, switching from partner to partner, counting out 6 counts, rock steps and inside-outside turns. Then, at 10 we were released on the dance floor with the other dancers. I was a little nervous, but the experience levels were all varying. I didn't feel so bad, then. I discovered that all of the leads were different - hence I danced a little differently - learned to better hold my frame, pay attention to pressure and be parallel to my partner. I loved to spin around, even if I had a little trouble counting out my steps on occasion. After 3 hours I was left sweaty, heart rate up, blistered feet, sore calves and with a blood sugar of 60 from being on my toes almost nonstop. I was exhilarated. Craving more, the following Monday I attended Hot Jam Swings in Atlanta, hosted every Monday in a cozy cabin in the middle of Buckhead. It is a delightfully rustic, close-quartered room surrounded by trees where people dance until late in the night. It's an awesome way to unwind on a Monday, and there is some incredible talent there.

And so, it turns out that swing dancing is quick becoming a love of mine. I discovered with it, a way to relieve stress and tension. It was amazing therapy. I felt free, unburdened and unworried when I could dance and forget my troubles. It was amazing! Those too-brief moments when I dance, I can block out the world and I feel such a rush of elation and joy, it makes me want to go back and dance every night. Every Monday will have to suffice. It's also great blood sugar regulation, too. ;)

So, in short, I have been trying to coach myself out of being stressed from school and all of the things I have to do. To take walks, exercise, rock climb, dance, call people on the phone, write blogs and poetry, go to the park (never often enough)... to live in spite of school, not just trying to hold myself above the swiftly moving current that is the heavy grad school workload.

 If anything, it gives my imperfect, stretched slightly too thin, Diabetic, flawed, very phenomenally human self a way to recharge and press on through the rest of the week. And it shows me what an incredibly delightful, joyful experience that dancing can be - what a joy it is to discover these little things in my life here in Atlanta.

Enchanted.

Between all of the gloomy and morose blogs that I have posted lately, I thought it might be nice to post this blog as sort of a disclaimer. Just to say, that truly, despite everything:

I am more enchanted with life than I feel I've ever been.

I think that I've had to do a lot of growing to say that. These past few years, I have loved where I was in life. Truly. I also didn't know what was awaiting me  here in this big, grand adventure that has become Atlanta. Moving to Atlanta has been one of the big events in my life that is among the most important. Thinking back on the last couple of years, I can summarize the most important events of my life into just a few short bullet points:

- Starting gymnastics
- choosing to homeschool
- enrolling at Smith Prep (homeschool school)
- going to VSO Summer Camp in 2008
- being diagnosed with Diabetes
- choosing Mercer for PT school

All of these events have, in some way, shaped the course of my life. Gymnastics introduced me to some of my best friends - that I still have today. Gymnastics introduced my mother to the homeschool community, which introduced me to it, by extension. Gymnastics led to my decision to homeschool, which shaped my education... and introduced me to more amazing  people, while developing my love for learning and strong relationship with God in the meantime. Smith Prep introduced me to the very best friends that I would have, even to this day. Smith Prep introduced me to my friend Erica, who implored me to go to VSO camp that summer on the very last day of school, which gave me ties to Macon, which introduced me to Wesleyan. Living in Macon gave me my first  taste of spreading my wings away from home, implored me to start a business, helped me to grow, and helped me to again appreciate the place from which I came - Orlando, which I had been so ready to leave as a highschooler. Diabetes changed my personality and gave me something big to stand for. It taught me how to fight and reminded me of why I appreciate life. Diabetes, believe it or not, even prompted conversations with people that have led to incredible relationships. And choosing Mercer, finally, even though I didn't think for a time that I would get in - that experience in itself humbled me, and beginning at Mercer has helped me to learn to embrace change. It is helping me to experience a bigger and brighter world than I ever would have been able to imagine on my own.


Atlanta is changing me. I am realizing what an immense place the world is. I can't imagine currently living anywhere else. I am realizing that Wesleyan taught me about myself, but now is time to truly shape myself and embrace the life I am living. To embrace new experiences, and go with the flow, and grow up into the person that I am supposed to be.

Before moving here, I thought I would hate it. All you have to do is read my posts to see how much I was worried about this move. I thought the city would be too big, would make me feel too lonely. But the contrary happened - this city has so many niches, so many secret places, I have just the mix of social interaction and introvertedness my psyche needs. I have discovered my favourite nooks, new coffee shops, little parks no one knows about. I can ride my bike around the park, try new shops with every outing, discover new friends and be myself without facing judgement in a city so big that self expression is as natural as breathing. In this city, life is happening everywhere, and you don't have to force yourself to fit in anywhere There is so much here that there is a place for everyone. I feel at home. I feel at peace. I feel brand new.

And I love life, so much, for every perfect and imperfect facet that it is.

A Pretty Old Soul, For Only 20 Years.

I am sitting in a coffee shop in Decatur, and an elderly man I was talking to in line just bought my cup of coffee for me before smiling and walking out the door. I smile at this small act of kindness - I feel that God has been especially kind to me the last two days, to make up for the terrible and down week I've been feeling like I've had.

In truth, I'm really discouraged. I've been exceedingly discouraged, and wasn't sure how to express that on my last blog post. I feel ashamed, actually, because I almost feel as though, at 20, I have more pressure on me to be smart and pass things, to prove that I am good enough to be in Grad School. But...I feel as though I am drowning in PT school. I am trying my hardest, but I feel as though I'm learning the muscles slower than everyone, I got my first 80 in 7 years on a paper (in case you didn't know.... I kind of consider writing my forte...) and I'm not getting stellar grades on my quizzes. Goniometry sounds kind of like an STD (teach me how to Goni!), and the grades of Manual Muscle Testing seem so subjective that I don't know what to assign them to. 3? 2+? 4-? Seriously?
Actually, the only things I really seem to "get" are pharmacology and everything Diabetes related which, thank God, is actually quite a lot. I'm pretty good at skin too, but everything on the quizzes seems to be about planes of motion and is it a conVEX on a conCAVE or the opposite way around. P.S., subscapularis inserts on the crest of the lesser tubercle of the humerus, not the inferior facet of the greater tubercle, and yes, there is a difference, because I got it wrong on the god**** anatomy quiz that I spent half the night studying for.

So now that I've finished speaking what sounds like mumbo jumbo to any of my non-PT friends, what here is my point? Well, ladies and gentleman, I am very much human and my emotions have run wild the last few days. Between my personal life and quizzes and worrying about non being smart enough for PT school, Friday I walked out in the hallway after anatomy and just started bawling. Everyone treated me really nicely for the rest of the day and my friend Robert sat me down for what actually turned out to be a very helpful coming-to-Jesus talk, but it was rough, and so Friday evening my friend Chelsea and I escaped to Little Five Points where I attempted to nurse the fragile pieces of my self efficacy back to functional level. I've felt more down than I have in a while, and my blood sugar has been pretty wonky the last 4 days, too, higher than I want it to be again - I'm chalking it up to stress, though really I don't know why I've been eating breakfast and coming back at 250 and then 327 even after bolusing for a protein shake. Breakfast is usually my worst time of day blood sugar wise, and I got so angry Friday about my sugars that I rage bolused (give myself x amount of insulin just to bring it down ---> leads to subsequent string of lows) that I was low for the rest of the afternoon and had a mini breakdown in applied anatomy again after my third low and feeling as though my brain was sufficiently frazzled. Saturday, despite having a hectic day of 4 parties, helped get my mind off things, and getting to "sleep in" until 8:30 today was really swell, too. My roommate Hans and I chatted over the kitchen counter a little and I felt brighter about things again.

And so, now, I'm sitting in the coffee shop --- hoping I won't be down again for a while, and doing all I can to take it easy and not feel overwhelmed. I feel old. I feel like an outsider to my own life sometimes. All my life, I've been me. And by "me" I mean I feel as though I am not quite genuine enough to be a stellar-ly sweet person, but not quite genius enough to be smart enough to fit in with that crowd, either. I'm not blessed with incredible social skills, even, I'm just an introvert that has managed a business so long that I can mimic extroverted-ness enough to seem like I know what I am doing. I like to study a little but too much, I am kind of nerdy, I listen to weird electronic music (and quite frankly, everything else), I sing off-key, my definition of a good book usually ranges from fiction to intense political theory, and I'm not even old enough to drink. I am a 20 year old thrown into the life of someone much older, feeling too old to connect with most people my age but too young for most people to take me seriously. Most of my friends are 24/25 because that's just who I connect with, but I'm still stuck in the awkward "am I an adult or teen" phase. The answer is I am very much an adult, but at the same time I feel as though I missed out on a lot of my teen years, albeit voluntarily. I just never quite fit in to the teen years either, so I let those skim by.

Ooh, I don't know quite what I am supposed to be, in short. I am an old soul, and I guess I have to embrace this weird, slightly outsider life that I have been given. Observe, not quite be a part of, the world, except for the few souls I manage to find a genuine connection with, and I am so thankful for them.

As I approach my 21st birthday, I will look back and I think that I will be pleased with how far I've come, but there are still a lot of questions left unanswered that I have yet to discover. That's what makes life a journey, no?

Refining.

It is a rainy morning in Atlanta, and I find I am struggling between allowing my life to fit into the structure of a new routine, and reveling of the newness of it all. Class runs about 8-4 or 5 most days, with no class on Wednesdays. On the weekends, I work parties, some weekends more than others. I am actually very surprised at how "normal" life seems here. Graduate school is a more academically intense and rigorous place than undergrad ever was, but more than being intimidating (which is still is) 1. Life is, surprisingly, going on normal as usual and 2. it really just makes me feel like I just spent the last 3 years of my undergraduate career in a repeat of high school.

I still have time for activities, phone calls and exercise. If anything, I am living in a more structured way, so while writing is about all I have time for as far as an outlet (and physical exercise), I feel I am living more efficiently. More than anything, Graduate school is a whole-self and whole-life transformation. I am different. I am becoming different. Undergraduate was a rather sloppily, beautifully thrown together mix of things such as "discovering who I am" and "growing confident with myself" and "putting myself out there". It was a honing of who I am as an individual and an opportunity to explore, connect and discover new passions, people, options, adventures and routes.

Graduate school is different in that respect. It is definitely a more "mature" setting. People are here for a much more specific purpose, a subset of life that we have all chosen to devote our lives to. We are passionate about it. We vary in our knowledge of this career. There is a sense of cohesiveness among my classmates that undergrad, where everyone had their own major and did their own thing, never had. And I feel like where undergraduate school and graduate school are both opportunities to refine myself, such as something being welded - that undergraduate was the opportunity to be shaped and have a good outline of what I will become - whereas in graduate school, I have already been shaped into a "draft" - and now it is time to be re-refined, and to remove and smooth out the imperfections.
Graduate school is a place to perfect one's concept of who they are, truly. Graduate school pushes your limits. It makes you realize how little you know, on one hand, and that you know more than you think.

And oh, am I in the process of discovering this.

I am more than ever aware of my age and my young years, but at the same time, we all seem to be on such even playing ground that I forget this. I feel that these first few weeks I have been swimming faster than the current one moment, and the next a wave crashes over me and I am struggling to stay afloat. I know so little! I am shocked at all of the information that there is to learn, and I'll admit that studying doesn't seem to come as easy as it used to. Sometimes I second guess if I selected the right career. Am I smart enough? Everyone else seems to know so much more than I. But I feel that if I continue on and push past this, that the burning in my arms and legs from swimming this heavy current will subside and I will grow stronger in the process. Now is the time to rise to the challenge. And I have my strengths, too. My gymnastics background helps me. I have a good knowledge of drugs and diabetes and skin and body mechanics. I have so much to learn, but now is the time to let my thoughts take the backseat and set my doubts aside and realize what the human mind is capable of. To hone my study techniques and apply myself adequately. To learn to still live and enjoy experiences and go on trips even when I am busy to allow myself a break. Just because I am very busy with school, doesn't mean that I can't enjoy life - this isn't just graduate school and the means to an end, but this is an experience, this is the next beautiful, wonderful and incredible 3 years of my life. I can try new things, I can learn an impossible amount of knowledge, and I can learn, with guidance, to push myself harder, to become a better professional and to fulfill my dreams. Graduate school is not a means to an end at all - it is a gateway to the rest of my life!

And truly, I am learning so much. I am struggling to learn the muscles and their origins, insertions and innervations - but I study every opportunity I can and I am learning the information and I will continue to push myself to be all that I can be and succeed. I will succeed. There is no other option.

I am refining myself. I decided when graduate school started that enough was enough, and it was as simple as that. I was going to get my sugars in order and lower my A1C from the 7.4% that it last was. I am aiming for under 7 next time or in the next 6 months, and I am determined to succeed. I have lowered the number of instances over 200 mg/dL drastically. I still have some bad days, but I am refining my treatment, making notes of my meal and insulin effects on my calendar, eating healthily and though I am low sometimes as a result, I am learning so much and I feel like I am finally taking the reigns over control of my Diabetes again after living in a fog so long of never knowing if my sugar will be high, low or just right when I test. Now I usually know exactly what to expect, I test more often, and I have started exercising more so I have been able to lower my Lantus by 3 units every day - not a huge amount but still a big deal. When you exercise more and keep the amount of sugar down in your blood more regularly, it becomes more easy to manage blood glucose and it requires you typically need less insulin. I have to stress that I have not been entirely perfect, but I am doing better than I have in a very long time.

I am learning about myself. (I am green according to the True Color's Test we took in class). Realizing the things that drive me, that motivate me - my love for and endless pursuit of intellect and knowledge, when I feel deeply, and how to be patient and effectively control my emotions - letting them have their say without setting them aside, but allowing to function in sync with them, effectively no matter what I am feeling, too. Because I feel a lot of things - a lot of sadness, joy, hurt, heartache - but life presses on, and I have to learn to let myself feel these things without bottling them up but not let them interfere with the tasks at hand. This is a difficult thing to do but I guess it is also a sign that I am growing older.

I feel young, but I feel old for my 20 years. I see details that people do not see. I see the man at the rock climb gym scaling the wall impressively, but really what I notice is the man climbing the rock wall as a new tattoo because he keeps scratching the ink. I see the cadaver lying on the table, but really the first thing that my eye is drawn to is the faded tattoo on the underside of his arm. I hear pieces of conversations I was not supposed to hear and I piece together stories and histories very easily. I see someone's drivers license when they pull it out, and my mind files away their birthday because it remembers it without trying to. There is beauty in seeing what more there is aside from the surface, as the world holds so many answers if we only remember that we are meant to ask questions and take the time to look. People have answers - we have answers - without even being aware that we do, we must channel a greater depth of ourselves and allow ourselves a sort of transcendence, a within and without from this world, the ability to see close and step back and let the thoughts settle so that we can analyze what we see and feel. I am not very in sync with my own nonverbal emotions and truly, I struggle with taking the immense things that I feel and think and translating them into something conveyable to the world - I am at a disconnect with my emotions sometimes - but progress is being made and I am learning that through understanding the key things that drive me, that I will better be able to channel my strengths and improve on my weaknesses.

To notice - observe - listen - feel - understand - we have important tasks as individuals, a right we owe both to ourselves and to this world. I am learning to grow in this transcendence of myself and reach new heights of knowledge, emotions, understanding and channel abilities I never realized I had. I am strong, I am able, I am ready.

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

"Is That For Real Or Are You Just Paranoid?"

I had the strangest CPR class experience on Sunday.
CPR is required to be a PT student at Mercer - I received instructions for matriculation rather late into the summer, and in my haste signed up for a free first aid CPR class offered by the local fire station in Macon. Thinking that I was set for the next two years, I began class at Mercer... only to find out that I had neglected a small piece of fine print on the CPR directions:

"Only BLS for healthcare providers CPR will be accepted."

And so, $65 later, I found myself enrolled in BLS for healthcare providers. I breezed through the online test (Considering I had *ahem* already taken the same...exact...test...) and found myself Sunday morning at the physical location of where my CPR exam would be.

In about 5 minutes, I had gotten out of the car, made friends with a blonde girl who looked equally as lost and sketched-out as I, and learned that Kacey was a 1st year PT student at Emory. There was a hobo sleeping on the sidewalk and we couldn't find an open entrance to the building. After calling the CPR company number we discovered that the instructor was running behind, so we waited until a man came running up in green scrubs with an "Atlanta CPR" label embroidered on the back and opened the door. About 5 other people shuffled in at about the same time and we sat in small wooden desks inside the CPR exam room, which was just a room in an office building filled with dummies of various sizes and breathing masks.

About 2 minutes in I noted that we had a rather vivacious CPR instructor who spent about 20 minutes of the allotted hour highlighting his life, from his divorce to the woman who had hit on him a couple of months ago, to his early experiences as a male nurse.

"You're PT? He laughed at Kasey and I. Oh, so I should go easy on you, because PT's don't do any work, isn't that right - ha - ha!"

I was not amused, and I imagine Kasey was not, either.

The test finally proceeded, and I was rather relieved to discover that the exam was not individual - we did everything together as a group - and I am fairly sure there was no actual way to fail the exam (I'll admit I had been getting a little stage fright prior to this exam, worrying I'd forget how many times I'm supposed to do the Heimlich maneuver before lowering a patient to the ground to perform CPR and breaths).

Towards the end of the class, after the CPR instructor seemed to have hit on about 2 of the 5 women in the class, and after he had demonstrated literally punching a dummy in the chest. "Was that two inches?!?" he asked.

It was finally time to conclude this test, and I pulled out my meter. I tested to reveal a 90 mg/dL much to my delight.
Mr. CPR instructor came over just then, and in a booming voice, asked,

"Is that for real  or are you just paranoid?"

I stared at him for a second, tilting my head, perplexed. "Uhh.... no, it's real. I'm Type 1."

CPR Instructor went on. "Because, you know, a LOT of healthcare providers get paranoid that they are catching whatever their patients have! You treat a patient with an ankle injury and next thing you know, you wake up and have one! HA!"

I stared at him some more. "Were that it only a figment of my imagination, except it's not," I retorted a little snidely.

"So what are you? HIGH or LOW?" he asked obnoxiously.
"90,"  I remarked proudly.

"OOH, hear that class, Lacy is 90! WOW! Stellar Diabetic, STELLAR!" I laughed a little, shaking my head, wishing I could just get my CPR card and leave. Finally, about 20 minutes later (and 20 minutes after we were supposed to leave, I finally filed out of the cramped room with my $65 BLS healthcare provider card, shaking off the weird experience as just another "strange Atlanta thing."

The things I do to be a PT.