text: “Scanning techniques: Identify target vein. Reevaluate to confirm anatomy and pathology. Draw a line of the vein on the skin. Some physicians want 5-10 cm intervals indicated to assist with anesthesia introduction. Keep the room warm to prevent vasospasm.” The professor mumbled. I am trying my hardest to stay present. I am trying my hardest to focus on the material and not the monotonicity, boring, slow, unenergetic, and just old-fashioned delivery of the instructor. There has to be a better way for us to learn this stuff. “Image guidance during procedure: Access. Placement of instrumentation. Perivenous anesthesia. Thermal treatment. Post treatment,” he tamely drummed on. Reading word for word from the PowerPoint. This is so painful. This is important information. Midterms are in two weeks and my goal is to do well, obviously, enough to have a comfortable cushion for the second half of the semester. But listening to him present the information is harder than memorizing it. I think it would be easier if the sound of his voice was anything else but sheep jumping over fences to my ears. The dullness is briefly interrupted by the clicking-on of the A/C system. Which is terrible news. It is 58 degrees outside. Hoodie weather. And we are not even allowed to wear hoodies inside due to the school dress codes. Here come the goosebumps. I feel them start at the lumbar. They quickly travel up my spine to my shoulders, causing me to do the shimmy. I swear they, the people in charge, want us to freeze to death. My attempt to focus on the information that is currently being excruciatingly provided to us is now replaced with focusing all my blood to move towards the important parts of my body, so I don’t die of hypothermia. Ugh. There go my fingers. C’mon blood. Do your thing. Luckily, I sit next to this giant window. An escape of sorts. A whole row of windows line the entire length of the exterior wall in the classroom. It is easy for me to get lost in the scenery of day-to-day life outside. A team of landscapers mow, edge, blow, and sweep their way through the courtyard. Something they do every Monday. Judging by the efficiency of their work, they know what they are doing. I hope they get paid enough. The parking lot is a little less full today than any normal Monday. I bet some students partied a little too hard this weekend. Lucky for them. Maybe some are sick. Unlucky for them. Either way, they are not here. The family of squirrels in the large cypress tree in the front garden seem to be quite active today. Looking around, I just realized that the front garden is filled with native trees. There are a couple of Mexican Buckeye and two Honey Mesquite. How did I not notice these pretty trees? “The needle is advanced from below the transducer into the field of view where access to the vein can be imaged.” He continued. Oh good, the A/C just shut off. I survived. I suppose it does not need to be on long to ensure an average indoor temperature of what I guarantee is set to freezing. Just across the street there is a large interstate highway. It is elevated by large concrete pillars and built-up grassy knolls. I can hear the traffic from here. A lot of people are in a hurry. I am curious to know where they are going. I am assuming most are headed to work. Maybe school. Some could be coming back from vacation. What I would give to be heading towards a warm beach right now. “Duplications: most are segmental; complete duplications are rare. To be duplicated, both saphenous veins must follow the same path and remain parallel within the fascia. Duplication demonstrates a beginning and end along the same path,” said Charlie Brown’s teacher. I think. My nostrils flare, picking up scent coming in from down the hall. The cafeteria is not that far from our door, but being able to smell food from that area is still an uncommon thing. It smells like another student just pulled lunch out of one of the microwaves. What is that? Is that.. Is that fish? Holy crap. It is fish. Who? Why? What have we done to deserve such blatant disrespect? That is a very violent smelling microwaved fishy aroma. My nostrils and olfactory sensory neurons are in a battle for their lives. I think they are losing. My eyes are watering. The fishy smelling air particles are now in my eyes. In a weird way, it makes me hungry. I have a snack-sized bag of Cheez-it calling my name from my lunch carrier. And just thinking about sinking my teeth into the BLT wrap that I have prepared is making my mouth water. I don’t do BLT’s the traditional way. I chop the bacon, the hickory smoked goodness of bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. I throw them into a bowl. I combine mayonnaise, ranch, and sriracha in another bowl. I then mix the two bowls. After spreading on and rolling up tortillas, boom! Delicioso. I need a haircut. One of the girls in the class just got new hair put in. I am still not even sure what that means. But what happened to the poor horse? Is there a hairless horse walking around somewhere? Looks good, though. Even after her pointing it out, I still cannot tell what belongs to a different animal species and what is natural. I just grow my hair out the traditional way. Then cut it. Then I grow my hair out. Repeat. I just need to taper it back. Maybe, a low skin fade is in order. I have gotten away with growing my hair out for far too long. The tips are passed the collar of my shirt. I really should have taken the clothes out of the dryer last night. Now, when I get home, I am going to have to run them for at least 15 minutes to get the wrinkles out. 20 minutes makes them too hot. But it is just whites. Do I need to get the wrinkles out of the whites? It is just work out shirts and socks. Maybe I am good. I hate folding wrinkled shirts, though. I will play it by ear. “...trendelenburg position. Post treatment. Okay, take a break. Be back in 10 minutes.” Damn it! What did I miss?