UNWANTED HOUSE GUEST

The night was January 15th, 2007. The time was 3:45am. One of my roommates, Jayna, was on the night shift at the hospital, and my other roommate, Alicia, and I lay peacefully sleeping in our cozy beds. Alicia was awoken out of a deep sleep as a result of hearing strange noises coming from our living room and her bathroom. She phoned Jayna and asked if she had gotten home early, but Jayna replied that she was still at work. Alicia then called my cell phone from her cell phone to ask if I was up and doing something in the living room. When I told her "no", it was then that I heard something I don't ever want to hear again. Whispering, Alicia said, "I think someone is in our house, Debra. I have been hearing noises outside my door, and Jayna is still at work." I got out of bed, quietly locked my bedroom door, and headed for my bathroom, where I locked myself in there as well. I confirmed that Alicia had already locked her door, and I decided to phone my dad. Alicia was so certain of her assumptions that she said she was going to call 911.

As I leaned up against my bathroom counter, I could feel my heart beat throughout my entire body. My stomach was churning, my hands were shaking, and my voice was trembling. Suddenly, the urge to pee came upon me, but 1) I did not want to make any noise and 2) I had this image of a burglar barging in on me as I was taking care of business. The window above my toilet was also something I did not want to step foot in front of. So I'm told that people can't see through them, but what does that mean to me?? You know I'm paranoid about that kind of stuff! So as I leaned against the counter waiting for answers, I realized I had not even checked behind my shower curtain (despite the fact that it's somewhat see-through). Once that was clear, I stood there staring down the closet door in my bathroom. "Should I open it to ensure no one is hiding or do I not due to the fear of making a noise someone may hear?" After what had seemed like 20 minutes later (although really only a minute or two), I called Dad so he could talk to me and attempt to calm me down. My dad is amazing at most everything, but I gotta be honest.. I didn't have much faith in him this time!

As my dad pulled into my neighborhood, he turned off his lights and noticed two cars parked in the street with their tail lights on. I had told him that mine and Alicia's cars would (or rather SHOULD) have been the only two in our driveway. Upon closer inspection, he noted that the two cars were indeed police vehicles. My two thoughts were this: Either those cops had gotten here extremely fast after respondong to Alicia's 911 call or there is something else going on and the person they are after is in MY house!!

I felt as if my entire body was one big heart beat about to explode. Just as I'm getting informed on what is happening around me, an unknown number shows up on my phone. Again, I have two thoughts: The dispatcher from 911 is attempting to talk to me or the suspect inside my house somehow found out my cell phone number and wants to know where I am!! On the other end was a lady with the police department - I can't remember her name, which is odd for me. (I think God could have called me at this very moment and I would have said, "who is this again?")

I was informed that the police were walking around the outside my house and ensuring that the scene was safe. She asked me if I was hearing any noises and I said, "Mam, to be honest with you, I'm trying not to listen for anything right now. If I hear something, I'm going to freak out and I just may jump out the window!" She asked if I could see the cops and it is then that I explained to her that I was locked inside my bathroom which was locked inside my bedroom. I told her that the windows in my bedroom faced the street and that if I looked outside, the cops would be able to see me. She instructed me to do so, and when I peaked through my blinds, I saw a cop standing in my neighbors driveway and my dad's vehicle in the street. I wanted nothing more than to bust through those windows and run to Dad.

I had confidence in the cops that they knew what they were doing, but I nonchalantly stated to the dispatcher, "That cop is in the wrong driveway. I am in the house to the right of him." Approximately one minute later (although it felt like 10), I saw Alicia walk out onto our driveway. It caught me by surprise, and I gasped in shock. The dispatcher asked if I was okay and I told her what had happened. She said that she knew Alicia would be walking out because it was now safe to do so. Well when was anyone going to tell me this?! My heart was fatigued from pumping so hard and my limbs were tired from shaking.

As I started to unlock my door and walk out into the living room, I started to second guess. "Was it actually safe to do so? Sure, the cops said there was no evidence of a forced entry, but had they indeed checked the right house? Did they circle my house or David's, my neighbor's?!" As I joined the rest of the crew outside, Alicia and I went over near my dad for hugs and a sense of safety. The cops searched the entire house and claimed that it was clear. As I walked up the driveway, my car had beeped as if someone had locked or unlocked it. Alicia tugged on the handle, noticed it was locked, and we peaked inside to make sure no one was in it. I told the cops this, as they stood in our foyer, and they a really strange facial expression came across them. ("This doesn't look good," I thought.) "Well.. where are your keys?", they asked. "They are supposed to be in my bedroom." So we checked, and there they were sitting on my floor. Apparently as the cop was checking under my bed, looking for monsters or the boogey man, his boot or something hit the button that signaled the beep.

Alicia was boggled by all of the noises and swore she never would have made the call or initiated this had she not heard something. Alicia and I stood there, puzzled about what had just happened, and nervous because we knew they'd be leaving soon despite the fact we still didn't know what the noise was. The police understood and we thanked them for responding so quickly.

As my dad, Alicia, and I all double checked everything, we knew we would not be returning to our peaceful sleep in our cozy beds that night. My dad had left, and Alicia and I stayed standing there, discussing what had happened. We called Jayna to tell her we were safe, but that we still weren't too sure what had happened or what the noises were. Just as about the conversation was going to end, I noticed something move in our office. I nearly fell off the couch as I witnessed this unrecognizeable movement. It appeared to be a sock or big dust ball that made its way from the closet door to a part of the room that was not viewable from where I was. As I replayed this site in my head, I realized what it may have been.

The noises and the scares and the chaos all originated because the Albino African black clawed, underwater frog Jayna and Alicia purchased years ago had escaped from it's aquarium!!! It has escaped before at our old apartment and was quite loud when making its rounds. Its wetness and sliminess caused hair or dust or other particles to stick to it, thus creating what I had seen move in the office. Jayna, Alicia, and I were laughing hysterically (with some few choice words coming out of the mouths of Alicia and I) as we realized what had happened. When this frog gets around the house, it makes a sound similar to one you would make if you slightly slap or tap your thigh with your hand. So as the frog took a field trip into the bathroom near Alicia and made its way around the house, it sounded like footsteps and other strange, unknown noises.

If there's one take home lesson from this entire experience, it's this: IF IT HOPS, DON'T CALL THE COPS.

IDENTITY CRISIS

During my first day at Heartland Rehabilitation, one of the physical therapists asked me where I was from. I smiled as I told her "Jacksonville" because I knew where this was heading. I have had, on multiple occasions, people who I first meet ask me if I am Spanish, Italian, and ironically enough, one lady at a bank asked if I was from Kentucky. The question was then asked, "Well, where are your parents from?" and the response was, "Tampa, Florida and Roanoke, Virginia." (i hope that is right) Obviously, that was not helpful in determining my "accent". The physical therapist was actually part puerto rican and you'd think that she would be able to recognize her own kind. Apparently, it is the way I pronunciate words, say my "R's", and the speed in which I speak.

The very next day, I was finishing my observation hours at a pediatric clinic and towards the end of the day, I got that same question again. The conversation mentioned above was repeated and no conclusion was made.

Can you guess what is coming next? I returned to Heartland Rehab on Thursday and had shared with the physical therapist what had happened the day before. We joked about it and she said she is still trying to figure it out. Two hours later, I was working with a patient and he proceeded to ask me the inconclusive question: "Where is your accent from?" The therapist overheard the patient ask me this and thus they began trying to figure out my identity. The patient guessed I was from somewhere in Europe and the therapist still thought I had a Spanish accent.

To this day, I still claim to be 100% American, 100% caucasion, and 100% skilled at unknowlingly deceiving people.

BITE ME, YOU CRUEL AND UNREASONABLE GATORS!

So as you can imagine, the application process for graduate schools is nothing but a headache. Typical deadlines are January 15th if you want to start in the fall of that year, and the University of Florida is no exception. With my luck, Monday, January 15th happens to fall on MLK Jr. Day, meaning that mail is not en route that day. As I went to the UPS store yesterday to send out my documentations to UF and USA, I was informed they cannot overnight, but rather have priority mail. So I filled everything out and decided to send it priority (meaning it would arrive in two days), certified (meaning someone had to sign for it), and return receipt requested (that's self explanatory). As I got in my car to drive to my clinical site, I realized that two days from yesterday would be Saturday and that no one would be there to sign for it. The stress level increased to the point of a headache and chest pain - something I've never experienced before. I called my mom and she calmed me down, and her and I were both convinced that they would see it was postmarked by January 11th and respect the fact that I sent it certified to ensure proper delivery. For clarification, I sent someone in the Admissions Office an email explaining my situation. Her response was this: "No one will be here Saturday to accept it. If it arrives on Tuesday, we will accept it, but it will be lower in priority and receive a later review than the on-time applications." Oh how upset and irritated I was at this response! Prior to this, I was leaning towards attending USA over UF. I think now I'm about to topple over in the direction favoring USA. My only hope now is that UF will place my name at the very bottom of the pile, read my application, send me a letter of acceptance in hopes of obtaining a respectable and hard-working student, only to hear a big, fat DENIAL from me!

FIRST WEEK JITTERS

I'm sure we're all familiar with the movie Billy Madison and Adam Sandler's famous quote, "Back to school.. back to school.. to prove to Dad I'm not a fool". That exact thought popped into my head at the beginning of this week. Mine had a similar sequence, but with a bit of a twist: "Back to class.. back to class.. to prove to Grad School that I can pass!" It's often dreadful returning to a schedule that I had just gotten used to being without. During the holiday, if I felt like leaving my house at 7:30am and coming home at 11:00pm, it was because I chose to; not because I was at class and clinical the whole time. However, I did have to convince myself that the sooner I began, the sooner it would end. In comparison to every other semester, this one (my last) has the least number of hours. You would think that makes it easier, right? WRONG! The classes are more involved and require much more thought. One class incorporates information we have learned from August 15, 2005. (How dare they!) Repetition never hurt anyone, but when your grade depends on it, it tends to sting a bit. This main purpose of this class is to prepare us to take the NATABOC (National Athletic Trainers' Association Board of Certification) Exam. You think saying the name is hard? Try taking it!

As much complaining as I have just done, I will say that it is not as bad as it could be. Take my zoology class for example. FYI: the University of St. Augustine requires 6 credit hours in biology and strangely enough, zoology counts as a biology. I understand it's a branch of bio. but I do not see any overlap between this and physical therapy - unless my patients are lions and tigers and bears - OH MY! So this zoology.. complete waste of time. On March 16, I get to take a field trip (around FCCJ's campus) and collect bugs. Yes, you heard it.. *c*o*l*l*e*c*t* *b*u*g*s*. Oh how my anticipation rises... Perhaps the labs would be cool, right? Nope.. I'm dissecting flat worms, round worms, and earth worms.. maybe my professor should consider no worms.. now that would be great! I know I have a bit of a "medical" mind, or "sick" as some people may say, but I like the idea of working on another cadaver, as I did a year ago.. at least that is applicable to my love for the human body and how it works.

In addition to the academic side of my semester, I have one more clinical rotation. I am working with an athletic trainer/physical therapist at a Hearland Rehabilitation clinic, and so far, so good. The guy is amazing, and I am already learning a lot. I've spent two days there, and I feel comfortable with how things are run. I am taking patients through their rehab program and am loving every minute of it! Can you imagine how much more I'll love it when I'm actually getting paid to do it?

A MIX OF '06

What a year this has been.. if I can even call it such! If I have ever experienced the speed of light, I believe it was this past year. Perhaps it's just me, but it seems that the older I get, the quicker time flies by. It's funny how that happens. As a young child, one can hardly wait to be an adult. As an adult, one can only hope to stay young and avoid the responsibility that tags along with being older..

2006 was full of many "firsts" for me. On February 12th, I began dating my "first" boyfriend. Robbie became my first true love and the first guy I ever imagined marrying. I always have had a weird way of looking at things, and this next comment is evident of that. With all of the guys I casually dated, I tried to picture them in my wedding pictures. It wasn't until Robbie came along that I knew I would be 100% pleased with who would be standing by my side, him in his tux and me in my white dress. I have cried over guys before, but I have never cried at the sound of hearing a guy tell me, "I love you." Robbie was my first. For your sake, I won't continue any further with this topic, but I do want to end it by saying this: 2006 was not the year for it, but I look forward to the day that he will become my first (and only) "partner". ;)

As this year came to a close, my busy schedule did not. Christmas break consisted of observation hours for grad school and studying for my GRE, with a break here and there. The stress levels were high, and my emotions were even higher. I tried to remind myself daily that God will not give me more than I can handle. So.. December 29th was the day I took my GRE and I know God was hearing an ear full that day. I know it's said that sometimes God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers, but that was most certainly NOT the case in this situation. God knew that as well. Upon completion of the exam, they reported my scores in two categories: Verbal and Quantitative. I received a 380 in Verbal and a 610 in Quantitative. I was so nervous that I was unable to add those two simple numbers in my head, despite the ridiculous questions that they had just tested me on! I proceeded to write them down and add them up like I was taught in 2nd grade. 380 + 610 = 990!! Are you serious? I had really just scored that high on something I thought I had failed? ..Thirty minutes later.. Are you serious? I had really just scored 10 points under what grad schools want to see? Lucky for me, my GPA is high so I'm hoping that will be enough to outweigh the trivial 10 points!

I look forward to all that this upcoming year has in store for me.. so c'mon heaven.. bring your best in '07!

(Cheesy, I know.. but what else did you expect from me?)

ROUND ONE

I am introducing myself into the world of blogging, and I invite you to join me in this adventure. I live quite a busy and chaotic life at the moment and feel guilty and saddened that I do not get to talk or see y'all as much as I'd like to. As indicated by its name, this blog is not only going to be the key to my own sanity, but a way in which to keep y'all updated on what is going on in my life. I hope to share my experiences and funny stories and even plan on releasing any frustrations that may result from class and/or clinical.. so bare with me during those days. ;) I want to create something that I can look back at years from now and reminisce about what occurred in my life. I want to remind myself of the times I spend with Robbie, my relationships with friends and family, and the experiences of school and clinical. If this blog gets boring, either tell me to get a life and do something besides school work or just stop reading it. This is strictly voluntary. ;) Happy reading!