I went out to one of the hospitals to spend some time with one of our adjuncts, who had some difficulty last semester. He was supervising a student giving a medication, and it was the wrong medication or something, and he completely missed that the student was making a pretty blatant error. So we talked about the role of an instructor, and how you have to pay attention.
It's not difficult to completely zone out when watching students do stuff. One minute you are watching them program a pump, and before you know it you're looking at Drew Carey asking someone to guess the retail price of that toaster. I had to learn to really focus my attention on the student, without making them feel like my entire attention was on them, thus reducing them to a quivering mass. So we talked about that, and I showed him how he can organize his day so that he is always on top of what the students are doing.
We walked around the hospital to visit the units where his students are. I hadn't been in that hospital for about 15 years, when I did my chaplaincy training there. It's way on the other side of the metro area, where I rarely go anymore, though it was the first area I lived in when I moved up here from the Bay Area, way back in 1984.
My first wife, Arlina, is buried up that way, because it was closer to where her parents live. Whenever I am up that way, I like to stop and spend a few minutes there. I wouldn't say the cemetery is ugly, but it is not a place I would hang out. Not enough trees. Catholic cemeteries are alway trying to prepare you for purgatory here on earth, I guess.
I cut some roses from the bushes she planted years ago. I am thinking these are among the last of the roses for the year, but who knows? A few more 80+ degree days and they'll still think it's summer. Arlina is buried just a few steps from Maureen Reagan, the former president's oldest daughter. I always walk over and say hi, just because.
I came home and stopped in for some fish and chips, because I haven't had them for a while, and was thinking about them. The old Korean guy who used to run the place retired, and now his kids run it. There was a guy sitting on top of one of the tables playing guitar. He was pretty good, and it was nice to listen to music while I waited for my food.
I'm not sure if he was hired by the restaurant, or just happened to be there. He didn't have a tip jar or anything. I stopped on my way out to thank him for the music and he graced me with a radiant smile. It's little things like this that make my day.