Eating Crow

Today is the first official Friday of PT school.  I say this with a deep sigh of relief.  A whole day with no class, and plenty of time to attack the large hill (because mountain is over-dramatizing it) of work sitting before me.  I feel much better than I did Wednesday.  I feel like I can do this.  And I believe I can.

Yesterday, our first attempt at group study sort of... stood up.  I can't really say it took flight.  There were three of us.  And we lasted about fifteen minutes.  But it was a start.  We're working on plans for the future, too, using study rooms at the library on Sundays after lunch.

Lab was amusing.  When the class finds someone who has a positive test or sign, everyone in the room flocks to that person so that they can see or feel what a positive test is supposed to feel like.  I had a positive Vertical Compression test, and I had a line of probably fifteen people out behind me waiting to take their turn making my back buckle off to the left.  One girl in my class has epically winging scapulae.  Everyone wanted to watch them wing or feel them wing.  It was pretty amusing, actually.

What wasn't amusing, however, was eating crow later in the afternoon.  One of my classmates and I made the poor decision to mess with a classmate's bluetooth mouse while he was out of the room.  I directed her movements to open another screen from another table.  I felt instantly sick when I realized what a violation of trust we had just committed.  I would absolutely hate it if someone had messed with my computer while I was out of the room.  As a group, we need to be able to trust each other, and if I am pulling crap like that, who can trust me?  Of course, I apologized, after spending the entire class period for PT708 feeling sick to my stomach over the guilt.  When I did talk to him, he said, "It's okay.  But thank you for apologizing."  I could tell he hadn't been happy about it.  But, being a mature professional, unlike what I had just been, he was willing to let it go.  My response to him was that the program was trying to build professionals, and I was behaving like a squirrel.  He laughed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and said, "You do realize you're going to turn out fine, right?"  It somehow made me feel a lot better.  He is only a few years older than I am, but a great deal more experienced in life.  I think I trust his assessment.