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SO much pee. and blood. and swabbing and then more pee. 

DUDE sorry not sorry but MAs are the unsung heroes of healthcare (besides nurses but y’all are amazing and there are many articles about you already I checked). 

Medical assistant is such a broad term. Like whenever someone asks me what I do I literally say “everything.” 

When you think medical assistant..what do you think about? Usually its the weird scrubs we wear or that one bad blood draw experience you had.

Medical= relating to the science of medicine, or to the treatment of illness and injuries.

Assistant = a person who ranks below a senior person.

SO WTF does this mean? Pretty much that anything goes.

Need the pee cleaned off the floor from the patient who didn’t screw the cap on the urine sample cup tight enough? Tell your MA.

Need to call 911 for a screaming crackhead who’s thumb was so swollen from a needle that it turned black?  Tell your MA.

Need to pop that cyst on your patient’s buttcrack? Tell your MA.

Need to wake up a patient who fainted from a missed blood draw? Tell the MA who f*cked up to get the other MA.

Need to run the insurance ASAP for STD labs so the patient will actually pay instead of cuss you out? TELL YOUR MA. 

THE. LIST. GOES. ON.

The best thing about this job (in my opinion), is the variety. Sure, someone comes in for a covid swab but ends up at the ER because their face is drooping or they lose vision in one eye or some shit. YOU JUST NEVER KNOW. I also love the patients who think they know their stuff. Because yes, having gash over your eye that reveals the WHITE OF YOUR SKULL is no reason to go to the ER (this person walked out due to cost and went to Mexico the next day with some gauze & medical tape).

Teaching someone how to poop in a cup, not take out their own stitches, or explain that you don’t set the prices for procedures like wart removals (got REEMED by a patient for this once), is a skill set that simply comes with TIME and, I hate the word, but ~~e x p e r i e n c e~~.

Theres no such thing as simple in the MA world but here is such thing as BORING AF. We also have complicated AF where one patients’ ailment becomes our soul mission to treat, depending on the day.

I have to mention the voice. The MA voice. We ALLLLL have one. “Cary? Hi Cary welcome in! How are you feeling today? No worries, we’ll getcha some help and get you on home!!” 

Followed by: Height, weight, allergies to non-medicine things, allergies to medicine things, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, medication list (I’ve seen 4 pages NOT double spaced front and back—this was an elderly person), favorite color, have you had your pap this year, are you suffering from SARSCOV2, your childhood pet, what you ate for breakfast, is your cough wet or dry etc.  ALL of which is usually on a sticky note novel ready to be input into the 400 year old computer system after you’ve compiled 10 of these notes just in time for lunch!

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS: MAs keep the train moving. The calling, reassuring, sending in medications, taking out the trash (and pee cups), talking, button pushing, fixing and caring that we need to provide in order to keep the peace is admirable. We often aren’t credited or talked about. Especially during covid. 

MAs in clinics were there throughout the shut downs. Some clinics never closed. Where did people go when they were way too constipated for at home treatments? What about an allergic reaction? or for a cut on their foot? Or other realms of medicine with other types of MAs. ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat), Fertility, Womens Health etc… My work is in Urgent Care and we were getting positive covid tests alongside everyone else cuts and bruises. 

MY POINT: S/o all my MAs. We work hard, and sometimes hate it. But often feel proud of our small wins! (when we’re not starving or sweating bullets).

My uninspired ass felt inspired by how uninspired I felt today! IFKYK.

Anyways. I wrote this on my Instagram today and then shared it on Facebook.

“One size does not fit all when it comes to being in our 20s.

I’m 25. This is the weirdest age I’ve ever been. People are always telling me the same thing about being 25. That is has to be the best time of my life. My 20s.

I found this article that articulates the most relatable facts about being in my 20s.

“We are growing into ourselves across a whole lifetime, not just throughout one decade. Let’s all retire the idea of our 20s as a #bestlife—and just strive for a good one.”

COVID happened. Life is happening FAST. This idea that our 20s has to be “a golden age of rootless freedom and fearless exploration and, somewhat contradictorily, the time when you’re meant to figure out your career, your relationships, and your life goals…” creates immense pressure and has felt unrealistic.

Being 25 is f****ing hard and weird and exhausting. There are beautiful moments & cherished moments.

But there are also days I wish we could forget or days where confusion and sadness creep in with the insecurity of what the world will be like as time goes on.

For anyone who needs to hear this, your whole life is a journey. The now is simply the now and life is indeed what you make it… but your 20s DO NOT have to be the most amazing part of your life. We are loving, learning, working, creating, and struggling. We’re looking forward and doing the best we can, your best is all you can do sometimes and that can look different day to day.”

I drew inspo from an amazing article from a freelance writer. Check it out here!

SO. You’re here! Amazing. This is my version of risk. I’m 25. I’m blogging. I started this in a coffee shop during what I consider my “quarter life crisis.” Let me back up. I graduated undergrad in 2019 with plans to pursue PA school (physician assiatant school), which is kinda like Med school except your mental health has a fighting chance. Then I went into the work force as a medical assistant. BOOM. COVID destroyed the world. 2022 is here and now IDK what the f*ck is going on. Hence: quarter life crisis mode is full speed ahead.

I am in a long term relationship. I’m on my third round of Invisalign/braces. I have a coffee addiction (no really, I get headaches). What smells like it died? Oh yeah, my finances. BUT, given the weird shit and exhausting day to day of being a confused “in-between-er” (between kid and adult I think?), there is GOOD.

I have a dog. A cute ass dog. My friends are dope, all 2.5 of them (JOKING, I love u all). My parents like pot and my sister is an artist (I’ll plug her info later). I LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH in Portland OR! The “weirdest” place on Earth (not our greatest achievement but whatever makes us stand out I guess). Anyways, there is happiness in the lull of this strange decade.

HOWEVER HERES MY ISSUE: Everyone keeps telling me that my 20s are supposed to be this amazing time to explore and have all this freedom and Im so young so I should be happy and carefree!! BUT ALSO find a secure career path, a proper home, lasting love (and babies, range rovers, green smoothies and planter boxes I built myself) and I guess eat right?? It’s a lot. This ideal assumes that everyones circumstances and situations are all the same like a “one-size-fits all,” but thats just not true. I did (or kind of do??) have a plan. The plan was to finish all my pre-reqs and then go off to PA school, graduate, find a job and then idk marriage or something some day.

I read this amazing article that argues that the pandemic has made people realize that the idea of “dream job” is dead– and we’re better off prioritizing our own lives over our nine-to-fives. This feels more true than ever. PA school has been a dream for the last few years but now that I’m in a position to actually shoot my shot, I’m questioning whether or not the huge undertaking (mentally, financially and physically) is actually what I want (let alone need) right now.

Bottom line: being 25 simply isn’t all glam. Im not traveling around the world, I don’t have tons of money and I am struggling with my career, relationships, habits. I just think young people (and people in general) forget that we have our entire lives to grow and change and be who we desire to be. It doesn’t have to come to fruition before we hit 30, unlike society says. Sh*t, I don’t really know what to do with my life so I started a blog? LOL.