Short People Problems

I've been short most of my life. I only say "most of my life" because through elementary and middle school, I generally kept up in terms of size with the rest of my classmates. I even had a brief spurt in 5th and 6th grade where I was one of the tallest kids in my class. By my sophomore year of high school, I had just about stopped growing. Needless to say, I've had plenty of time to digest the fact that I am indeed short.

I'm not complaining by any means. I'm comfortable with my height. I long ago accepted that I'm not going to wake up and magically be 6 foot, or even a few centimeters taller. I'm fully aware that I will not be an all-star basketball center or the starting quarterback to a football team. I realize that my stature is not intimidating to even 6 year olds who are about half as tall as I am. I won't be picking fights with strangers at bars knowing that my size alone is reason enough to not fight back. This is as good as it gets. I suppose the real point I'm trying to get at is that I don't understand "short man syndrome" or "The Napoleon Complex." I can see where a man might get insecure about not being taken seriously or feeling less manly. I get it, but I don't subscribe to it. I don't get feeling the need to compensate for it as if it were some sort of handicap. It's not like being blind where you have to compensate by having great hearing, or the loss of a limb(s) where you compensate by being physically more capable elsewhere..........For survival purposes. For the purposes of self-sufficiency. There is nothing to compensate for by being short. Worst case scenario, I can't reach something high up on a shelf or some high hanging fruit. Who cares? Get a chair. Climb the tree. Use some tools. Compensate by being smart and resourceful. Not arrogant and douchey. Instead of claiming how easy it is for you to get the can of beans on the shelf without the assistance of a stool or jumping, why not just own it? You can't change it. Being resourceful and efficient is far superior to being insecure about it. Why overcompensate with grand stories about how strong you are? Or delude yourself into thinking you're just as tall as the next? I simply don't understand the insecurity. You can be assertive being short. But you can't be an arrogant douche making claims you can't back up. And even if you can back them up, who cares?

No one.

No one cares that you're short.

If you're next point is to bring up studies that show that taller men tend to get hired more, are more trusted, have an easier time getting dates, and appear more threatening, just don't. It's a tired point. It's not an excuse to hyperactively compensate. Compete with the size of your character. Compete with the size of your work ethic and the size of your heart. In the end, that's all that matters. If people see that you are good hard-working person, then the rest will fall into place. That's not to say there aren't people out there who won't judge you by such superficial matters. But they matter little in the long run. What matters more is what you do with the time you have and not with the height that you don't.

Getting Older and Older

The other day, it was once again brightly highlighted how old I'm getting. I was taking care of a 19 year old patient who was afraid to get an IV. I confidently assured her that I had done this for almost 8 years and that there was a low chance of me missing.

8 years..........

First off, let's forget the disappointment I feel for still being at the same entry level job for so long and just jump right into how long 8 years is in comparison to my patient. When I started 8 years ago, my patient was 11, not even in middle school. 8 years ago I was barely 20 years old and living with my friends. I had been graduated from high school for 2 years by that point. To add insult to it all, I realized the patient was born in 1995.

What was I doing in 1995? Oh yes, I remember. I was watching the original Power Rangers, learning addition, and failing at cursive writing. While the patient was drinking out of a formula bottle, I was playing Super Nintendo and excelling at dodgeball. While the patient was choking on their own spit, I had a wide vocabulary of 3-4 syllable words and a fine grasp of one syllable swear words.

Holy shit I'm old. Whenever I meet someone in their early 20's or even late teens, I'm still in the mindset that I'm really not too much older than they are. But in reality, I'm much closer to my 30's now than I am my early 20's or late teens. My youthful looks are slowly starting to degrade into my actual age. More and more, patients and strangers are able to accurately gauge my age.

Another hint of my growing age has been confronting loud music. In the privacy of my own home or car, I love loud music. Not ear-ringing loud music. But loud enough to enjoy it. In fact, one of my favorite things ever is to roll down all my windows on the freeway and blast my music. On the city streets, I have it loud but feel obligated to turn it down at stoplights or slow traffic. Not everyone needs or wants to listen to what I'm listening to. With strangers, I struggle with understanding people who have spent several hundred dollars to get a super sound system with a huge sub-woofer and stereo boxes. I get it to some degree. I'm guilty of wanting a better sound system in my car, but only for the benefit of me being able to hear my music better, not everyone else. Do people really have to blast it so loud that the bass rattles the bolts of their own car while making my teeth involuntarily chatter? What's the gain here? In high school, it was kind of cool. But after that, it's actually really annoying. 99% of these people who do this are men. Do they hope the loud noise actually attracts women? That might sort of work in high school or perhaps an older woman who hasn't let high school go yet, but I can't see the general female population getting into that. Or maybe I'm about as clueless as to what women want now more than ever. I've tried to reason with it in my head. Maybe it's an old evolutionary biology sort of thing. Maybe in the ancient days, loud noises were what attracted mates in a our primate years. I can see somewhere down the line that banging sticks or rocks together the loudest just might have scored you some sweet reproductive action. (Keep in mind I have done zero research on this and am just making this up.) Or maybe women nowadays might be fooled into thinking that if you can afford thousands of dollars worth of sound equipment for your car that you might also be able to afford thousands of dollars worth of material crap that they want as well. I'm no ladies man. I never have been. But never once have I ever heard any girl or woman utter that loud sound systems are cool or hot. Never once have I heard any girl or woman proclaim that a loud sound system is the quickest way into her pants and heart. I most certainly have never heard any of them say in public or privately that loud sound systems in cars is a worthy investment.

I still have a hard time accepting that I'm approaching grandpa status. With my deep-rooted introvert behaviors already making me a bit of an old soul already, I can't imagine how much older I'll feel in just 2 more years. It's bad enough I have sports injuries to nurse, where I've never had a problem with injuries before. My knees ache and creek. My back pops. Loud noises irritate me to the highest degree. Too much conversation in a big room is still enough to have me longing for time isolated in a giant forest.

I'm old.

There I said it.

Are you happy now, World? I'm old.