One part of working in a Nuclear Plant, is that at any given time, you have a 60% chance of being in training of some sort. Of the remaining 40% that you are not in training, about half of that is time that you are supposed to be in training and you have forgotten about it. The 20% that is left over you can use to fill out documents to explain why you missed the training you should have been in.
It keeps us all very knowledgeable, but does somewhat hamper one’s ability to get actual work done.
This week has been a heavy training week (so to speak). Most of it is CBT (that is a TLA for Computer Based Training for all you non-nukers), (TLA is a TLA for Three Letter Acronym). It should be fairly painless and go quickly, but I spend a good portion of the time arguing with the proctor of the testing over why I think I was right about questions that I got wrong, and why, as I am a black man in American, the testing is biased against me. It makes the time spent exciting for everyone, waiting to see when she will snap and tell me to GFM (that is a TLA for Go……).
Part of my training today was to get a physical exam to determine if I am physically fit enough to wear a respirator. Some work that we will be doing during the upcoming outage may involve types of radiation that require us to were a SCUBA suit. This makes me very excited. To quote Jeremy “If I get exposed to high levels of radiation, I want them to give me cyanide pills, not iodine pills. He was standing a little close to the microwave last night, so I slipped a little in his ice tea. (He missed training today, and will have to spend the rest of the week filling out paperwork).
So I went into the nurses office for my physical. She comes in a few minutes later, tells me that removing all of my clothing was not necessary, and tells me to sit down so she can take my blood pressure. I had been thinking about having M-Kent throw the old arm band on me if we got the chance, as in the past few months, when I drink with a hangover, my body feels like a overfilled balloon (insert fat joke). I was kinda worried that my blood pressure was to the point that if I slit my wrist, I could shoot blood across the room and incapacitate bad guys like spider man.
She put the band on my and pumped it up. When the pressure reached its greatest, 100% concentrated Franks Red Hot began seeping from my arm like a wet sponge that got squeezed. Just kidding, turns out that my blood pressure is fantastically low. She told me that and i replied with wide eyes “Really??? Wow”.
Nurse – “You seem Surprised”
Me – “You don’t know me that well”
Nurse – “I just saw you naked and laying on my desk”
Me – “Touché”
Following that she told me to take my shoes off so she could get my accurate height and weight. I immediately grabbed the questionnaire I had filled out and crossed out 6’3-175lbs.
Turns out that I am 4’-8”. This took me by surprise, I thought that I was much taller. Just goes to show that you never have a very objective opinion of yourself.
Then the meat and tater’s of the exam was to test my lung capacity. After multiple failed tests, she finally convinced me to stop sucking on the tube, and to blow into in.
Nurse – Ok, blow into this tube.
Me – Now do I put my lips up to it like a trumpet? Or wrap my lips around it like aaaa…….
Nurse (With a confused GFY look) – Not like a trumpet.
Fair enough…
Turns out I can blow a lot.
Bring on the REM!
