Kansas State University - Royal Purple Yearbook (Manhattan, KS)

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7IE 24 - - spring lever

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Myriad miseries fade in Lafene melting pot by Terri Phillips Roberts When I get sick, there ' s something deep inside. beyond the aches and pains of a fever or cold, that makes me want to let everyone within a mile radius know I feel absolutely rotten. According to me, nobody could, or ever will, feel as sick as I do. A sympathy ringer? You bet. But I ' m not ashamed of wanting to be sympathized with—especially after I went to all the trouble and expense of getting ill. Wanting to be pampered and fussed over stems from the time we cried to have our mothers burp us when our baby tummies couldn ' t hold another bite of baby food or another breath of baby air. As we grew older, cures for our various complaints became a little more complicated. A band-aid on a skinned knee didn ' t necessarily make the hurt go away. There also comes a time when plenty of rest, pints of fluid and all the attention in the world from sym- pathetic roommates can ' t break the spell. Then it ' s time to visit Lafene Student Health Center. If you go into Lafene looking for more of the kind, warm and thought- ful reception you got in the comfort of your own home, you may be in for a bit of cultural shock. From the time you check in at the information desk until the nurse on the loudspeaker connects your name with the doctor ' s room, there is the Waiting Room. You are no longer among healthy folks who express sorrow that you can ' t run as fast, Jump as high or stop on a dime. Your misery is thrown into the melting pot along with everybody else ' s. I have never known a doctor ' s waiting room to be a place of lively conversation. People who don ' t feel quite like themselves don ' t talk much. Lafene ' s lobby is no exception. The silence Is broken only by a lone cough from behind a magazine. Immediately that cough is chal- lenged by another, from an opposite corner, that ' s louder and sicker than its predecessor. Soon there are scattered coughs around the room, each sounding progressively worse. Until there emerges a pitiful, wheez- ing cough that rattles and shakes the room into silence again. A bit later, someone touches cer- tain spots on her throat, making sure the soreness is still there. She is followed by another who holds his head in both hands as if it will fall off. Another blows his nose with difficul- ty; the girl in the second chair from the door is having trouble breathing; still another painfully clears her throat and is challenged by a cough from behind a magazine. And so it goes on . . . and on. Misery loves company. Common knowledge says nobody In good health hangs around a health center. As for common misery, that ' s another story. The times I enjoy adequate health make me wonder at the facet of human nature that demands this type of personal attention. I don ' t know whether I can give more sym- pathy to those in need of medical assistance or those who come to Student Death to hold the hand of a friend, to get an annual check up or simply get a prescription refilled. If they didn ' t feel too terribly sick when they came In, they are probably worse for wear by the time they emerge. lafeno - • 23

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Quest for bronze yields scarlet by Melinda Melhus Mingled with students ' talk of Thanksgiving turkey, pumpkin pie and Christmas gifts are ex- clamations, in ski lingo, of course, over new parkas, boots, moguls, powder, Copper and Vail. But by the time those same students have settled into the routine of the following spring semester, the oohs and ahs have switched to bikinis and cut-out tank suits. Talk Is of Padre Island, Florida and anywhere else the sun shines. Sunlamps move from closet shelves to handy locations like desks and dresser tops: scales slide out from under beds, are dusted, and placed where they ' ll be tripped over—often. Magazine pictures of slender bodies sprawled on sandy beaches pop up on bathroom mirrors and refrigerator doors. No matter that the radio blares of the wind-chill index and near bliz- zard conditions. A disease has struck campus that is more con- tagious than the flu, mononucleosis or the common cold—spring fever. Those who migrate south for spring break are easily spotted on campus after vacation. Their tan faces stick out like a new breed of people, living proof of all that the travel brochures promised. Envied by their pale counterparts who had to work over break or just couldn ' t afford to go, they sport clear, tan complexions. Members of the opposite sex begin to wonder about the rest of the anatomy, still jeaned and jacketed. Grating complaints of the long drive or extreme temperatures are uttered by the south-for-break set. We had eight people in the car for 24 whole hours and It was so hot, they whine through smug toothpaste commercial smiles. Cut-off Jeans and overalls appear on campus even before the first 50- degree weather. The rugged in- dividuals who don them may receive surprised or disdainful glances from bundled students, but the Goosebump Gang gradually gathers strength and number. On the first sunny day, classes are cut and cars start heading for Tuttle. Stores displaying suntan gels, greases, foams, sprays and lotions haven ' t witnessed such deluge since Christmas rush. As the temperature increases to balmy heights, class attendence declines proportionally. Schedules are gradually planned around prime hours to bask in the sun. Before breakfast, towels cover lawns, balconies and patios to reserve spots for the day. In a few hours, bodies begin moving in full force to set up camp. Lotions, bottles, ice, sunglasses, pillows, timepieces and text books are wield- ed against the rays. A radio or stereo speakers in a nearby window help combat the impending monotony. Chameleon-like, the student body. sometimes golden, sometimes scarlet, blisters, burns, and is suddenly noticed by other class- cutting refugees from a lengthy winter. But the day of reckoning comes when the bronzed beauties go home for the summer. No pity is forthcom- ing for bad grades. The folks know the fluorescent lights of Farrell Library never put out those kind of rays. spring lover - - 25