Sunday, December 30, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Maybe it's because of all these idiot celebrities naming their kids pretentiously (did it start with Dweezil Zappa?), but I have had a rash of stupidly spelled names of late. Stupid because these kids are going to spend the rest of their lives spelling their names.
Here are a few samples of stupidity:
Jewelly pronounced "Julie"
Pshawn, the "P" is silent (no pshit)
Mykele pronounced Michael
Linsy (did you mean "LINDSAY?")
Here is a selection of some plain Stupid Names:
Crystal Snow (the Ice Queen?)
King (except for my uncle, and the middle names of several of my male relatives--it IS a family name)
Badger (hahahaha! "BADGERS? We don't need no stinkin' badgers!")
Audra and Jared (if you are over 40, remember "The Big Valley" TV show?)
Maverick ("did your mother not like you?")
Tyler Harley Davidson (a girl, yikes)
Summer, Winter, Spring and Autumn (not from the same family)
Names Guaranteed to Get Your Kid Beat Up:
Boral (combination of Bob and Coral?)
Quita (could never finish anything?)
Juicey (no lie)
Storey (Ah, the Story Girl. Welcome!)
...and to go with the above, Anne of Green Gables Johnson
Shiclet (accent on the last syllable; "Chiclet?")
Here's a doozy or two from when I used to babysit a million years ago:
Tamsen Olivia Freelove Jones. Yikes!
Teena Bean (just sounds weird)
Peter Lapin (Lapin means rabbit in French)
Bambi. Yup. Went to high school with her.
You need a license to drive a car, but anyone can have a kid; and they can name said kid anyting they want to
Friday, December 28, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
With Loving Family gone, we get Grandma undressed, cleaned up, made comfortable, hydrated, and diagnostics accomplished. She really is a cute little thing, and becomes something of a favorite in the 8 hours she is with us. Loving Family makes a brief cameo appearance to "check in", leaving their number and disappearing for good.
I really wonder how some people can live with themselves. It sucks to get old
In addition to not working on the holiday, I am also on break from school until the middle of January, so I had a nice relaxing few days. Returning to work today was a pleasure, right up until Last Call when a member of the Better Living Through Chemistry Club came in with a migraine and demanded the only drugs that work for her: Toradol, Demerol and Phenergan. I work at a couple of ER's in the area so I poked my head in the room just to say hi. Her reaction can best be summed up by a parody of a credit card commercial:
Cost of ER visit to the patient: $Zero
Cost of ER visit to you and I because she has Medicaid: $400.00
Meeting the nurse who took care of your worthless ass last week in another ER: PRICELESS.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The best was the Hover Mom: you know, standing in the doorway, asking for something every 5 minutes so you know she's concerned about her 9 year old who fell in the driveway and has a head bump. No LOC, but their PCP assured her that "a head injury would be a top priority and seen immediately" (um, your pediatrician is an idiot who lied to you, and he WAS seen immediately and appropriately triaged. I'm pretty sure he's not herniating). What posesses these PCP's to say make such blatently stupid statements and get everybody all riled up?
Anyway, after casting, splinting, slinging, stiching and icing all the boo-boos, it got very un-busy. I hesitate to use the Q word, because you never know when it will come back to bite you. And I have to work tomorrow, so I'll play it safe.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
I'm pretty sure the rest of the world has progressed to the point where this kind of behavior is not tolerated. I throw him under the bus whenever I can, though, so that's fun. When the patient's complain, I give them the name of my boss, the name and phone number of the administrator and encourage them to complain. Guess I will have to come up with something else though, because he's still there.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
One guy (no scooter) weighing in at over 300 pounds presented with increased urination and insatiable thirst for about a week. To nobody's surprise his blood glucose was 620. I was kind of worried about this guy because all he could think about was going home to eat the cheesecake his wife had made. Sheesh! Guy, you are a walking heart attack and a stroke waiting to happen.
Supersized contestant number two was a woman weighing in at over 400 pounds who comes in by ambulance (EMS, you are my heroes) with an ankle injury one day after sustaining a fall in which she broke her proximal humerus. Truly, I don't know how this individual functions. She was clearly hygienically challenged. Her ankle was merely sprained, but a family member wanted her admitted. WTF! Don't you love how the family members are all over the patient in the ER, but when it comes down to taking care of the patient at home they trip over each other heading for the hills. I had PT do a safety evaluation and she failed because 1) the patient lives in a 2nd floor apartment, 2) the family had REMOVED THE BANNISTERS AND THROWN THEM AWAY TO GET FURNITURE UP THE STAIRS, which means, 3) she couldn't safely or QUICKLY leave the apartment in case of an emergency (!). Are you kidding? That woman had no prayer of leaving that apartment quickly for the last 10 years with 4 good limbs and wings. Yikes. The bottom line is that the patient gets admitted so someone else can take care of her. But the family drove her, I'm sure out of the goodness of their hearts.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Not understanding or caring that the ER is not Burger King where one may very well not have it their way, the triage process is of little importance to the patient who insists that his problem is worse than anyone else’s. The consequences of the “squeaky wheel” mentality on a waiting room full of frustrated, anxious, sick, and angry patients can best be described by envisioning the abandon ship scene in the movie, “Titanic”.
As the boats are filled with women and children (think of these as the really sick people), the men (people who are not as sick, have chronic conditions, and are well enough to sit in the waiting room for hours) are left on deck hoping for rescue and singing “Nearer my God to Thee” while the stewards put out more deck chairs. Much as these patients believe it, however, the ER waiting room will not sink; this means it is pointless to storm the triage nurse to explain how badly one needs to be seen as soon as possible (consider this clamoring for a spot on the stern of the ship). Eventually, there will be a boat for everyone, even it is takes 6 hours. If a patient is likely to require a kidney transplant by then,he/she will be seen sooner. Otherwise, the waiting area is a little like Disney World: just when you think you are getting in, there is another 2 hour wait before you actually get on the ride. Alas, there is no "baby swap", and sending your 7 year old to inquire for the fifth time in 20 minutes how much longer it will be just wont' fly. And it doesn't matter if you have another appointment, dinner reservations, a meeting with your parole officer (pimp, ex-boyfriend, drug dealer, your child's teacher, life coach). Remember, patience is a virtue.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Well, my day after Thanksgiving was something to be thankful for. I had nice, normal, appreciative patients. I really felt like I did something good today, even if it was nothing more than being able to REALLY do some patient teaching, make someone actually feel better, help my colleagues and take a bathroom break before ascites set in. Whoo hoo!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Don't get me started on the drug seekers. Tonight we had an impressive attendance of the "Better Living Through Chemistry" Club. Everyone got a shot of Toradol. I admonished the doc that we only had a limited supply even though IT IS A MIRACLE CURE. The woman who came in cradling her shoulder with 10/10 pain had no trouble lifting it to give an obscene gesture on the way out. And that guy with the hip pain who limped in had such a spring in his step as he slammed out that door (probably on the way to the other hospitalin town. Guess they didn't get the memo that Dr. Nonarcs was on duty.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
In the ICU, Jane, his nurse, seemed to understand my husband's "what the hell just happened here", deer-in-the-headlights look and promptly got him some Ativan. She patiently answered all of my husband's questions and got him settled in. She signed out to Leslie at change of shift, who handled my husband beautifully with the right mix of humor, authority and caring. My husband had some leaking around clip in the artery, so in comes the Resident Twins. This is an equal opportunity teaching hospital, so they neither speak English nor posess people skills. Oh, and they travel in pairs for added fun. I refused to leave until I made Leslie promise that she would turn my husband over to someone more than competent at change of shift, and keep Frick and Frack away from the patient.
I picked husband up at noon the following day and all was well. He is home now, testing me at every turn, angry that he can't have his surgery and not yet grasping that the ticking time bomb in his chest has been defused. A little perspective is useful.