Sunday Funnies (not)

I am beyond pissed.
I have been shut out of, and apparently withdrawn from, my online course Holistic Professional Nursing (which, stupidly, is recycled public health nursing; same book, same instructor). Without warning. For an alleged financial deficit.

This is my last course. I have been taking courses for almost 4 years and have always paid IN CASH. There is no extra work on the part of the university to scrape money from the government or others who are reluctant to pay their bills; I have not been forced to sell my kidney (yet). I have managed to keep it going. I don't even do FAFSA forms. My financial interview went something like this:

Accountant: How do you intend to pay? Will you be taking out loans, applying for scholarships, reimbursement from an employer, state grant, selling a child or any of your internal organs?

Me: Cash

Accountant: Oh, I see. Do you need a payment plan? We could work out a monthly draw from your checking account or a credit card...

Me: I'll make it simple. You tell me how much I owe per class. Then I'll pay it. Does that work?

I have been paid up in full with a zero balance for two weeks. Since my final course was a bit of an ambush, the course was only partially paid; but it was a weekend, and my payment posted a few days later. That was two weeks ago.

My instructor says I am withdrawn from the roster; she had no notification, but said she would work with me once I straightened it out. Of course, there is NOBODY working weekends anywhere in the college. I can't even get a human being on the phone except for tech support, and they are useless. Even for tech issues. No, they don't know the name of the administrator on call.

I spoke to my advisor on Friday before this happened and she sent the forms for graduation. In June. In Savannah. As I understand it, I must have a zero balance on account before that information can even be sent out to the graduate. Two days later, I am still looking forlornly at my account with a ZERO BALANCE while I mourn my 4.0 course GPA grow anxious about the work I can't do since my instructor ignored the part of my email about forwarding the grading rubric. I just don't want to restart this course at the end of the month because some illiterate hamster pushed the wrong button then went home for the weekend, la la la.

As a sacred cash cow, I certainly expected better treatment.
Someone's gonna get an earful tomorrow.

But today, I am doing something much more fun; the taxes! Yes, just go ahead and kick me while I'm down. Annually, I would rather have hot sharp steel needles poked in both my eyes than do the taxes. I get extraordinarily pissy; Mr. Ednurseasauras generally starts sending out feelers in January to get me used to the idea gradually:
"So....with your schedule, I'm thinking that January nearly gone, and your skating trip and studies, February is not a good month for taxes?" (walking on eggshells)
Me: "Let me get a couple of weeks of this course going, then we can look at them".

Now, the requests become more specific:
"So....you're off this weekend?"
Me: "Yup. I am taking a salsa dance class with Southern Cathy on Saturday then going to the mall to buy granny underwear"
Mr. Ednurseasauras: "Um, okay, yeah (misses the granny underwear reference). How do you feel about looking at the taxes on Sunday?" (ducks behind the couch with the dog in case I decide to throw my coffee cup)
Me: "Well. Ok, but it will end badly, you know it does. We have to do something fun later to make up for it".
Mr. Ednurseasauras: "OK, sure. Whatever you want"
Me: "I really want to go bowling" (I don't, really. I'm just messing with him)
Mr. Ednurseasauras: "I will get stuff organized then". This requires that reams and reams of paper come out and are stacked in organized piles around the living room. Out comes the file box; Mr. Edn mutters, makes notes, gets up to look for something, comes back with another document, makes a phone call. This goes on for a while. In the meantime, Meet the Press (a show which just really sets my teeth on edge) is on, and Mr. Edn occasionally looks up to follow what's going on. Me? I am surfing the web on my laptop, on Facebook and blogging. There is no schoolwork to do, so I'm doing the academic equivalent of nothing.

Me: (after about an hour) "How are we doing over there?"
Mr. Ednurseasauras: (muttering and shuffling) "Alright"
Me: Sigh. "Should I take the dog out?"
Mr. Ednurseasauras: "I need about another 10 minutes of mutter, mutter, grumble, then I should be done"

Then the fun should begin.

Me: "What's all the ruckus about? Aren't you just organizing stuff?"
Mr. Ednurseasauras: "It's the bank interest, it's not totaled. And if you don't have that marked down on the tax form, the bank interest, it gets shot down. all that for a total of.....(consults calculator), $2.25. Between the two banks"
Me: "Couldn't we just make it up?"
Mr. EDn: "I don't think so".
************************************************************************************
2 1/2 hours later and the taxes are, mercifully, done. Nobody has died, except maybe Tina out of pure boredom, or even sustained injury from flying coffee cups. Eerily civilized I must say. Even his Massachusetts state taxes which are enormously painful and usually requires an accounting degree to figure out; no wonder Mass. is in such dire straits and the economy sucks so bad. I read Mr. Edn my rantings from earlier and he is mildly amused.
Mr. Edn: "How often do you write stuff about me? What are you typing, everything I say?"
Me: "Hold on....(typing)...'everything I say?'....what?, no, I'm just writing random stuff about how you kicked the file box across the room"
Mr. Edn: "What? I did not! You really do make this stuff up!"
Me: "Just enough to protect the innocent".
Mr. Ednurseasauras ever so lightly kicked the file box.
Me: "OK, well I guess I'll just do something really fun now, like the laundry so the day isn't entirely wasted".

Not today...but someday

New Cathy and I heard the call go out on the scanner for a 48 year old female; CPR in progress. We waited for the radio transmission from the field, fully expecting that the code would be brought our way.

It came: 3 rounds of drugs, intubated, EJ blown but a working IO.

"We'll be a little bit yet; we are still working on extrication"

What!!??? Extrication!!??? No, it couldn't be. Cathy and I stared at each other in mute horror.

I grabbed the phone and punched in dispatch.

"What's the address of that code??"

Not Elm St.

He said....What??

Southern Cathy: I can't believe you didn't filet that guy for saying that. I have never seen you so calm when someone is rude to you; are you on new happy pills or something?
Me: Hmm, what? I was taking his blood pressure, I didn't hear a thing. OK, what was it he said then?
Southern Cathy: (turning pale) I, umm... well, what I mean to say is.....well....he said....
Me: Spit it out!
Southern Cathy: He said...."IN ANOTHER MINUTE I'LL BE MAKING LOVE WITH THIS NICE NURSE"! Sorry! I though you heard it, jeesh, if I'd known you hadn't I never would have mentioned it!
Me: Cath, he's 80 fucking years old; at most he would get an over-the-top-of-the-glasses stare. Get a grip.

Nursing...the Next Generation

For some reason, there are more than a few nursing students who feel the need to read this blog. That's OK, as long as y'all are taking my mad ranting with a grain of salt. Remember that I have been a nurse for a long time. A VERY long time. During that time I have run the gamut from wide-eyed optimist, to rebel without a clue, to union organizer, to leader, to simply throwing my hands up in surrender. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker. I've done....well, not quite everything but near enough. Near enough.

Although I love to teach and am usually on my best behavior when I am toting a student around like a pull toy, I usually have to make a conscious effort not to make snarky comments. Also to conduct myself professionally and to set a good example. It is stressful. I can usually go about 2 to 3 hours before I go off on something or other. Just can't help it.

Tonight I had a student for 6 painful wonderful hours. I was a paragon of virtue for the first 2; shocker.

A satellite ER is not the greatest place to have a first year student. For one thing, we have limited resources on a number of levels; we don't do things exactly by the book, and it is an entirely different environment. Plus, when things rapidly go to hell in a hand basket, it is necessary for students to just get the hell out of the way and for me to try to explain later. Sometimes we just can't use the training wheels, and students are forbidden to ride the bike without them.

Since we can't even let students take vital signs (only second year students can do that, yikes) I hauled my student to triage and back, in and out of rooms for IV starts, and had her hand me stuff. No big deal. I think it was more important to give her a sense of how the assessment process works, but you know kids; not happy unless they have a toy to play with. I had a high school intern who was bored out of her mind last fall, and mainly did her English homework if it was quiet. On her evaluation, you know what she listed as the best part of the entire 100 hours? "Ednurseasauras showed me how to use a syringe and needle to draw up water (saline, actually), and how to get rid of the bubbles". She played with it for about 2 hours.

Really? The best thing you did in weeks?

Tonight I had a good bit of time to explain stuff which makes for a reasonably good experience. I showed her all of our toys "Oooh! Shiny!". I let her listen to lung sounds. I showed her how to take out sutures. She had some initiative and was out of the chair when patients came in to accompany New Cathy and I to triage. I only went off on one of the 3 frequent narcotic seekers who was pissed that she got Tramadol, and even more pissed when Bobo gave her a 'script for Motrin when she complained. But I digress. Mostly I was a good little nurse.

Now that you have finished falling off your chair, you may resume your normal activities.

Oh, when I asked the student what were the best/worst parts of her experience at night's end, she thought that making the beds was the worst part.

Hmmmm....

Last Course!

I did it.

Passed my last CLEP, and expected to start my final course toward my BSN at the end of March, beginning of April.

Lo and behold, a call to my academic advisor yielded a lovely surprise; instead of starting a new 11 week course at the beginning of the term, a change in policy allows the start of 11 week courses ALSO at the mid-point. I was immediately enrolled in Holistic Professional Nursing (a day late, but who cares!).

I WILL BE DONE ON MAY 5!!!!!

WOOT!!!!!!

Unless I decide on grad school.....