I still don't understand why people come to the ER in search of a pelvic exam. This, the most personal and private exam a woman can be subjected to, and you want a total stranger to do it? I guess some people just don't care and consider it the price to be paid for a prescription for Percocet for their 10th visit this year for "painful periods", "my ovarian cyst is bothering me", and "painful intercourse".
Seriously?
I have had a run of days working with Gil, who is an older guy. After setting up the 4th patient of the night for a pelvic for a frequent drug seeking squirrel, Gil rolled his eyes. "Doing a pelvic", he said, "is like going on a treasure hunt for really bad treasure".
Yup.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
What Happened to September?
Happy 2012 to all. I don't know where 2011 went.
I guess I have been slacking the last couple of weeks although the holiday season gave me plenty to write about. I have tons of material, stacks and stacks of notes and pithy observations (ha! I am not sure I am capable of such). Some of them are actually humorous and possibly worth reading.
It is equal parts lack of motivation, time, and resources. It doesn't help that my laptop is on its last legs. I have spent the last 4 1/2 years pounding the crap out of it and I have decided not to keep it alive with heroic measures. I will eventually bury it at sea or run it over with my car.
More soon.
I guess I have been slacking the last couple of weeks although the holiday season gave me plenty to write about. I have tons of material, stacks and stacks of notes and pithy observations (ha! I am not sure I am capable of such). Some of them are actually humorous and possibly worth reading.
It is equal parts lack of motivation, time, and resources. It doesn't help that my laptop is on its last legs. I have spent the last 4 1/2 years pounding the crap out of it and I have decided not to keep it alive with heroic measures. I will eventually bury it at sea or run it over with my car.
More soon.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Status Update
Our electronic patient status board lists all patients in the department so we can tell at a glance which ones are waiting to be seen, who is in what room, which doctor or nurse is assigned, what tests are finished or pending. Kind of like Facebook. It is the nurses' responsibility to discharge the patients off the board when they leave the department for good. For added fun, last week the word "dirty" popped up on the status board when the patient was discharged. Just to add 20 more steps to an already cumbersome and non-user friendly system, this necessitated entering "clean" when, obviously, the room was ready for another patient.
We complained, of course, since the nurses at this facility have to do the discharging, cleaning, and removal from the status board. The Information Techies must have been having a slow week taking turns offering Kudos to themselves on the Bitch Board about how awesome and effective their department is because they got right on it.
Now, to enhance the happy, happy, joy, joy, how wonderful for us to use only positive language, our status board no longer pops up the "dirty" notation.
Now it says "Unclean". And we still have 20 oh-so- convenient steps to change it.
Dislike. Bastards.
We complained, of course, since the nurses at this facility have to do the discharging, cleaning, and removal from the status board. The Information Techies must have been having a slow week taking turns offering Kudos to themselves on the Bitch Board about how awesome and effective their department is because they got right on it.
Now, to enhance the happy, happy, joy, joy, how wonderful for us to use only positive language, our status board no longer pops up the "dirty" notation.
Now it says "Unclean". And we still have 20 oh-so- convenient steps to change it.
Dislike. Bastards.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Just Thinking...
We had a discussion of how much is too much for Christmas when it comes to grown-up kids. I put a halt to Christmas stockings this year for both of my kids and Mr. Ednurseasauras. They are fun, but I invariably find the contents of the stocking stashed in a bag in March (or June, or September). I found several years of assorted stocking stuff for K in a box recently which didn't make me happy. At least J always takes his stuff with him.
Sherry has two married step-kids in their mid to late 30's, one of whom has a young child. She also has a daughter with her first husband who was recently married who is in her early 20's. Sherry's plan was to get some kind of bigger ticket household item for the one couple with the kid, and knit a Christmas stockings for the other. Since Sherry had just hosted her wedding, the recently married kid was getting nothing. Sherry thought this seemed equitable. Her rationale was that she was putting a lot of time and effort into the Christmas stocking
"Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wasn't the older kid just saying last week that she didn't feel like a close family because she felt like you and your husband excluded her and favored your daughter? And wasn't this after she had a lovely wedding of her own last year? Jeez, she's nearly 40! Of COURSE she's not going to think a Christmas stocking is equal. Sad but true"
Sherry: "You're probably right. (I have learned that this response is code for not necessarily agreeing with me). When she was growing up the older one's mother didn't allow to have Barbie dolls. When Ella got one, she went ballistic. She was 13 and Ella was 3. She's never forgiven us for it"
Ah, the Barbies. I wasn't allowed to have one either. They were too....grown up. I had a "Tammy" doll, which I never knew until recently was only made for a few years and is considered very collectible. Tammy had more innocent features and a body that looked like way less of a Ho than Barbie's. That also meant that Tammy could never wear the more glamorous Barbie outfits.
I never really quite "got" playing dolls, dressing and undressing them for hours seemed like a pointless activity, and I quickly tired of playing "prom", "date" and "wedding". Me and my Tammy were perennial wedding guests, never even a bridesmaid let alone the bride. I would rather have read a book.
If I had a choice of playing dolls or poking needles into my eyes I would play dolls, but not graciously.
In the 1960's, girls didn't have multiple Barbies. They had one. If they were really lucky, they might have a Ken. The thing I coveted most of all was the little sister Skipper doll because she had long, brushable golden hair. I would have traded Tammy and both of her outfits, as well as the homemade poncho and scarf in a heartbeat to be able to play with Skipper. There was some scandal about someone's brother's cutting off dolls' hair to make hay for the horses when they were playing circus, but it wan't any of mine. I didn't have that many dolls.
My daughter K had lotsa Barbies, which have found a permanent home in an old gym bag in my basement. J, or course, didn't play dolls. But he inherited a big trash bag of Master's of the Universe figures from that Beckett kid who lived on the next street. His whack job father simply decided he didn't want them in the house anymore. Dad probably should have been paying more attention to the fact that Beckett was, at 6, regularly peeing in the bushes in my back yard. They were....odd people. He would have played with Barbies I think, but would have been the one to pull the legs off and bury them in the garden.
Sherry has two married step-kids in their mid to late 30's, one of whom has a young child. She also has a daughter with her first husband who was recently married who is in her early 20's. Sherry's plan was to get some kind of bigger ticket household item for the one couple with the kid, and knit a Christmas stockings for the other. Since Sherry had just hosted her wedding, the recently married kid was getting nothing. Sherry thought this seemed equitable. Her rationale was that she was putting a lot of time and effort into the Christmas stocking
"Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wasn't the older kid just saying last week that she didn't feel like a close family because she felt like you and your husband excluded her and favored your daughter? And wasn't this after she had a lovely wedding of her own last year? Jeez, she's nearly 40! Of COURSE she's not going to think a Christmas stocking is equal. Sad but true"
Sherry: "You're probably right. (I have learned that this response is code for not necessarily agreeing with me). When she was growing up the older one's mother didn't allow to have Barbie dolls. When Ella got one, she went ballistic. She was 13 and Ella was 3. She's never forgiven us for it"
Ah, the Barbies. I wasn't allowed to have one either. They were too....grown up. I had a "Tammy" doll, which I never knew until recently was only made for a few years and is considered very collectible. Tammy had more innocent features and a body that looked like way less of a Ho than Barbie's. That also meant that Tammy could never wear the more glamorous Barbie outfits.
I never really quite "got" playing dolls, dressing and undressing them for hours seemed like a pointless activity, and I quickly tired of playing "prom", "date" and "wedding". Me and my Tammy were perennial wedding guests, never even a bridesmaid let alone the bride. I would rather have read a book.
If I had a choice of playing dolls or poking needles into my eyes I would play dolls, but not graciously.
In the 1960's, girls didn't have multiple Barbies. They had one. If they were really lucky, they might have a Ken. The thing I coveted most of all was the little sister Skipper doll because she had long, brushable golden hair. I would have traded Tammy and both of her outfits, as well as the homemade poncho and scarf in a heartbeat to be able to play with Skipper. There was some scandal about someone's brother's cutting off dolls' hair to make hay for the horses when they were playing circus, but it wan't any of mine. I didn't have that many dolls.
My daughter K had lotsa Barbies, which have found a permanent home in an old gym bag in my basement. J, or course, didn't play dolls. But he inherited a big trash bag of Master's of the Universe figures from that Beckett kid who lived on the next street. His whack job father simply decided he didn't want them in the house anymore. Dad probably should have been paying more attention to the fact that Beckett was, at 6, regularly peeing in the bushes in my back yard. They were....odd people. He would have played with Barbies I think, but would have been the one to pull the legs off and bury them in the garden.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
More Head-Shaking Lady News
Sherry got out her knitting, which is generally an invitation for the masses to come streaming in. Since we were working with Parvati, the simplest dispositions become an all-out attempt to keep the patient there as long as possible by racking up a high number of diagnostic testing points. Some people have just one more visit before they win a toaster.
But Sherry was determined. "I have to make 3 hats, finish a Christmas stocking, and I'm working on a pair of socks. I will never get it all done in time for the holiday", she said.
We discussed the Christmas Madness Project, in detail. She shamefacedly told me she had bought a few items for the Lady on Elm St. Slippers, a pair of sweatpants, a nightgown and a couple of other things.
Excuse me? WTF??
Sherry: "I know, I know. I just feel really bad for her".
Well, so do I. Yes, why not pass the hat. Again. But Sherry had forgotten one very important point.
Me: "Sherry, how are you going to get that stuff to her? She takes offense at everything we do to try and help her"
Sherry: "Jane thinks we should just leave the box on her doorstep with a note, From Your Friendly Neighborhood Health Care Providers. Either that, or send it through the mail. Or my husband can drop it off, she doesn't know him"
Me: "She can't know we sent it, she would consider it a giant 'Up Yours from your good friends, the Peeps at the Health Center'. We should just do it anonymously"
Sherry: "Maybe you're right. We will know if she got the package only because she will probably be wearing the stuff next time she comes in"
Right.
As if to illustrate my point, this gem was heard on the police scanner:
"75 year old female with suicidal thoughts, X Elm St. apt 12. Called in by a neighbor residing at apt 14 who went to check on her". That would be none-other than the Lady on Elm St. She sits and waits. And knows exactly what is going on in the neighborhood, which is why sneaking up on her with a big box of Christmas presents would not work well.
A recent meeting about the Lady on Elm St. revealed that she is more vigilant (and crazy) than we ever thought. It is important to note that the meeting was not for planning how to best address Lady's needs or to provide better care. It was conducted by Idiots in Charge of Stupid Sh*t so that we drooling morons who actually provide the care could "express our feelings".
Isn't that what blogs are for?
Lady reported to have used 911 over 100 times in the last calendar year, including 7 times in one day for nonsensical complaints. She also has Patient Services on speed dial since she had logged 23 complaints in the last 18 months.The Patient Services rep. is the proud recipient of her very own Lady complaint since she had apparently also failed to take Lady's call right away one time. As Lady didn't feel her earth-shatteringly dire complaint wasn't accorded the instantaneous attention she felt it
deserved, she immediately called the CEO's office. Said rep was summoned to explain why Lady's call was being so rudely ignored.
I can just hear the complaint now. "You people did WHAT??! You sent a box of slippers, nightgowns and sweatpants?? How could you be so rude and insensitive!".
But Sherry was determined. "I have to make 3 hats, finish a Christmas stocking, and I'm working on a pair of socks. I will never get it all done in time for the holiday", she said.
We discussed the Christmas Madness Project, in detail. She shamefacedly told me she had bought a few items for the Lady on Elm St. Slippers, a pair of sweatpants, a nightgown and a couple of other things.
Excuse me? WTF??
Sherry: "I know, I know. I just feel really bad for her".
Well, so do I. Yes, why not pass the hat. Again. But Sherry had forgotten one very important point.
Me: "Sherry, how are you going to get that stuff to her? She takes offense at everything we do to try and help her"
Sherry: "Jane thinks we should just leave the box on her doorstep with a note, From Your Friendly Neighborhood Health Care Providers. Either that, or send it through the mail. Or my husband can drop it off, she doesn't know him"
Me: "She can't know we sent it, she would consider it a giant 'Up Yours from your good friends, the Peeps at the Health Center'. We should just do it anonymously"
Sherry: "Maybe you're right. We will know if she got the package only because she will probably be wearing the stuff next time she comes in"
Right.
As if to illustrate my point, this gem was heard on the police scanner:
"75 year old female with suicidal thoughts, X Elm St. apt 12. Called in by a neighbor residing at apt 14 who went to check on her". That would be none-other than the Lady on Elm St. She sits and waits. And knows exactly what is going on in the neighborhood, which is why sneaking up on her with a big box of Christmas presents would not work well.
A recent meeting about the Lady on Elm St. revealed that she is more vigilant (and crazy) than we ever thought. It is important to note that the meeting was not for planning how to best address Lady's needs or to provide better care. It was conducted by Idiots in Charge of Stupid Sh*t so that we drooling morons who actually provide the care could "express our feelings".
Isn't that what blogs are for?
Lady reported to have used 911 over 100 times in the last calendar year, including 7 times in one day for nonsensical complaints. She also has Patient Services on speed dial since she had logged 23 complaints in the last 18 months.The Patient Services rep. is the proud recipient of her very own Lady complaint since she had apparently also failed to take Lady's call right away one time. As Lady didn't feel her earth-shatteringly dire complaint wasn't accorded the instantaneous attention she felt it
deserved, she immediately called the CEO's office. Said rep was summoned to explain why Lady's call was being so rudely ignored.
I can just hear the complaint now. "You people did WHAT??! You sent a box of slippers, nightgowns and sweatpants?? How could you be so rude and insensitive!".
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