Is This the Same Thing?

Hello, anybody there?

**crickets**

Lots of stuff going on, none of it of any real significance but enough to keep me from composing any new fascinating posts.  I have lots of stories.  Oh, so many stories.

Part of my posting absence has been physical.  On Easter Sunday I sliced off the tip of my right index finger with the Mandolin blade.  Yes, I know, stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.  The Mandolin has been sitting on the top shelf of the cabinet for over 2 months.  I was scared of it before; now I am outright terrified.

My wound healed just fine, the fingernail grew back in, but typing.....now that's a little bit of a problem.  I type so much at work that it just isn't fun when I try to get my own thoughts down.  It still hurts, but less every week.  In the grand scheme of things, it is pretty insignificant but it is annoying that only 5 mm of tender flesh can have such an impact.  Ah well.

I leave you with this:

After suturing a finger laceration, Parvati told the young guy to have sutures removed in about 10 days. Clueless friend:  "Or I could just cut them off, haha!"
Parvati:  "Or he could come here, and we could do it"
Clueless friend: "His mom could do it, she's a doctor"
Parvati: "Really?"
Clueless friend: "Well, she's a vet tech.  Same thing"

Wow.

So, using this logic

Being a nurse is the same as being a waitress
Being a pharmacist is the same as being a bar tender
A respiratory therapist is the same as an HVAC technician
A lab tech is the same as a chemist.  Although in Wednesday's case being a lab tech is the same as being Alice in Wonderland.

Lady Games

The Lady on Elm St. is still alive.  I won't say she is well.  But as cockroaches will survive a nuclear holocaust, so Lady will survive all maladies real and imagined until....well...her ticket gets punched.

Lady's nonsense urgent attention-seeking issues have logged hundreds of annual calls to 911.   Dispatch has been heard to simply say "head on over to Elm St for complaint", which means Lady's apartment, for things she sees out the window like moths, meteor sightings, or a well-being check request on a neighbor who has simply gone out for lunch.  One would think Lady has a pretty full schedule with all that silliness yet she manages untold amounts of time bitching out patient services and carping about EMS to whoever will listen.  Of course her numerous outpatient visits for various maladies are certainly time consuming, and I failed to mention that she is on 25 DIFFERENT MEDICATIONS which surely takes up a good portion of her day.

But no, she still has lots of free time to call the ER pretty much daily, usually on the evening shift.

It is a pattern of ramping up the calls, either for escalation of some chronic complaint or for a new boo-boo that the average person would handle easily.  It culminates with 911 drama and the inevitable ride to the ER in the Big White Taxi with the Flashy Lights

It is our policy not to give out the names and schedules of the doctors.  It's pretty obvious when individuals are "shopping" for a doc who gives out narcotics or are looking to avoid the doc who piss tests first.  This is not the case with Lady.  She has her favorites, and those she can't stand, usually because they have had the temerity to bring up the subject of her weight, the elephant in the room; no pun intended.

When she doesn't call, or we don't identify any police response to "Elm Street, apartment X" on the scanner for a deer sighting or some such,  then we know we are probably in for an evening visit.  High drama.  No reason to be there. And we are always busy.

She is not fond of me.  I have honestly tried with her, but when your best effort gets rewarded with some bullshit complaint, well, sorry.  You get the bare minimum from me especially if I have an Actual Sick Patient to deal with.  I don't want to chat or talk about your day.  Or mine.  Partner in Crime talks to her a lot and nearly always tells her to call her doctor in the morning.  Still, Lady likes Partner in Crime.

I drew the short straw when Lady was brought in by EMS.  She rolled by on the super-duper heavy weight cart like she was the Queen of the May on her parade float, waving and smiling, surrounded by her contingent of EMS personnel as reluctant honor guards.   She was making the usual sarcastic remarks meant to be funny (they weren't) and behaving as if we were all bosom friends.

"Where is Partner in Crime?", Lady bellowed as she was wheeled in, proving that she wasn't in fact having any of the life-threatening shortness of breath which precipitated her 911 call.  "I want Partner in Crime for my nurse, she understands me".

"Sorry, she's busy with an Actual Sick Patient and you don't get to pick your nurse.  Here is a nebulizer treatment since you are speaking in full sentences, have normal skin color, have a normal oxygen saturation and your lungs are clear.  Dr. Parvati will be along shortly"

Parvati might be abrupt, lack communication skills, be blind to the fact that she is a generally a piss-poor team player but she is never unkind on purpose.  However much we might want to kill her I have to give her that.

Parvati dealt with Lady's BS complaint empathetically with the therapeutic equivalent of patting her on the shoulder and telling her she was just perfect in every way.   Which is not what Lady wants to hear generally because it would mean she would have to take up a new hobby to fill her days.  But I guess she appreciated Parvati's delivery because she was eventually happily kicked to the curb like she is 99.99% of the time.

As usual it took Lady about 15 minutes to vacate the room, and then there was the requisite lurking at the desk to engage Partner in Crime and grill her about some activity that occurred 12 visits ago.   Partner in Crime was too busy to play though, so Lady turned her attention to Parvati on her excruciatingly slow egress from the department.

She paused dramatically before heading out,  planted herself in the middle of the hallway, raised her arms like the Mayor of Munchkinland (and equally proportioned) and her dramatic announcement, "This is the best doctor of all time".  The speech was punctuated by bestowing upon  Parvati a big smelly hug before she left waddled to the waiting room.

I wish I could feel bad for Parvati but I just...don't.

Sounds Like....

Anxious Twitchy woman who said her heart was beating fast:

"I have had the symptoms before but they never found anything even though I wore a halter top"

HOLTER MONITORS are devices used to record heart rhythms.

HALTER TOPS are garments that should never be worn by anyone over a certain age or bra size.

Same Anxious Twitchy woman:

"I have had an over-ectomy"

OOPHERECTOMY is the removal of an ovary.

"...and a colonic"

Perhaps a COLONOSCOPY.

Yikes.

Valid Question

Phone advice requested from a night shift worker:  "I am confused about Dayquil and Nyquil.  If I work nights, which one should I take in the morning?"

Even a Blind Squirrel Will Find an Acorn Now and Then.

I occasionally speak of squirrels, of which I have two; they are small plastic creatures that sit on my desk and mock me.

When one of our regulars comes in for the usual tedious complaints requiring a narcotic script for the 20th time in the last two months, the squirrels dance. They recognize kindred spirits.  My personal mantra regarding squirrels: 

If you feed them, they will come 

My co-workers have, sadly, adopted my irreverent view of drug seeking complaints. Sometimes they will return from triaging and pick up one of the squirrels, or simply make chittering noises.  Sometimes I will be asked if I have such a thing as an acorn about.  Silly stuff.

it is not the first time that squirrels have been a running joke in my life.  "You should have bought a squirrel" has long been a favorite tag line among my skating ladies thanks to a long bus trip and the movie "Rat Race".  Google it, it's pretty funny. A few years later, Suzu the Squirrel, a pretty life-like but decidedly creepy hand puppet became a mascot for another group of skating ladies.  And, I have 1/2 pair of cute squirrel earrings given to me years ago as a Psecret Psycho gift.

More recently I was given a fun pair of socks from a co-worker:

Last year I devised the "Golden Squirrel Award":

Shocking that this one did not get stolen off the big fake tree in the lobby

Around Christmastime this past year, someone brought in a miniature Charlie Brown Christmas tree for our desk.  I loved it so much I immediately purchased one for my son and left it on the door of his apartment since it is the size of a phone booth and he would otherwise not have one.  As for the one on the desk I decreed that it should remain year round as a haven for my squirrels.  New Cathy, self-appointed Decorating Ninja, has dressed it up for Valentine's Day:

Ellen added the bird with the acorn cap because she actually thought it was a squirrel.

Ellen is usually stuck out front, but sees the squirrels, squirrel signs and things like this:

I blanked out my name and was too lazy to type in "EDnurseasauras"

and thinks that I have a passion for and/or collect squirrels.  Inevitably it is assumed that I am the Expert on All Things Squirrel, when in fact I am merely the one who pushes the snowball off the cliff.  A few weeks ago she sent me this text when she started hearing noises in her chimney:

Ellen did, in fact have a a squirrel removed by the critter control.  It didn't have a whole lot of fight left in it

Ellen pointed out that, coincidentally, January 21 is National Squirrel Appreciation Day.

My final squirrel note got my dog, Tina, into the act.  As a terrier, she is all about sniffing out squirrels and chipmunks. She is relentless, but it's winter and there just aren't any critters around just now. Imagine my surprise that on one of the coldest nights of the year, she brought home a dead frozen squirrel.  I made a nice "thunk" when she dropped it on the deck outside the back door.  Mr. EDnurseasauras apparently didn't chuck it far enough away because she retrieved the same cold, dead squirrel the following night.

"Good girl!"